I Tested Courteney Cox’s Room Spray in My Home Gym, Post-Peloton

Here’s how it held up.
Julie Vadnal Avatar
Living room with flowers growing everywhere
Courtesy of Homecourt

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Room sprays are tricky, right? You spray them toward…where? The fragrance attaches to…what? A fabric spray, on the other hand, makes perfect sense; it adheres to the cloth, and you’ll rarely find me without a bottle of Febreeze in my closet. But an aerosol can with a trigger that just emits a powdery scent into the ether? As my spiritual guru, Amy Poehler, says: Good for you! Not for me.

But if there’s someone who could convince me to try a room spray, it’s the literal queen of clean: Ms. Courteney Cox herself. If you don’t already know, she’s the brains behind Homecourt, the frequently-sells-out brand of surface cleaners; soaps; candles; and, now, a nonaerosol spray that’s cheekily named Room Deodorant.  

Homecourt Room Deodorant

Soap, candle, and room deodorant by Homecourt
Courtesy of Homecourt

Homecourt’s Room Deo (my abbreviation, not the company’s) comes in the brand’s four signature scents (Cece, Steeped Rose, Neroli Leaf, and Cipres Mint), the latter of which I tested in my apartment over the past four weeks. The idea is this: You aim the nozzle toward the smell (and 8 to 10 inches from the wall), then the ingredients go to work: zinc ricinoleate, which commonly appears in body deodorant, traps and absorbs odor, and yeast ferment breaks down the bacteria. Finally, charcoal purifies the air. 

I tried it in the bathroom, in the kitchen on a night I cooked fish, and in my tiny office after a Peloton class, and it killed the bad smells every time. The one thing I found especially pleasing is that the fragrance doesn’t linger for more than a half hour or so—unless my nose got used to it. (I don’t love an overly perfumed home.) The packaging, like all Homecourt products, is understated, and the tall deep green canister would look perfectly chic on a bathroom counter. 

Homecourt bottles on a white surface
Courtesy of Homecourt

Sure, it’s pricey ($45 for 3.4 ounces), but I still haven’t finished my sample, and the sophistication of the scents—Cox based Cece on her favorite perfume—sets her year-old line apart from the Lysols of the world. 

Would I carelessly hold down the trigger of a drugstore aerosol can and spray with wild abandon? Probably not. But Homecourt’s chic version makes me want to spritz to my heart’s (and nose’s) content. 

Shop Homecourt Room Deodorant

Cece Room Deodorant

Homecourt
$45

Cipres Mint Room Deodorant

Homecourt
$45

Neroli Leaf Room Deodorant

Homecourt
$45

Steeped Rose Room Deodorant

Homecourt
$45

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Julie Vadnal Avatar

Julie Vadnal

Deputy Editor

Julie Vadnal is the deputy editor of Domino. She edits and writes stories about shopping for new and vintage furniture, covers new products (and the tastemakers who love them), and tours the homes of cool creatives. She lives in Brooklyn.