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Tag: tampons
There’s oh-so-much misogyny to cover this week, including a larger-than-usual dose of transphobia, lots of cool study findings, and several Twitter accounts you’re going to want to go follow right now. (As usual, trigger warnings for pretty much everything apply.)
I spent a year and a half as the community manager for a major tampon and pad brand. I enjoyed opening with this at parties beacuse it always got a good conversation going. As a pro-woman, ra-ra feminist, I genuinely liked working with this brand and I learned a lot about the awesome people who […]
In my day job, I talk a lot about periods. Tampons. Pads. Menstrual cups. What every little quirk in your cycle could possibly mean. But I have to be funny when I do it, and I can tell you, that’s a lot of pressure.
They say that it is the most sacred of menstrual objects. Legends of its magnificent power run far and wide and the devotion shown to the object is on the level with some of the holiest objects gracing the planet. Behold dear readers, I have seen the Diva Cup.
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Crimson Tide Diaries: Luna Pads
Congresswoman Carolyn B. Maloney (D-NY), a longtime women’s health advocate, has introduced “The Robin Danielson Act” (H.R. 5181), legislation that directs the National Institutes of Health (NIH) to conduct research and determine the extent to which the presence of dioxin, synthetic fibers, and other tampon additives pose any health risks to women. The bill also […]
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Crimson Tide Diaries: The Sponge
I’ve been a tampon girl most of my life – even at the tender age of 14 when I first got my period in a crowning glory fashion any child could be proud of: in front of all my classmates, all over the new (and only) pair of nice khakis my mother has ever bought me, […]
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In Praise of the Diva Cup
Ok, this isn’t completely unfettered praise because the Diva Cup or Keeper or whatever menstrual cup you prefer to use isn’t perfect. But, I feel like I need to defend the Diva Cup ““ or at least discuss it honestly. The poor thing is the hairy-armpitted, Birkenstock-clad, Patchouli-smelling hippie outcast of the feminine hygiene world.