Since hair is already dead, there's no need to grow a culture in our strands -- just our scalp. Technically, we could have been washing the ends of our hair without ruining our experiment, but the beauty editors in us want to know if we actually even need shampoo. Up until the late 1800s, people washed their hair monthly; daily shampooing took off only in the 1970s. Shampoo-free advocates (no 'poo for short) claim baking soda and apple cider vinegar, or even just water, is all you need. We'll see about that.

I kneel on the floor alongside my tub, dunk my head under the faucet and work water through my hair for the first time in over three weeks. My hands become slick with grease. When I put a hand on the bottom of the tub to steady myself, I slip from all the oil. My hair smells like a wet dog.

Later in the afternoon, I can't tell if my hair is still wet or just greasy. It's ropey and tacky, like a dirty mop, and looks that way, too. My husband gets home from a business trip, pulls me in by the back of my head for a kiss and recoils. "Your hair feels like seaweed -- off a dead person."

I am my stinkiest today by far, killing all notions that my body would adjust and my sweat would become less putrid. The smell of Jessica and me together is overpowering, even to me. "Jessica, we stink." The rest of the team nods in agreement.

Rank pits aside, Jessica and I feel conflicted about showering tomorrow. I love that when it's time for bed, I can just mist, brush my teeth and hit the sack. I also sleep in 45 minutes longer than I used to -- and still get out the door early.

Still, we've decided to go right back to our old routines to see how our skin will react. After a month of cultivating a colony of good bacteria, we are sad to wash it down the drain.

My psoriasis is magically gone -- no more shedding, flaking or itching. Jessica's skin looks better than it has in months -- not a single blemish. She's worried that going back to beauty products will make her clear skin revolt. I fear my psoriasis will flare up again.

I'm back to my old wake-up time: 6 a.m. I rummage through my closet, looking for my once-beloved beauty products, wondering if I'll be smitten the moment I touch them again. Instead, this moment I'd been fantasizing about for weeks is utterly un-enjoyable. I'm cranky the entire time I shower, feeling harried and resentful of all the steps I have to complete just to get out the door.

When I look in the mirror after layering on 15 skin care and makeup products, I don't feel like I look that much better. I swipe on my favorite Dolce & Gabbana vampy purple lipstick, take a selfie and think, this looks terrible. Maybe I'm not used to seeing myself in makeup?

My husband takes one look at me and says he likes me better without makeup. I glower at him. At work, all I want is validation for the hour and a half I put into getting ready this morning. Instead, I have to dig for compliments.

It's four whole days before I shower again.

Three weeks have passed since our experiment. Jessica has blissfully returned to all of her makeup and skin care products. The minute she started scrubbing, she was hooked.

Meanwhile, I've embraced a much lower-maintenance beauty routine. Maybe it's the product of being married with a kid and having way less time to call my own (and fewer people to impress). I shower once or twice a week -- sometimes with body wash, but more often with just water. Not even my husband can tell a difference.

I've also given up antiperspirant and switched to an all-natural deodorant. This isn't the first time I've tried aluminum-free deodorant, but it is the first time it's worked.

But I can't quit face wash -- or shampoo. Beauty products beget more products, I've learned. Because I'm back on makeup and sunscreen, I need a cleanser. Within that first week of re-introducing face wash and foundation, I broke out all along my forehead. Amazing, considering that I went a month without soap and stayed pimple-free.

Saddest of all, my scalp psoriasis that was symptom-free for weeks has returned. The no-poo method turned out to be too little too late for my super-saturated strands. And I'm just not motivated enough to endure another month of greasiness while my scalp adjusts.

The good news for those who aspire to a more natural state of hygiene: Mother Dirt makes a preservative-free shampoo and cleanser that won't kill off the good bacteria. So you don't actually have to endure the squalor and stink of giving up suds.

So why haven't I returned to my Paleo beauty routine? Because even though it felt liberating as hell to roll out of bed and walk out the door, I work in the beauty business. Every day, gorgeous new products pile into the office, begging to be tried. Do I need all of these elixirs and baubles? Definitely not. Are they the secret to the most youthful skin of your life? Jury's still out. But do I want to use them anyway? More than I care to admit. Still, it's nice to know they're optional.

To find out more about our experiment -- and see more pictures -- follow me and Jessica on Instagram at @jilleprovost and @siremj.