“Exercise, Sleep... Be Free”: How Period Product Rhetoric Perpetuates the Menstrual Stigma


Brooklyn Hollander

 

Sept 2021

 

Menstrual products are regularly purchased by half of the human population for a large portion of their lives, with most menstruators using between five and 15 thousand pads and tampons in their lifetime (Borunda). In capitalist societies, advertisements play a key role in influencing both which products menstruators buy and how they view menstruation. As psychologists Joan C. Chrisler and Ingrid Johnston-Robledo state, menstruation, and menstrual blood more specifically, has long been strongly stigmatized, seen as disgusting, dirty, and a taint on a woman’s femininity (182–183). This stigma is not new, and it is the direct cause of the development and proliferation of menstrual products. In interviews published in 2018 with women born before World War II living in Slovenia, cultural anthropologist Polona Sitar highlights that prior to the advent of commercial menstrual products, women used home-made, reusable pads. Many women noted that they found commercial, disposable pads “liberating since not only was the risk of blood-soaked clothing reduced but the secret washing of home-made pads was obviated” (Sitar 775). Even in developed, Western countries today, this sentiment of liberation is a common element in menstrual product advertising. Hiding the evidence of menstruation (blood) is the primary purpose of menstrual products, and by effectively hiding menstruation one can escape the stigmatization associated with it.

While the themes shown in menstrual product advertisements have evolved from the inception of commercialized menstrual products, the primary purpose of concealing menstruation is a constant. Journalist Brianna Gardner walks through the past century of menstrual product advertising, noting Tampax’s release of the first commercial tampon in 1933 that emphasized its ability to prevent “the smell down there” and guaranteed “[f]eminine daintiness, ease, and comfort” (qtd. in Gardner 24). The idea of daintiness transformed into “protection” in the 1970s, and “earth-friendly” tampons came on to the scene as the newest marketing strategy in the 1990s (Gardner 24–25). Throughout it all, messages of secrecy and discretion are consistent. Always’ 2014 #LikeAGirl campaign showed “young girls running and throwing with confidence and athletic prowess,” and while it departed from the dainty feminine ideal, it failed to mention periods or even show their products (Gardner 25). Always chose to disassociate from the traditional concepts of femininity in period product ads, yet they still avoided mentioning, or even hinting at, what they are selling — something that would impede upon the menstrual taboo.

In recent years, menstrual products such as menstrual cups and menstrual discs have been popularized, aiming to be even more comfortable and efficient than tampons and pads. While Leona Chalmers patented the modern menstrual cup in 1937 (“The History of Menstrual Cups”), they only began to catch the public’s attention with the DivaCup. Despite being founded in 2003, the craze began around the mid-2010s; a quick YouTube search reveals numerous videos of people testing the DivaCup, with one 2017 video by popular YouTube star Safiya Nygaard sitting at over 10 million views. Alternatively, menstrual discs were only invented in 2015 by Lauren Schulte, the cofounder of the company Flex (O'Connor). Rather than sitting in the vaginal canal like tampons and menstrual cups, menstrual discs sit in the vaginal fornix — the widest part of the vagina above the vaginal canal. A 2018 advertisement for Flex’s menstrual disc emphasizes how it allows menstruators to function as if they are not on their period, even being able to have “mess-free period sex.” The Flex Disc is not reusable, but the Flex Cup is, fitting in with the environmentally friendly themes established in the ‘90s. While the marketing of these new menstrual product innovations attempts to appeal to consumers through female empowerment and eco-friendly rhetoric, it continues to perpetuate the stigma surrounding menstruation. These products pride themselves on their ability to hide one’s period not only from the public, but also from oneself. Thus, period products innately promote secrecy and shame — contradictory marketing messages celebrate female sexuality while simultaneously stigmatizing it when in the context of menstruation.

The Flex Disc ad begins with a woman, likely in her early- to mid-twenties, saying “Hi. My name is Kara and I like to f***.” This bold introduction sets the tone for the rest of the video, with the ability to have sex on one’s period as the main selling point for the Flex Disc. Kara goes on to describe why tampons are terrible: “you have to change it every three hours, sometimes it leaks, it smells horrible… and worst of all you can’t have sex, unless you like creating abstract art with your bedsheets.” The viewer watches Kara sitting on the toilet to change her tampon, watering a plant while unaware of the red splotch on her jeans, and scrunching her nose at the smell as Kara lists each issue. The messiness of period sex is illustrated through ketchup bottles being squirted over white bedding. While the exaggeration of period struggles is humorous, it also plays off the stigma of menstruation as dirty and gross, not only from the dialogue and visuals, but also the clear annoyance in Kara’s tone (“How to Not Let Your Period Ruin Your Life | Flex”).

