TL/DR: it’s a no-go for me, but it may work for you if you can get past the smell of the product
In my early 20s I worked at a wine and spirits market that sold a wide variety of goods from local farmers and producers throughout Kentucky. In addition to selling wines from all over the world, we had the largest selection of small batch bourbons around. My job was customer service when we had customers and often I defaulted to kitchen witch and inventory manager when duty called. That included assembling sandwiches, salmon plates, and cheese trays.
I’m what’s called a turophile - a cheese lover from way back. It’s my life force. Truth be told, however, I’ve only ever encountered one cheese I didn’t like, and I’ve sampled the likes of Limburger without flinching. The darkest crystalline blues from Denmark and all degrees of funk in between. The one cheese I couldn’t stomach was from a monastery outside Bardstown.
Every time a customer ordered it I cringed. My sense of smell isn’t as keen as some, but it is so hard-wired to my memory that some smells will cause actual flashbacks, near out-of-body experiences where, in a matter of seconds, I’m mentally transported back to a distinct moment in time, an environment or singular event, and it evokes a physical response similar to PTSD.
One of my all-time favorite customers was a doctor and leader in the local health sector. He has since passed away, but I’ll always regard him as a bit of a surrogate grandfather. Most of the time he’d come in with his wife, a gorgeous septuagenarian with a thick French accent. They loved oaky Chardonnay and almost always got at least one large cheese plate. Four servings with crackers, artisan breads, and fruit. Nearly without exception, he and his wife would request a double order of this specific cheese.
This particular cheese came from the Abbey of Gethsemani in Trappist, Kentucky, a monastery for Roman Catholic monks who produce a handful of value-added products to this day, though they no longer sell the cheese.
To me, it tasted like curdled baby formula smells. Enough of my friends are moms that I’ve encountered that smell before. It was a new, young cheese, and if I close my eyes right now I can still smell it on the doctor’s breath as he ordered another glass of Chardonnay.
I’ve never really been big into brands or trends. As a former marketing professional, I am intimately familiar with tactics and practices to influence consumer behavior. Because of that, it’s not often I find myself swayed by advertisem*nts, especially commercials. But recently, after a couple years of hearing about it, I decided to try a product that promised odor control for all body parts. It’s summertime and my mom mentioned it in conversation a while back, so I decided to try it and share the results with her before both of us made the investment.
Context: I placed an order for Lumē and got three products - their stick deodorant (lime scent), their topical cream (unscented), and their body wipes (cool cotton scent).
The items arrived in a timely manner, about two weeks from the time I placed the order, so that was a positive start. The price made me a bit anxious, only because I’m accustomed to buying deodorant and body care products from the drug store or grocery store. Nothing fancy.
I was so excited to smell them! The first item I opened were the wipes. While the scent promised cool cotton, I found it smelled more like the cucumber melon days of the early 2000s. Not at all unpleasant, cool and clean, just not what I imagined. I love them and may purchase them in the future, but I’m equally happy to stay the course with my usual body wipes.
When I opened the deodorant, it smelled overly sour, more than I would expect from a lime scent. But the sour soon gave way to a more familiar smell, a sour milk smell that immediately took my mind back to the wine bar and that damn Trappist cheese. I put the lid back on and chalked it up to my mind playing tricks on me. It didn’t really smell like that, I told myself, and I vowed to smell it again another day. I did NOT use it on my body except to sample the smell on the back of my wrist, just like you might do with a perfume in the store.
Onto the cream - this was the product I was most anticipating. Given I’m a plus size woman with anxiety, and it’s the middle of summer, sweat is an ongoing thing. My stress and activity levels, naturally, have an impact. I’ve “pitted out” many a shirt, dress, and jacket over the years because of it, but the creases of my inner thighs are particularly productive this time of year. Of course my body has its own natural biological smells, body odor. I’m human, after all.
For the record, I have not ever been called out for having an offensive smell, and to-date no one I’ve been intimate with has ever complained or protested. That includes times when I may have gone days without showering.
My reason for buying Lumē wasn’t an overt concern with body odor or perspiration, it was because the commercials were so damn good. It sounded life-changing, and some of the customer reviews said as much.
