Sunday, May 27, 2007

The "Cloth Pads" Post

S. visited my apartment for the first time this weekend.

A friend called before S. came, and asked if I was "scrubbing everything," to which I responded "my apartment is always clean, thank you!" And it's true. The apartment is (thankfully) always clean and tidy, and so I only needed to do a few things like scrub the water spots off of the sink spigots.

There was one minor point of worry, though, and it had to do with the decorative ceramic jar that lives above the toilet. And... the tiny bit of white ribbon strung above the jar. And... um... the three pieces of cloth which were currently hanging cheerfully and colorfully from the ribbon.

I thought about taking the whole kit down, but figured he'd find out anyway soon enough, so I sucked in my breath, gave him the "grand tour" of the apartment and then paused by the bathroom.

"This is my..."

(Rather like Bridget Jones, my mind went "don't say menstruation station... don't say menstruation station...")

"This is where I keep my natural menstrual products -- please-don't-be-grossed-out!"

S. was extremely unfazed. He was the absolute absence of fazed. "Of course," he said. "It's like women do it in India."

So. Cloth pads. I feel like I should do a bit of an educational lecture, if only because they are so extraordinarily comfortable and functional and environmental and I want to recruit as many women as possible into jumping on the "natural menstrual products" bandwagon.

For those of you not interested in reading about the finer details of female hygiene, I've included a "barrier image" so your eyes might avoid looking past and reading anything you might find unsavory. It's a picture of a John Deere tractor. If you continue reading past the picture... be prepared for details.

Here it is:






All right... so y'all are my audience. Let's go!

I'm going to set this up as a question-and-answer, because it makes the most sense. It also makes me sound a bit like an advertising brochure, and that's pretty much what I'm doing.

When did you become interested in "natural menstrual products?"

Hmmm. I became interested about six months ago, for two reasons. First because of the Hyderabad trip. I was thinking "what can I do to take care of myself, travel, etc. without having to pack or buy a lot of bulky, cumbersome product?" And so I started doing a little research, and I ended up purchasing a Keeper, which is a reusable menstrual cup. Essentially one inserts the rubber cup into oneself, where it happily and quietly spends all day collecting blood, and at the end of the day one empties the Keeper into the toilet, washes it out, and pops it back in. (It's boiled at the end and at the beginning of every cycle for maximum cleanliness, but doesn't need anything but water between insertions.)

The Keeper, when it works, becomes then the only menstrual product needed. And it lasts for at least ten years.

But it doesn't work for every woman, and it didn't work for me, probably because I am very petite. However, by then I was totally committed to natural products (because of the second reason: eliminating waste, removing oneself from corporate sponsorship, and doing my bit for saving Mother Earth), and so I started looking at the other option: reusable cloth menstrual pads.

Okay. But I thought disposable products liberated women from the uncomfortable messiness of literally being "on the rag." Why go back to the rag?

Disposable products started out, perhaps, as liberating; but forty-odd years later they clog landfills and sewers, and force women to shell out thousands of dollars a year in what is essentially a captive market. They're another example of a corporate institution doing something we used to do ourselves, handling it badly, and then charging us for the privilege.

Not to mention that they're full of chemicals and dyes and all kinds of icky things.

Wearing cloth pads is not the same as shoving rags into one's pants. They're not rags. The typical cloth pad is made of a layer of fleece (very absorbent) on top of a layer of PUL (waterproof). The whole thing is encased in cotton or flannel or another soft, comfy fabric. Two "wings" snap around the panty and hold the whole thing in place.

In terms of environmental and social impact: cloth pads are reusable and have very little water drain (especially if washed by hand as I will mention later). They are also out of the corporate sphere and are exclusively made by women, by hand, in home-based workshops and businesses. The person making my cloth pads is a mother of two, who uses her income to allow her to stay home with her children.

Hmmm. Let's get the two big issues out of the way first. Leaks and smell.

(Do you wish you were looking at that tractor picture again? ^__^)

Leaks and smell are the two big issues which often make women uneasy about considering cloth. (The other issue is cleaning, which I will address in a moment.)

Since cloth pads are designed and made by women for women, they're done so with an eye to preventing both of the above. My pads, for example, have grooves sewn into them to prevent runoff. (Yep, told you I would get detailed.) The fleece-PUL combination, assisted by the "woman-friendly" design, has made the cloth pads the only products I've ever used which haven't leaked, particularly overnight.

As for smell... when changed as necessary they don't smell. In fact, they smell less than disposables, simply because the fleece sucks everything away below the outer cotton layer while disposables... um... let it all chill right there on the surface.

Cleaning. Eew?


Since I have a cat, I'm used to dealing with bodily waste. So... for me, no eww. For other people, maybe. It depends.

When you're changing a cloth pad, you can either wash it out right away or you can pop it into a ceramic container (no metal or glass; don't know about clay, etc.) filled with water and a little baking soda. Mine sits above my toilet and is shaped like a giant cabbage.

Changing at work: most cloth pads will fold up into themselves, forming a tiny envelope in which all the fluid is tucked away at the inside. They don't smell and can be kept discretely in a purse pocket (you know, that secret one) until one gets home. For added protection, they can be wrapped in, say, a plastic sandwich bag before they're stuffed into the purse.

Washing: If you purchase enough cloth pads (and a large enough ceramic jar) you could just wash them all in your washing machine at the end of your cycle. But that's a lot of pads. Chances are you'll be washing them by hand (because you wouldn't throw just two or three pads into your washing machine at the end of the day, would you? Promise me you wouldn't waste our precious natural resources in that way...).