Kara then complains that “carrying [pads] isn’t exactly discreet” while eyeing the pad in her hand that is about the length of her forearm. By exaggerating the size of the pad and emphasizing how not discreet it is, the ad builds off the well-established menstruation taboo and perpetuates the notion that menstruation should be hidden. The nature of the Flex Disc being even farther into the body than any other menstrual product makes it the most discreet and most effective at its job of concealing menstruation. The benefits of Flex, as Kara explains, are that “[it] can be worn for 12 hours… it doesn’t leak, it doesn’t smell, and it reduces cramping and bloating in 70% of our customers… There are no chemicals, it’s hypoallergenic, and it’s BFA free.” By pointing out what attributes the Flex disc does have and does not have, the ad implies that other menstrual products are the opposite. The use of negation is especially effective in creating this assumption; by saying that Flex does not have chemicals it makes the consumer question why the ad would mention that unless it was something to worry about other products containing. This concern is consistent with the pattern of disclaimers about toxic shock syndrome on period product packaging that began in 1980 after the CDC discovered women were dying from toxic shock syndrome due to the “synthetic ingredients in tampons... that combatted ‘odor’ and offered ‘protection’ through super absorbency” (Gardner 25).

By highlighting the ability to have period sex as the primary selling point, the Flex Disc advertisement implies that period sex is almost impossible because of how messy and gross it is. This raises the question of whether most menstruators and non-menstruators feel the same aversion to menstrual sex that is expressed in the ad. In a 2021 study of 136 menstruators’ conversations surrounding period sex, Valerie Rubinsky, a communications professor at the University of Maine at Augusta, notes that the participants’ attitudes about period sex ranged from positive to negative to neutral, and everywhere in between. While many participants identified as disliking period sex, often noting its messiness, many others liked it, felt neutral about it and partook, or liked it but were worried about their partner’s feelings (Rubinsky et. al 1367). Despite the menstrual sex stigma, many menstruators do engage in menstrual sex, a large contradiction to what Flex’s ad conveys. The Flex Disc’s selling point is clear — “And the best part: you can have mess-free period sex while wearing it” — but it is contingent on penetrative menstrual sex being perceived as impossible by as many people as possible. Thus, Flex aims to perpetuate the stigma of menstrual sex and capitalize on already established notions of the messiness of period sex in order to sell their product. However, the fact that many participants note that “[menstrual sex] can be enjoyable despite possibly causing a ‘mess’” (Rubinsky et. al 1373), highlights how Flex’s marketing capitalizes off the period sex taboo. Many were willing to have menstrual sex before Flex’s product existed, so Flex is only reinforcing and perpetuating stigmas that many menstruators have been moving away from.

In an online questionnaire I conducted, respondents, who consisted primarily of affluent, cis-gender women, were asked if they have tried period sex. Of the 668 respondents who were sexually active, there is a noticeable difference in the answers across age groups. The 23–29 age group, with a total of 30 sexually active respondents, had the highest percentage of people who had tried period sex, at 80%, with only 16.67% saying they are not open to trying it and 3.33% saying they are open to trying it. With 288 sexually active respondents, the 30–39 age group had the lowest ratio of people unwilling to try period sex, at only 5.59%, while 24.48% were willing to try it and 69.93% already had. The high portion of people open to the idea of period sex in this mid-adult range illustrates how, in practice, period sex is not as taboo as Flex makes it seem. However, with the 18–22 age group, we can see how Flex’s rhetoric might exacerbate the period sex stigma. Of 122 sexually active respondents, 28.69% had tried period sex, 36.07% were open to it, and 35.25% were not open. Because the group is younger, many are likely to have had less opportunity to be sexually explorative, which likely contributes to these statistics. This group also has the highest portion of any age group unwilling to participate in menstrual sex. The menstrual sex stigma likely plays an influential role in these young adults not feeling comfortable with the idea of period sex. Flex’s ad only plays further into the social stigma regarding menstrual sex, capitalizing off young adults’ fears of breaking such a stigma.

