Every woman who uses one swears by it: silicone or latex menstrual cups (such as the Keeper brand in the US, the Diva Cup in the Canada, and the Moon Cup in the UK). They don’t contribute to the pileup of pads in landfills, never have to stomach the thought of strange chemicals or bleached cotton contaminating their bodies, and save cash – hundreds of dollars (or pounds) every year, eventually thousands over a lifetime.
But what if you just don’t like the bloody thing?
Because not every woman does. “Publicists are always trying to get women’s magazine editors to jump on the diva cup bandwagon – but I’m so not there with it,” says Cathy Garrard, an editor and writer who has staffed at numerous publications including environmental magazine Plenty.
Many women won’t want to convert – try telling a woman with vulvodynia they should give it a whirl. Or a 13-year-old already suffering from the physical and psychological traumas of puberty.
The fact that the cup is not always a comfortable choice – despite the claims made by its manufacturers – could undermine ecologically-friendly products as a whole, which continue to be widely perceived as invariably “ugly” or “impractical.”
Full disclosure: I don’t like the cup. I tried. It wasn’t comfortable. Trying to get it out was far less easy than I was told it would be. A few days was enough before I quit – and it can take up to three months to grow comfortable with it. No thanks.
But less well-known are the equally ecologically and economically sound alternatives: re-usable cotton liners and lined underwear, such as Lunapads and Lunapanties.
Full disclosure: Lunapanties are my weapon of choice. They fit just as comfortably as normal undies, and are genuinely much more comfortable than synthetic maxi-pads, which bunch up and can be clammy (or damned cold in Canadian winters). Best of all: I haven’t had to buy anything in three years.
To be fair, most women who try the cup become devotees. My female friends are eager to endorse its virtues. Zuzia: “Love it.” Amy: “I’ve never had any problems with it – I often forget it’s even there.” Sarah: “I worry less than I did about pads leaking all over my clothes.” Rochelle: “They’re way more convenient.” Bethan: “It gives you freedom.” (Especially, as travelers will tell you, in remote locations.)
Jessie however shared my view: “Sounds good in theory, but I had a rather painful encounter with one of those things. The memory is still too vivid to try it again.”
Regardless what women choose the financial gains are indisputable and the ecological impact is considerable: each year in America alone an estimated 14 billion pads and seven billion tampons end up in sewers and landfills – or wash out to sea. Volunteers with the NGO Ocean Conservancy kindly gathered 17,239 tampons and applicators from beaches in the 2007 International Coastal Cleanup, just a tiny fraction of what remains out there.