Gratuitous use of the word Vagina
Mary Tudor was reputed to have said "When I die you will find the word Calais engraved on my heart". In my case, it will be the words "Tampax Tampons".
Mary only had a thing for Calais because they didn't have Tampax back in those days. If they had, I'm sure that like me she would have been eternally grateful to this humble piece of cotton-wool-onna-string and its role in liberating women from spending three or four days a month sat on something wet and lumpy and possessed of a strong determination to work its way up your back. I remember even now my adolescent triumph on the day I finally managed to insert my first Tampax and join the ranks of the padless. It was a Tampax tampon then, and it has remained a Tampax tampon for the best part of 35 years*. A brand loyalty that most companies would kill for.
The joy of Tampax is its simplicity. Cotton wool. Onna-string. Stick it in the appropriate place and forget it even exists. However in recent months, for some reason it has been reminding me of its existence. What used to sit comfortably and unnoticeably in the upper reaches of my vagina now appears to be working its way down in a rather uncomfortable fashion, to sit unpleasantly on the muscles at the entrance to the vagina in question, there to advertise its presence with every step and movement.
At first I thought it was my fault - I hadn't inserted it right. Easily enough done, and easily rectified you just remove the offending tampon and insert a new one, making sure to give the plunger a good hard shove to get it right up in there. But repeating the process simply resulted in the same..er... results. A new fear dawned - perhaps this was a sign of my advancing years. Perhaps I no longer had the strength in my wizened, ancient arms to shove the plunger with sufficient force. Perhaps - horror upon horror - I was experiencing some dreadful internal shrivellage of the sort that the Daily Mail delights in warning us about. I checked. I didn't feel shrivelled. Then I checked somewhere else entirely. The outside of the Tampax box.
(btw, if anyone is feeling a bit squeamish at this point, I'd go and hide behind the sofa or something till this is done, because it's only going to get worse)
God help us, an "innovation". The Tampax Clean System™.
Fig 1 - Unexpected Innovation
The Sandworm-From-Dune applicator tip and the knobbly Anti-Slip Grip are nothing new, those have been there for years, but regard the third circle! That wasn't there the last time I looked. Tampax Tampons now have a Protective Skirt™
Fig 2 - Tampon with skirt
A what??
Okay, let me see if I've got this right - you plunge the tampon, with it's scarey, Sandworm-from-Dune applicator tip deep into the cavernous** recesses of your vagina, taking care to position it high enough up so that it doesn't sit on the entrance muscles and cause discomfort. And then this frilly skirt-thing unravels and creeps down your vagina, settling on the entrance muscles, and - a little Googling of other women's experiences informs me - occasionally also poking outside and acting as a wick, causing blood to leak out onto your knickers, exactly as it did onto those hated pads in days of yore (although at least without the attempt to crawl up your back - I guess they are saving that for the next "innovation")
What bright spark thought this one up? Not someone, I hazard a guess, who has ever been the owner of a standard vagina. I have the same thoughts about this new design of Tampax as I do about Tesco ready-meals - Did anyone actually think to stick it into the orifice it was intended for and try it out before unleashing it on an unsuspecting public?
Also - and slightly tangentially - why are they promoting this as their "Clean System™"? Vaginas (vaginae?) are not, by their nature, particularly spruce. I remember when I first started using Tampax, their boast then was that there was a wrapper on the outside of the applicator, which itself was on the outside of the tampon, so that ".... your hands need never touch the tampon.". I don't know about anyone else, but the other thing which gets inserted into my vagina on a regular basis does not come in a wrapper, and its owner quite regularly handles it*** Nevertheless me and my vagina have survived many years of this reckless lack of sterility without incident. Difficult to believe, I know.
I've stuck with Tampax tampons for 35 years. Through their curious phase of selling them in packets of eight (eight??), and even through the introduction of the dreaded Sandworm-from-Dune applicator. (yes, those spikey, outwardly-opening flaps can be every bit as eye-watering as they look if you're not careful!)
Fig 3 - Sandworm From Dune
Fig 4 - Tampax Tampon Applicator
When, on that auspicious day back in 1974, I launched my first Tampax up my maidenly vagina, it came from a packet of twelve and had no flaps over the end. It was perfect. It was right. It worked. Despite numerous not-for-the-better changes over the years, I have remained loyal, but this is a skirt too far! Reluctantly, I must now seek an alternative. I cannot return to the Lumpy Things Which Creep, (although these days they are less lumpy and have wings, which presumably enable them to fly rather than creep) and I am equally unenthused about the Sandworm-less types of Tampon that you just poke in with your finger, since poking a dry piece of cotton wool into my vagina rates somewhere alongside eating feathers or encouraging White Cat to lick my eyeballs in my list of Things I'd Rather Not Do. Sadly, the alternatives to Tampax are few. I am currently road-testing a Tesco tampon, which is a desperately humiliating thing to admit, but needs must.
In the meantime, I can at least console myself that when Halloween comes round again, I will find a use for Tampax with skirts:
Fig 5 - Alternative Use For Tampon With Skirt
* Not the same one, obviously
** Two kids. What can I say?
*** Probably more regularly than is strictly necessary, and I would venture that this is the case for most owners of such things.