Like the Flex Disc ad, the purchasing site for Flex’s menstrual cup exploits negation tactics to reinforce the notion of menstruation as a constricting and limiting process. The page lists out eleven chemicals all with “No” in front of them and a red line crossing it out. Similar to the Flex Disc, the Flex Cup can be worn for 12 hours “so you can spend your day sleeping in, staying up late, or doing whatever makes you happy,” implying that without such a long-lasting product to hide one’s period, one cannot enjoy life and do what they want. The site emphasizes this again, saying that one can “be free,” implying that to attain freedom one must escape their period and the only way to do this is by hiding it from society (“Flex Cup”). It also matches with Sitar’s point that “[h]ygiene products were perceived as playing a key role in the liberation of the female body into the public realm” (780). This menstrual cup is unique from other menstrual cups because “[t]he Release Ring makes [Flex’s] cup the only one in the world that can be removed like a tampon” (“Flex Cup”). Supposedly, this makes the process of using a Flex Cup cleaner and more efficient than other menstrual cups. The easier one’s period is, the less it changes the daily occurrences of the menstruator’s life and the better they can forget the fact they are menstruating. This new technology allows the menstruator to get even closer to escaping their period and thus, according to Flex, attain freedom from it.

Environmental activism has become a prominent component of menstrual product marketing in recent years, with menstrual cups at the forefront. A key difference between Flex’s menstrual cup and menstrual disc is that the cup is reusable while the disc is not. The Flex Cup site even comments that “The planet might just send you a thank you note” for using their product. Even though Flex Discs are not reusable, the ad notes that “It produces 60% less waste than traditional period products.” Environmentally friendly products and language is compelling advertising. When asking menstruators if they are concerned about the environmental sustainability of the period products they use, most people said yes. There is a slight decline generationally, going from 87.06% (18–22) to 77.42% (23–29) to 73.02% (30–39) to 68.71% (40–49) to 64.71% (50–59), which illustrates an increasingly environmentally conscious youth. Another menstrual cup, the DivaCup, also emphasizes its reusability and 12-hour usage. On the back of the box, the DivaCup is described as “the economical, eco-friendly and leak-free way to experience total period comfort.” The site also asserts that it is made of “100% medical grade silicone, only the best for your vagina” and has “[n]o chemicals, plastics, or dyes because nobody wants that” (“Model 1”). This site highlights its safety through what it does and does not contain, just like the Flex Cup and Flex Disc. Also, the use of “you” and “nobody” reminds the consumer that the company wants the best for the consumer and that their product will do that.

All three of these products emphasize their ability to protect the menstruator from their period, with Flex capitalizing on their innovative technologies that make protection even better and freedom from menstruation even closer. This reflects a larger pattern in today’s menstrual activism that, as Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies Professor Chris Bobel and Women and Gender Studies Professor Breanne Fahs note, “is mostly concerned about ‘empowering’ menstruators via new and alternative products or by dispersing single-use products more effectively as the answer to ‘solving’ menstrual stigma throughout the world” rather than focusing on the root of menstrual stigma (956). By emphasizing how the freedom that comes with their effective products allows users to do anything they can do without their periods, Flex conforms to this precisely. Surprisingly, the Flex Disc ad strongly criticizes menstrual sex, which is not quite empowering. However, Kara’s outspokenness about having and enjoying sex, another often taboo topic for women, seems to act as the empowered menstruator element of the advertisement. The ad supplements supporting menstruation with supporting sex, thus emphasizing the vagina’s function in one aspect while erasing its function in another.

The messages that non-menstruating men receive about menstruation, or lack thereof, certainly play a role in how menstruators view their own menstruation and what sort of products are marketed to them as a result. In their 2017 study of 48 Australian men’s perceptions on menstruation, counsellors Tamara Peranovic and Brenda Bentley note an overarching theme from most respondents that the messages they received about menstruation growing up were largely negative and that their formal menstrual education was “inadequate, confusing, or non-existent” (119).

In considering how these perceptions have or have not evolved since their youth, some respondents now regard talking about the topic as a “non-issue,” while others “felt it was unimportant for men to know or talk about” (Peranovic and Bentley 119–120). The move towards more of a social acceptance of menstruation by men mirrors the many menstruators in Rubinsky’s study that used to view menstrual sex negatively, but now feel neutral or positive about it. However, that many men grew up learning next-to-nothing about menstruation and some still think that it is not something that should be discussed plays into the menstrual taboo. This likely influences many women to seek out products that better hide their period out of fear of being discovered as a menstruator.

