Showing posts with label Inga Muscio. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Inga Muscio. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

the second 'R' (re-use!)

I did a quick search and didn't see any major posts on reusable pads, so I thought I'd include a few links to sewing tutorials and/or places to purchase them online.

I first learned about the concept of reusable menstrual pads from the book Cunt by Inga Muscio (see here for a post by Jamie with an awesome quote), which I read in high school. It blew my budding little feminist mind: Not needing to spend money on pads all the time? Reusing my old flannel pajama pants or New Kids on The Block pillow cases for something useful? Sold! I made my first ones by hand without a pattern in my dorm room freshman year of college... they weren't pretty, but they worked.

Since then, I have used patterns from the internet and bought ones from small shops on etsy. This website has a huge list of patterns that you can use for making your own. Some have wings, some have instructions for snap or velcro closures, and others are just regular ol' rectangles of various thickness. These might be my favorites, just because they look incredibly comfy and well-made. I love being able to choose what materials and how many layers to use -- super thick and terry-cloth for night time, light cotton/jersey knit for easier days, etc.

If you're not crafty-inclined or simply don't have any time to spare, here are a few etsy shops that have listings for reusable pads:
Vulva Love Lovely
Mother Moon Pads
effie the pixie
... and of course, there's always lunapads and the like.

Whether or not you having a sewing machine, I would whole-heartedly (whole-vaginally?) recommend trying some out if you haven't before. Your vulva will thank you and sunshine will spill from your loins. Or something.

Monday, January 14, 2008

I'm almost finished reading Cunt, by Inga Muscio. It rocks. Here is one of my favorite parts:



I went to Anystore USA to buy a box of tampons. I had but eleven dollars to my name. I went down the aisle where I would find "feminine hygiene" products, bitterly playing that term through my mind.

Why are words like "hygiene" and "sanitary"-- which imply that a woman's cunt is unclean-- acceptable in our society? Why are these people trying to sell me feminine deodorant spray? That's like hawking floral air freshener to a lady who lives in a rose garden.

Also, excuse me, but what's so clean about dicks?

One never hears of sanitary jock straps, deodorant condoms, perfumed Hershey-squirt protection pads or hygienic ball wipes, whereas I've heard tell of need for such products.

So anyway, with thoughts such as these playing through my mind, you can imagine my dismay on tampon-buying excursions. If I happen to be in a good mood, it's simply annoying. If I happen to be in a bad mood, I am a green monster who lives in a trash can with a grand piano. On this occassion, I was in a bad mood.

I grumbled down the aisle, openly sneering at all the products on the shelves. New Freedom this and Light Days that.

Comfort, security.

Plastic applicators.

Discreet disposal pouches printed with flowers that do not exist.

I positively fumed as I scanned the prices. Five, six, seven bucks for a box of cotton. Sixty, seventy bucks a year.

Why the flying fuck should a woman have to pay some huge corporation over and over because the lining of her uterus naturally, biologically sheds every month?

 

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