Mary only had a thing for Calais because they didn't have Tampax back in those days. If they had, I'm sure that like me she would have been eternally grateful to this humble piece of cotton-wool-onna-string and its role in liberating women from spending three or four days a month sat on something wet and lumpy and possessed of a strong determination to work its way up your back. I remember even now my adolescent triumph on the day I finally managed to insert my first Tampax and join the ranks of the padless. It was a Tampax tampon then, and it has remained a Tampax tampon for the best part of 35 years*. A brand loyalty that most companies would kill for.
The joy of Tampax is its simplicity. Cotton wool. Onna-string. Stick it in the appropriate place and forget it even exists. However in recent months, for some reason it has been reminding me of its existence. What used to sit comfortably and unnoticeably in the upper reaches of my vagina now appears to be working its way down in a rather uncomfortable fashion, to sit unpleasantly on the muscles at the entrance to the vagina in question, there to advertise its presence with every step and movement.
At first I thought it was my fault - I hadn't inserted it right. Easily enough done, and easily rectified you just remove the offending tampon and insert a new one, making sure to give the plunger a good hard shove to get it right up in there. But repeating the process simply resulted in the same..er... results. A new fear dawned - perhaps this was a sign of my advancing years. Perhaps I no longer had the strength in my wizened, ancient arms to shove the plunger with sufficient force. Perhaps - horror upon horror - I was experiencing some dreadful internal shrivellage of the sort that the Daily Mail delights in warning us about. I checked. I didn't feel shrivelled. Then I checked somewhere else entirely. The outside of the Tampax box.
(btw, if anyone is feeling a bit squeamish at this point, I'd go and hide behind the sofa or something till this is done, because it's only going to get worse)
God help us, an "innovation". The Tampax Clean System™.
Fig 1 - Unexpected Innovation
The Sandworm-From-Dune applicator tip and the knobbly Anti-Slip Grip are nothing new, those have been there for years, but regard the third circle! That wasn't there the last time I looked. Tampax Tampons now have a Protective Skirt™
Fig 2 - Tampon with skirt
A what??
Okay, let me see if I've got this right - you plunge the tampon, with it's scarey, Sandworm-from-Dune applicator tip deep into the cavernous** recesses of your vagina, taking care to position it high enough up so that it doesn't sit on the entrance muscles and cause discomfort. And then this frilly skirt-thing unravels and creeps down your vagina, settling on the entrance muscles, and - a little Googling of other women's experiences informs me - occasionally also poking outside and acting as a wick, causing blood to leak out onto your knickers, exactly as it did onto those hated pads in days of yore (although at least without the attempt to crawl up your back - I guess they are saving that for the next "innovation")
What bright spark thought this one up? Not someone, I hazard a guess, who has ever been the owner of a standard vagina. I have the same thoughts about this new design of Tampax as I do about Tesco ready-meals - Did anyone actually think to stick it into the orifice it was intended for and try it out before unleashing it on an unsuspecting public?
Also - and slightly tangentially - why are they promoting this as their "Clean System™"? Vaginas (vaginae?) are not, by their nature, particularly spruce. I remember when I first started using Tampax, their boast then was that there was a wrapper on the outside of the applicator, which itself was on the outside of the tampon, so that ".... your hands need never touch the tampon.". I don't know about anyone else, but the other thing which gets inserted into my vagina on a regular basis does not come in a wrapper, and its owner quite regularly handles it*** Nevertheless me and my vagina have survived many years of this reckless lack of sterility without incident. Difficult to believe, I know.
I've stuck with Tampax tampons for 35 years. Through their curious phase of selling them in packets of eight (eight??), and even through the introduction of the dreaded Sandworm-from-Dune applicator. (yes, those spikey, outwardly-opening flaps can be every bit as eye-watering as they look if you're not careful!)
Fig 3 - Sandworm From Dune
Fig 4 - Tampax Tampon Applicator
When, on that auspicious day back in 1974, I launched my first Tampax up my maidenly vagina, it came from a packet of twelve and had no flaps over the end. It was perfect. It was right. It worked. Despite numerous not-for-the-better changes over the years, I have remained loyal, but this is a skirt too far! Reluctantly, I must now seek an alternative. I cannot return to the Lumpy Things Which Creep, (although these days they are less lumpy and have wings, which presumably enable them to fly rather than creep) and I am equally unenthused about the Sandworm-less types of Tampon that you just poke in with your finger, since poking a dry piece of cotton wool into my vagina rates somewhere alongside eating feathers or encouraging White Cat to lick my eyeballs in my list of Things I'd Rather Not Do. Sadly, the alternatives to Tampax are few. I am currently road-testing a Tesco tampon, which is a desperately humiliating thing to admit, but needs must.
In the meantime, I can at least console myself that when Halloween comes round again, I will find a use for Tampax with skirts:
Fig 5 - Alternative Use For Tampon With Skirt
* Not the same one, obviously
** Two kids. What can I say?
*** Probably more regularly than is strictly necessary, and I would venture that this is the case for most owners of such things.