As a science enthusiast, I have always been a fan of bacteria and I am convinced that they deserve a better reputation.

While most people associate them with disease and infection, soy sauce and chocolate come to mind, made from bacterial fermentation.
Plus, as frightening as we are, the bacteria are inside us, approximately two kilos in the intestines alone.
And their presence, according to recent studies, correlates with our physical and mental health.
In spite of this, with modern digiene products we do not worry about exterminating another no less important bacterial ecosystem, the one on our skin.
For a few years now Mother Dirt, a US company specializing in the study of the microbiome, has been doing everything possible to change this: our mission to reformulate the concept of cleaning, which for us means cultivating the right kind of bacteria on the skin, rather than washing them all. indiscriminately, President Jasmina Aganovic told VICE in the past.
Their flagship product, AO + Mist, is a probiotic spray based on ammonium-oxidizing bacteria, a type of microbes that can feed on dirt and sweat on the skin.
They once populated it naturally, until modern cleaners wiped them out, Aganovic continues.
Legend has it that Mother Dirt's founding chemical engineer David Whitlock had this insight by observing horses rolling in mud to sprinkle with these bacteria.
Wash less and spray yourself with good microbes, in other words, how Mother Dirt envisions cleanliness.
Fascinated by the idea of trying their system, I contacted them, and after ten days I received a test package from them.
The author with Mother Dirt products.
Inside I find the probiotic spray, to keep in the fridge and apply twice a day.
All the other items are essentially digiene products designed not to exterminate the bacterial flora, but they are not essential.
The information material explains that using AO + Mist it will be possible to lengthen the interval between one shower and the next (the second legend concerning Whitlock who thanks to his invention avoided showers for more than ten years).
This is why I decide to push the experiment to its most extreme consequences for ten days.
The only exception, out of pure common sense, will continue to wash your hands and genital area.
DAY ONE: THE LAST RINSE
The first day will be transitional: I give myself one last quick wash with water and put on some deodorant.
I'm ready to be colonized by my new friends: I vaporize with AO + Mist, but beyond curiosity the encounter with bacteria obviously has nothing magical: as if someone sprayed you in the face with a nebulizer.
It might be a pure placebo effect, but I feel good all day; in the evening I also give up what would have been an inevitable stop, a rinse under the armpits before going out.
Before going to bed, I take another pass.
DAY TWO: GOODBYE SHOWER, GOODBYE DEODORANT
The real challenge begins, from today no shower or deodorant.
I feel that the skin loses the last traces of artificial odors and aromas.
I use the spray and shoot it smoothly all day.
as if the problem of the body stinks, if it smells, how much stink no longer exists.
Maybe the good bacteria have already cracked my bacterial flora.
DAY THREE: THE YOGA TEST
It continues to go smoothly and at the end of the day I dedicate myself to a rather intense session of yoga.
I sweat, but the smell they give off is not offensive.
Perhaps this is the true fragrance of the human being and I am discovering it for the first time.
The author during the yoga session.
Usually I would have jumped in the shower right away, but today my personal hygiene can be taken care of right on the mat.
Two sprinkles and opl, I'm going straight to make dinner.
DAYS FOUR - FIVE - SIX: "CAN YOU CHECK IF I STINK?"
that time has come: I start to smell slightly.
From the fifth day it takes at least twenty minutes from using the spray to feel the benefits, but then everything comes back under control.
In the meantime, however, since I'm afraid of not being objective, I regularly start asking my girlfriend and friends to lend me their noses.
Do I stink ?, I ask before starting each conversation.
all within the limits of socially acceptable, they say, but I still switch to three vaporizations a day.
On the sixth day, the really problematic aspect is the head: it stinks and bothers.
I vaporize it frequently, but I still feel a constant itch.
I also do further research on the ideal frequency of a shower or shampoo.
Robert H. Shmerling, a professor of medicine at Harvard, concludes an article published in Harvard Health Publishing: There is no ideal frequency, but a couple of times a week should be sufficient for most people.
I don't see any negative effects of doing it more frequently, but I don't see any particular health benefits of doing it every day.
According to some, hot water and shampoo or shower gel should still be avoided.
At certain times of the day they give off a very intense sweetish odor, different from that typical of sweat.
But with the use of AO + Mist I bring everything back to decent levels.
I spend the day scratching my hair, meanwhile the useful life of a T-shirt before ending up in the dirty laundry basket is drastically shortened.
DAYS EIGHT - NINE: THE NIRVANA OF THE SKIN
On the morning of the eighth day I notice that on the sheet, near the head, there is a slight halo.
I put an end to the suffering, but in the end to find relief with the hair it is enough to rinse it under the tap with water.
The smell is more musky and aromatic, although not penetrating, and if I'm wearing a T-shirt no one can tell it.
But by now I'm starting to get paranoid and I make it a habit to smell myself regularly when I am among people or take the means.
On the penultimate day of the experiment, I surprisingly reach the nirvana of the epidermis: the body no longer gives off any particularly strong odor.
Perhaps, like a professional blue helmet corps, my microbial friends have finally restored peace and harmony to a war zone.
DAY TEN: END OF THE EXPERIMENT
I arrive on the tenth day with the skin in a totally zen state.
There were rough days, but I never smelled of onions and no tram passengers got up and walked away.
Of course, even now I don't smell like vanilla, but I don't feel the need to jump in the shower at all.
I could even continue indefinitely until I finish my bottle of AO + Mist.
The idea of skipping a few showers, or just washing myself with water and giving up soap more often, seems more and more sensible to me.
Finally there are also the answers of two experts to whom I had turned for an opinion on bacterial cleaning.
To my surprise, they are divergent.
Dermatologist and university professor Marcello Monti tells me that behind products like AO + Mist there is no valid scientific evidence, and using them could negatively impact the skin microbiota in the long run.
Fabio Piccini, doctor and director of the Italian Microbiome project, takes a totally opposite opinion: I know AO + Mist and I am convinced that a different, more strategic, decidedly reasonable approach to personal hygiene.
The problem is that people no longer know the true smell of their bodies, and on this the world of cosmetics has built its business.
Piccini concludes that repopulating the skin with good bacteria will remain a niche solution for a while, a sort of Toyota Prius for personal hygiene.
I'm a little sick, and I think I'll have to go wash again.
Then I remember that a 100 ml pack of AO + Mist costs about 55 euros to buy it.
So how can you blame him?
Follow Alessandro on his blog.

From Vice