If I don’t post something, my sister will start sending me anonymous hate mail. But, here’s the thing, I really don’t want to alienate the four dudes who read this blog, but I’m low on material and inspiration, so for the sake of everyone involved, I suggestion the four of you stop reading…
So, I was checking out Feministing today as per my usual rounds in the blogosphere, and there’s this post called Menstrual Musings: What's your fave period product? So I’m all, “Huh?” and “What?”
I mean, how many products can there be?
First of all, you should probably know that I’m one of those chicks who is more than happy to sit around and talk about her period in the presence of other similarly minded females who have all had a few too many drinks. I mean seriously, after a few vodka tonics, I pretty much go to the lowest common denominator on my list of conversational topics: BJs or my period. I should really stop drinking. Or read more.
So, I’m reading the Feministing post, and it includes the Diva Cup in its list of products.
And I’m all, “The Diva Cup? I’ve heard of that…”
Back in the day, when I was working for Big Pharma, I was often shipped off to different cities to staff a booth for a migraine drug at huge trade shows targeted at women. Something like… this.
Looks great, right? Grab your mom or a couple of friends, we’re going shopping! AHHHHH!
Talk about lowest common denominator. These shows would often stay open for 10-12 hours a day. Women would trek through countless aisles of exhibitors, taking free samples, chotchkeys, brochures, and other crap by the fistful. No one needed 10 brochures, per say, but hell, the brochures were free, why not take a bundle and dump them all in the trash later? Woman rolled around suitcases filled with JUNK. It was the Cliffs Notes version of American greed and consumerism -- the "take all you can" mentality that leads to waste, waste, and more motherfucking waste. It's those moments/hours/days/life lessons that make perfectly clear why the rest of the world can't stand us. Crystal, my friends.
I also learned that people sell the weirdest shit. Enter the Diva Cup. A woman who was working at a booth down the aisle from me at a show in Godforesakentown USA, came up to me because she was interested in getting some information on migraines. Then I noticed the thing that was hanging from neck. It was -- oh yes -- the Diva Cup… strung up like a piece of freaking jewelry.
Interesting conversation piece. And I, being an inquiring mind, inquired.
“Uh, what’s around your neck?”
Truth be told, when she stood there and explained the Diva Cup to me, I couldn’t help but cringe a little at the concept. I was floored not only that someone would use this product, but someone could make a living selling it.
Anyway, apparently women do use it (seriously, read the comments), and the kindler, gentler, slightly more socially aware person I attempt to be now (three years later) sort of gets it. At least from the environmental perspective.
So there you go. I posted. And you learned something.