For half the human population, it's one of those 'things' we can't escape. Like death and taxes. For the other half of the human population, it's one of those 'things' they don't have to experience or attend to, but must consequently put up with the fallout of on a monthly (or 28 day) basis.
That's right, class. Today we're talking about periods (aka. menstruation, monthlies, flow, rags, 'special friend' - let's just get those awkward words right out there where we can see them). And I know for the estrogen-challenged amongst us, this topic may be far from comfortable but let your unease in discussing the matter shed a fraction of light on the utter discomfort we women go through every month in the benefit of one day supplying you with offspring.
More specifically however, today we're talking about 'sanitary items' and the ridiculous, shameful way in which they are advertised.
Yesterday alone, between watching Neighbours and going to the cinema, I was confronted with two disturbing padvertisements which made me genuinely ashamed to be a woman. The first being:
I have a number of issues with this particular pad ad. The first being that under no circumstances what so ever would a man willingly get a pad out of a drawer for his girlfriend. This is blatant false advertising. If the words 'period, 'pad' or 'tampon' are so much as whispered behind their back in hushed voices, men run screaming in the opposite direction. They do not obligingly supply pads like a helpful worker bees. Secondly, no girlfriend explains the reasoning behind her particular 'sanitary supplement of choice'. There is no call or need for any kind of discussion of this variety. It's not about being prude or embarrassed, simply the fact that men don't need (or want) to know about what kind of pad/tampon their girlfriend uses in the same way that women don't need (or want) to know how many cans of XXXX their boyfriend can skull in a minute while balancing an orange on their head and doing the Macarena. That kind of info just ain't necessary.
The second pad ad to piss me off is everyone's favourite 'beaver ad':
You either love it or you hate it or you're in the boat where you're so disturbed by the idea that someone actually had to think this thing up that you're not quite sure what to make of it.
The question I want to pose from these monstrosities of public viewing is why feminine-hygiene-product-supplying companies feel they need to be creative and SO BLOODY COLOURFUL with the product they're selling? In the end, regardless of whether it comes in an attention-drawing box, smells like roses, is packaged in bright pink celephane wrap or is 'shaped to fit', it's still a tampon and no amount of dressing it up and savvy-selling is going to change that. We all know what they do. We're all familiar with their purpose and I don't need some beaver-toting girl on the TV to remind me of that.
But then again, I'm not quite the target audience, am I? As a 21-year-old with her fair share of period-pained years under her belt, I don't need to stand in front of the tampon aisle in the supermarket surrounded by my giggling girlfriends as I try to decide which tampon box resembling a Pez dispenser I'm going to buy this month (thankfully, those days are well behind me). Unfortunately, for those of us in the 16-45 year-old category who know exactly what brand we prefer (and have probably been using for the last however many years), we must put up with the $250 million dollar industry which churns out campaigns aimed at 13-16 year olds who are naively swayed by 'getcha free barbie with this tampon box' inspired packaging. We grab and go. Enough said.
So it seems, along with the next thirty years of seven day stretches involving mind-numbing cramps, emotional instability, cravings, headaches, yo-yoing weight gain and expense of $15 every monthly pay packet which must be attributed to supplying one's self with hygiene products, I get to spend the rest of my life putting up with the shameless, cringe-worthy padvertising surrounding things with strings and things with wings which I have long been familiar with. Will the torment surrouding periods never cease?
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