As long as this stigma exists in some capacity, menstrual product companies will continue to perpetuate these stigmas in order to sell their product. The goal of menstrual products is to hide one’s period and protect the menstruator from being discovered. It is unrealistic to expect menstrual products to not aim for the best protection possible because that is their entire goal. Bobel and Fahs propose “radical menstrual embodiment” as a solution to this issue of getting over the stigma of menstruation. It is “an uncompromising feminist approach to combatting menstrual stigma and forging an invigorated connection between menstruation and fertility, sexuality, and gender” (Bobel and Fahs 958). The current marketing methods seen in the menstrual products analyzed here emphasize their ability to free one from menstruation, thus perpetuating the idea of menstruation as a trap and working against any efforts being made for radical menstrual embodiment. Menstrual product ads can only work toward radical menstrual embodiment if menstruation is not thought of “merely as a nuisance, a problem, or an impediment” (Bobel and Fahs 959) — Bobel and Fahs suggest merging “product provision initiates with educational programs and awareness campaigns” as one actionable step toward radical menstrual embodiment (Bobel and Fahs 958). Educational campaigns conducted via social media could be an effective way to begin a widespread movement of radical menstrual embodiment.

Menstrual cups and menstrual discs exacerbate the menstrual stigma by emphasizing their ability to liberate the menstruator from menstruation. On the surface, these advertisements appear to be empowering, supporting menstruators’ desires to do anything they want. However, by concealing a natural bodily function, the products suppress full embracement of the body, and thus the whole self. Since these conclusions are mainly drawn from the menstrual products of developed, Western societies, they do not claim to apply to societies outside that sphere. Nor do they claim to necessarily be representative of all demographics in the United States of America, as most respondents to my online questionnaire were likely white and more affluent than much of the population. Perceptions and stigmas regarding menstruation vary across cultures, so separate work needs to be conducted to draw conclusions on other societies. It must also be noted that these advertisements appear to make some assumptions about all menstruators being women. While not addressed in the scope of this paper, future work could examine what effects this has on menstruators who do not identify as cisgender females and how certain rhetoric can play a role in excluding these groups.

Works Cited

“About Us.” DivaCup.com. divacup.com/our-story

Bobel, Chris, and Breanne Fahs. “From Bloodless Respectability to Radical Menstrual Embodiment: Shifting Menstrual Politics from Private to Public.” Signs: Journal of Women in Culture & Society, 45:4. 2020. 955–983.

Borunda, Alejandra. “How Tampons and Pads Became Unsustainable and Filled with Plastic.” NationalGeographic.com. 6 Sept. 2019.

“Diva.” Merriam-Webster Dictionary.

“Model 1.” DivaCup.com. divacup.com/products/model-1

“Flex Cup.” Flexfits.com. flexfits.com/products/flex-cup

Gardner, Brianna. “Period Pieces: A Century of Menstrual-Product Advertising.” Bitch Magazine: Feminist Response to Pop Culture, 68. 2015. 23–25.

“How to Not Let Your Period Ruin Your Life | Flex.” YouTube. 2018.

“The History of Menstrual Cups.” Intimina. 6 Mar 2015.

Johnston-Robledo, Ingrid, and Joan C. Chrisler. “The Menstrual Mark: Menstruation as Social Stigma.” The Palgrave Handbook of Critical Menstruation Studies. 2020. 181-199.

O'Connor, Clare. “How Flex's Lauren Schulte Pitched Menstrual Discs To Boardrooms Full Of Men - And Raised $1M.” Forbes. 2 Sept. 2016.

Peranovic, Tamara, and Brenda Bentley. “Men and Menstruation: A Qualitative Exploration of Beliefs, Attitudes and Experiences.” Sex Roles, 77:1-2. 2017. 113–124.

Rubinsky, Valerie, et al. “‘Just Put a Towel Down:’ Approaching Conversations About Period Sex with an Intimate Partner.” Sexuality & Culture, 25:4. 2021. 1366–1382.

Sitar, Polona. “Female Trouble: Menstrual Hygiene, Shame and Socialism.” Journal of Gender Studies, 27:7. 2018. 771–787.


Brooklyn Hollander is from Newport Beach, California and studies in the College of Arts & Sciences at Washington University in St. Louis.

 
researchLeslie LiuIssue 2