Motivational Tampons: NO
Now, anyone who has known me for five minutes can tell you: I am not a violent person. I’m not prone to throwing things, punching people, or flipping out for no reason. But you know how there are certain situations that add insult to injury? Your hackles raise, and you might fly off the handle a bit? Well, this morning, I find myself in just such a situation.
First, they arrived with a smiley face, and I did not say a word. Now, they’re come with inspirational sayings, and I can’t keep quiet any longer. TMI: I have my period. As such, I grabbed a handful of tampons this morning. Maybe I’ve been living under a blissful, chocolate-laden rock – but when in the holy hell of Ohio’s hellmouth did tampon companies start writing motivational saying on tampon wrappers? I mean, they are aware they’re not Dove, right? No one is going to eat this thing.
Of course, to make it worse, I’ve discovered a bit of a grammar snafu. An inconsistency born of vagrant capitalization. A single tampon reads: Celebrate a bold attitude – followed by, “Live Fearlessly!” First, hello, unnecessary exclamation mark. Second, there’s no reason to capitalize fearlessly, especially considering the other sentence has no such construction. Inconsistency, thy name is tampon. *ahem* But seriously, why would a tampon make me want to celebrate a bold attitude? Is there something inherently brazen about tampons? Will using one make me suddenly unafraid of heights?
On another, I’m treated to more erroneously caps: Respect all, Fear none. Honestly, I’m not really loving that comma. Whoever wrote it would’ve been better served by a period. Of course, it’s nowhere near as annoying as, “Go play, I’ve got your back.” Because comma splices cause me actual physical pain, much like my uterine lining is currently doing. First of all, the very last thing I’ve like to do right now is to go play. What part of I’m bleeding conjures up the idea of carefree frolicking? I’d be much more inclined to get in bed, eat candy, and take the world’s longest nap – such that Rip Van Winkle would be like, “Damn girl, you can sleep.” Except I can’t, because I’m an adult. Instead, I’m trying to get through the day without being outwardly cranky.
Next up, we’ve got, “Your period shouldn’t change your active life.” Okay, at least that’s a well-constructed sentence. But you’ll forgive me for asking: by inference and implication, should it change my inactive life? What, exactly, would that entail? This is accompanied by, “Play by your own rules.” I feel like that’s curious, because I wasn’t aware that I should play by someone else’s. Have I been doing that and been unaware – and ye gods, for how long? I should hate to think that I’ve been blindly living my life, constrained by an outside guiding force. Are you there, tampon – it’s me, Ali. Thank you for the permission to play by my own rules.
Lastly, I’ve got two more gems here. There’s “Strive to do your best” and “Declare yourself a winner.” To the first, I’ll say: damn, after all this time, I’ve simply been striving to be mediocre. Thank you for this awakening. To the second, I’ll say: what? What am I a winner of? Does it really count if I just declare it? Do I need a flag? (Shout out to Eddie Izzard.) What if everyone starts running around shouting, “I’m a winner!” and spiking some imaginary football? Would the fabric of society break down? Would everyone get a cookie? And, more importantly, if everyone gets a cookie, does that mean less cookies for me?
The thing is, I get that writing on tampons might be a good avenue for marketing. What I disagree with is what’s written there, because I’m cranky. And the last thing I want to read is a canned accolade that’s older than Mount Rushmore. You know what would be effective? If funny thing were written on the tampons. You know how SoBe writes amusing bits of nonsense on the underside of the lids of their drinks? Do that. Amuse me, and it will make me love your product. Hell, even just saying, “Go eat chocolate.” would please me more. But honestly, make me laugh, and I will adore your brand. Tell me ridiculous things, and it will annoy me. It will make me question your understanding of what a period is, of women and general, and how realistic it is assume that all your marketing executives were dropped on their heads as children. Or last week. Because the only explanation for thinking that is a good marketing campaign is a freakin’ concussion. Savvy?
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go pretend to be human for a few hours – after which, I’ll be curling up with cake. Don’t judge me: you know you want cake, too.