Unlike with the stick deodorant, I did not “taste test” the smell on my inner forearm. Instead, I applied a small pea-sized amount to the tip of my finger and applied it on the insides of my thighs, crease and all. It went on light and non-greasy, and appeared colorless. I washed my hands to remove any residual cream and started my day as normal.
Then I went to pee and immediately noticed something wasn’t right. There it was again - that cheese smell from the wine bar. Sour milk. Curdled baby formula. Someone ELSE’S parts!
The only way to eradicate it was to bathe, which I did, and again decided it was just my mind playing tricks. Maybe my olfactory memory was just so strong that I’d convinced myself the product smelled a certain way but actually didn’t. As with the stick, I decided to wait a few days before smelling it again. But I didn’t trust myself, so I asked my partner to do a blind smell test and report back to me.
“It’s really sour… it smells like sweaty ass… isn’t this the smell it’s trying to PREVENT?”
He said some other choice words and promptly went to the sink to wash it off his arm.
In a fit of rage and disappointment, I went to the product website as I’ve done many times before. This time, however, I scrolled allllllll the way down to the reviews section and sorted by LOWEST RATING to reveal the negative reviews. Hot tip: it’s a brand’s prerogative to display only the best reviews in their marketing materials. You have to dig deep to find the truth.
The reviews revealed, unsurprisingly, 80% or more who had critical feedback mentioned something about the terrible smell. Here are some actual, real-life examples from their website that resonated most with me:
“The smell is awful…”
“.... sour baby formula smell…”
“I think I got a bad batch, it smells worse than my actual sweat.”
“... smells like urea or something…”
“... smelled spoiled…”
“... smelled old and moldy...”
“... borderline foul…”
“Absolutely gross”
“... smelled worse than my parts do”
“The smell is enough to make you gag…. Like feet and mildew except 100 times more potent.”
“After about 4 hours I smelled like a rotten Italian sub sandwich.”
“... foul fragrance that is reminiscent of dry dog food.”
“… like feet and sweet plastic…”
“... like white cheddar cheese puffs”
Had I spent more time on research before investing in the product, you wouldn’t be reading this right now. I told my partner what I’d discovered on the website, that at least two other people mentioned curdled milk and/or cheese. Then I asked him if he thought it smelled vaguely like cheese. His response?
“Yeah, Fumunda Cheese!”
I felt a bit sick to my stomach at that point, determined to return the products and get a refund.
After scouring customer reviews and deciding to return the products, I polled a group of women in my private Facebook group to a) gauge their level of interest in this product review and b) to see if anyone else had tried the product. Many of them had tried it, and a handful of the women who responded indicated that they LOVE and swear by Lumē.
One woman weighed in and I’ve never felt so seen. She said, “...I feel like it has a body pheromone smell… it’s like I’m using someone else’s smell… it’s intrusive.”
Lesson learned: ask people you trust about it before making the investment, whatever it is. Chances are their feedback will help save you time, money, and a bellyache.
The Lumē website indicates they do not offer exchanges, which was a bit of a bummer. I planned to return the tube and stick in exchange for more of the wipes. The return policy also states you’ll get a full refund LESS shipping. The refund request processed very quickly (within a couple hours) and they sent a prepaid shipping label. I used a padded envelope from a different purchase, tossed the stinky products in, and dropped it off at the post office.
Since that time, I’ve received my refund and have used the wipes exactly TWICE. Again, while I enjoy the smell of the wipes and they seem to be effective for the most part, I don’t plan on purchasing any more from Lumē. The price is steep and the risk of whatever I order smelling worse than the smell it’s advertised to eradicate is not worth it at the end of the day.
Overall rating: 1/10 stars (only because the wipes worked out)
Have YOU tried this product? What did you think about it? I’d love to hear about your experience!
Reach out to share if you’d like.
BEFORE YOU RESPOND TO THIS REVIEW:
Please note that I am in no way affiliated with Lume deodorant.
I do not work for the company and have no association with it whatsoever. This article is based solely on my personal experience, and shared in the spirit of transparency and radical authenticity, two important core values in my small, independent business.
Since publishing this article in July 2021, I have received hundreds of emails from total strangers - some of whom agree with my assessment, and some which have been outright insulting to me personally.
While I read every single email I receive, I will no longer respond to messages about this piece of content.
I am a professional personal brand and style mentor.
Again, I do not work for this company and cannot help you with your order issues or offer advice on how to process returns, so please do not ask.
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