A 'tween girl is having no fun at summer camp because she doesn't know anyone and, in her words, is "just a big, random loser." She sits alone, miserable, while the other girls play together. Then, one day, her fortunes change: She gets her period for the first time. She manages to wield this "red badge of courage" to make herself popular, appointing herself the "camp gyno" and handing out tampons to her friends who don't have any. But her fortunes soon change again. Her bunkmates start getting tampon-filled care packages, meaning her personal-hygiene supply is no longer in demand. Our heroine ends where she began: in social obscurity.
This is the plot of a new ad for a tampon-delivery service called Hello Flo. Is it funny? Effective? Annoying? And what does it say about the ways personal products are sold to women? We discuss.
Ashley: I’m trying to decide how to feel about this:
Ashley: Right? I think I want to like it more than I actually do like it.
Eleanor: Yeah, I appreciate that it doesn’t make getting your period seem icky or weird or shameful, and that it uses correct anatomical terminology.
And yet. What annoys me about these tampon delivery services (HelloFlo isn’t the only one--there's also The Period Store, Le Parcel, SentHerWay, and Juniper, which are all similar) is something that bothers me about a lot of products marketed toward women. I can see how this service would be helpful: It's really annoying to get your period and realize you are out of tampons and then scramble to get them at the last minute. Getting a monthly shipment of supplies fixes that problem.
The way these services are sold, however, drives me insane.
Ashley: Really? How come?
Eleanor: Just sell me on its usefulness, sell me on its convenience. Don't try to make me buy into this hip lifestyle brand represented by a precocious 11-year-old.
Also, if you follow the link to the website, you'll see it asks you to tell them "when you flo." "When you flo": Why not, "When you get your period"? Why does this regular biological occurrence have to be described in cutesy language?
Ashley: Yeah, that’s infantilizing.
Eleanor: Also, the tampon shipment comes with candy. Why does candy have to be involved?
Ashley: Yes, exactly. It almost feels like it sells getting your period as way more insufferable than it actually is.
Ashley: As though women somehow just can't handle getting their period without a side of chocolate, when in reality this happens every month. Women generally learn how to deal.
This is a problem with the art at The Period Store, too. The art on the website makes getting your period look like getting food poisoning, or the stomach flu or something. You see this illustrated girl slouching around in her pajamas, picking up the package from her front door all huddled over, and then you see her lying on the couch clutching the package and covered in a blanket.
I get that some women do get hit really hard when they get their period, and have to stay home from school or work. But that’s both uncommon and, in many cases, treatable. Getting your period doesn’t have to require quarantining or bathrobe-moping as a rule. Plenty of women just keep on keepin’ on during their periods—shocking as that may be.
As I was saying earlier, this is all part of a larger gripe I have with certain products marketed toward women: They’re not marketed for their effectiveness, but for some broader message they supposedly send about womanhood.