Thursday, February 9, 2012

Product Testing

This morning, my friend sent out a link to a product so ridiculous, she had to share it. The two of us on the receiving end of the e-mail were incredulous. The three of us then spent the morning trading e-mails back and forth about the absolute lunacy of this particular product. My friends, I will now share the product with you. Warning: this blog is NOT for the faint of heart, the squeamish, or those with penises.

Behold. I bring you the Diva Cup.

It is a menstrual cup. Nothing more, nothing less than an actual cup that you insert into your delicate bits that you then dump, wash, and reinsert every 12 hours. An actual cup!

Let’s get the ball rolling by discussing the name. I hate the word diva. It has been warped and manipulated and tortured out of meaning entirely. A diva used to be a woman who had enjoyed great success, specifically in opera. Now it has become just another code word for bitch. Calling the product a Diva Cup is just saying that women are bitchy when they have their periods, so why not go full out and call the product a Bitch Bucket? At that would be cheeky and while still offensive, it would at least be subversive enough to appeal to a different audience. A Diva Cup is just insulting.

Next, we’ll move on to the packing itself. The box looks like a princess cup, something you would put out for your five-year old at night to rinse with after she brushes her teeth. In no way, shape, or form, does it look like something a woman old enough to have a broken hymen would use. Feminine hygiene products don’t need to be whimsical. We know what we are using them for – the removal of blood. Fairies don’t need to fly out of my vagina when I remove a tampon so can we start using grown-up colors and fonts, please?

Moving on to the actual cup – I certainly hope the box makes it look bigger. Otherwise, I might just add another verse onto Toby Keith’s song about Red Solo Cups. Do you need to be dilated to a certain centimeter before use? The website helpfully offers two different sizes. Model 1 is for women under 30 who have never delivered vaginally or via cesarean. Model 2 is for those over 30 who have. My guess is that both cups are exactly the same size. Michelle Duggar may need a pitcher, but I’m guessing the average woman has an average vagina. It’s why tampons don’t really come in sizes bigger than the width of one finger to the next.

Now let’s discuss cleanliness. According to the website, if you accidentally drop the cup in the toilet, or in any way expose it to unsanitary conditions, you must dispose of it immediately. Not to put too fine a point on it, but isn’t it by its very nature designed for unsanitary conditions? You are also supposed to boil it after every menstrual cycle. How many do you think melt long before anyone remembers that they were on the stove? In the FAQ section, I did love the question about allergies, specifically pertaining to whether the cup is free of tree nuts. Now, having some pretty severe allergies among friends and family, I understand having to ask certain questions. However, what exactly would a tree nut and a menstrual cup have in common? What type of factory would produce both on the same piece of equipment?

The marketing materials discuss how fresh the cup will make you feel and how liberating it will be not to be chained to a bathroom. Perhaps they were wearing their tampons incorrectly because I feel pretty footloose and fancy free when I use one. Besides, almost every woman I know has to pee more often than every 12 hours anyway (some seem to have to go every 12 minutes), so hitting the potty every couple of hours isn’t really that much of a hardship. In fact, it’s pretty much a necessity, even if you just want a few minutes to lock the door and try to play Angry Birds without someone looking over your shoulder.

My girlfriends and I have decided to skip the Diva Cup. While it is getting rave reviews on and seems to have a pretty healthy following, it isn’t my cup of tea. I prefer to drink mine out of something that didn’t get stuck up my hoo-ha.

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