There's a time to be hot, wet and sticky.  But that time is not most of the time.  Most of the time one ought to feel confident that one's garments are not becoming one with one's flesh by way of some sweat-induced osmosis. I don't carry a bottle of baby powder around with me because I don't want anyone asking why I'm surreptitiously taking it into the office bathroom, but if I did I would pour a good amount of its contents into my nether regions after arriving at work from becoming an impromptu water feature on the subway platform first thing in the morning.  On such unbearable days, I will not take a seat on public transport even if one is available because the sound of sitting on the inverted puddle formed between my butt cheeks might be mistaken for a queef.  Which is biologically impossible, but still.  And I don't want the nice lady next to me taking the blame. 

To be featured sooner or later:  People who don't sweat.