To wash by hand: first, empty contents of ceramic jar into your toilet. (Don't let the pads fall in, ha ha.) This takes care of most of the liquid waste. Then grab one pad at a time, squirt on some liquid soap (I use the same body soap I use in the shower), lather, and rinse at the sink until the water runs clear.

Easy as pie and takes five minutes.

The harder part is drying, because those things have to dry somewhere, which means that they will be (gasp!) visible to the outside world. Mine line dry above the toilet, as hinted earlier, and they take about eight hours to dry. So the ones I wash in the morning will be ready for me when I get home from work, and the ones I wash at night will be ready when I wake up.

Well, I'm just about sold. But, pray tell, are there any other benefits?

Yes, and I'm so glad you asked!

In one word: comfort. You can't feel them (and neither can, say, your partner). They don't feel wet, they don't feel scratchy, they don't feel bulky. They feel like wearing underwear. No crinkling, no itching, no dried blood caught on the surface.

And they don't show through clothing!

Where do I sign up?

The best way to get your own cloth pads is through ebay. Just run a search for "cloth pads" and you'll start getting results.

However, since there are so many individual suppliers available, you might want to consider this guide before purchasing. It describes and evaluates nearly every home-based pad business on the market. (I use Punky's Pads and vouch thoroughly by their awesomeness.)

You can also make your own, if you're so inclined. Information can be found here.

And, finally, since y'all are online types, here's a whole community devoted to cloth pad use.

If you still have questions, feel free to ask in the comments. This infomercial has gone on quite long enough. Thanks for reading!

10 comments:

Beth said...

1) I love Bridget.
2) This was fascinating! I've seen those in the back of Bust or Bitch or something and always wondered how they worked. I'm trying to get myself to be more environment-conscious in lots of ways, so this is something to ponder.
3) I wonder how many people made it to the end of the post?
4) Love a fellow who can handle his menstrual products. Not like over half the world deals with them or anything.

Blue said...

I don't know how many people made it to the end of the post. But glad that you did. ^__^

You could always order a few products online (startup is cheap) and integrate them into your regular routine... if they don't work for you, you're out about $15. And if they do, then you can proceed from there.

tinkertoon said...

i have no idea what you are talking about... shouldn't this be somewhere in science journal?

nonetheless, i'll recommend this to my gf who can decide the pros n cons...

neha vish said...

Made it till the end. No squirms. :)

I worked for a while in rural Andhra Pradesh. They used cloth pads, but unfortunately, we took to advising against cloth pads for a few reasons. Just thought I'd talk about them anyway.

There's hardly ever running water in these villages. Clean running water is a luxury in most places.

If you don't have clean running water, washing and drying becomes that much harder. Besides, a lot of the washing of clothes is down on slabs, near mud. Leads to a lot of unwanted Urinary Tract Infections.

Buying clean cotton etc. is often more expensive than a box of sanitary napkins. A box of 12 sanitary napkins is about twenty rupees. (one of the cheaper varieties)

These women do so much of work (housework, farmwork, market work) - that it just felt criminal to ask them to do any more.

Phew. I should indulge in shorter comments. :)

Anonymous said...

Blue,

Not fazed by the subject, so made it to the end...besides, with two small kids, no bodily fluid fazes me anymore, if it ever did! :-D :-D

I'm not sure where your friend S. is from, but most urban women I know use sanitary napkins or tampons. Like Neha says, I think cloth pads are used only in rural areas nowadays.

In addition to the problems she mentions w.r.t. cleaning them, another one I've noticed is the quality of water, even in cities - with hard water, even undergarments tend to dry rather stiff, not soft, as they do here. Lastly, there are still taboos about women drying cloth used for pads in public, or with other clothing, so women who do use cloth are often forced to dry them in dark corners, which adds to the possibility of mold/fungus etc.

Regards,

Bitterlemons

Blue said...

Neha and Bitterlemons -- thanks. I guessed that I wouldn't be taking my cloth pads to Hyderabad because of the combination of issues/problems you mentioned (ironic, considering the whole thing started when I was looking for the most convenient way to handle menstrual supplies).

Very interesting that in rural India people are trying to educate women about disposables because of health issues, and in America people are trying to educate women about cloth because of environmental issues. Hadn't thought of it in that way before.

Daniel said...

I always wondered what the "wings" were for.

Not that I'll ever have any use for'em at all...but, uh, good to know!

Anonymous said...

Blue,

Oh I'd take them - and see if you can find a discreet place to dry them - seems a shame to lose the comfort, when you've found it. And comfortable pads for those times are such a must!

When I started my period in the dark ages, pads in India still were worn with a "belt" of elastic (like a giant rubberband, if you haven't seen these before) - I remember how badly those belts dug into my waist...by the 4th day or so, I would switch to cloth pads - no waterproof material to the pads, but I had underwear with a plastic bottom layer, just for this...with normal school activities (I cycled to school, played basketball and ran track) and a school uniform that *had* to be designed by a man (pale beige a-line skirts), staining was a real issue for us as well..thankfully all-girls school, so everyone was quite used to it.

But the memories...

I remember hailing sticky pads with great joy - and when pads with wings appeared, it was the ultimate in comfort!

Bitterlemons-in-nostalgia-mode!

Blue said...

Bitterlemons -- hmmmm.... I'll be staying in a university hostel, so I'm not sure at all what the setup will be (do university students, for example, do their own laundry?).

The fact that the skirts were A-line sounds even worse than the beige color. ^__^ I have never been able to wear an A-line skirt, ever, and shoving them onto adolescents sounds like torture.

Anonymous said...

University Hostels are probably upgraded from when I spent time in one in the late 80s, but we had fairly spartan rooms with a set of bathrooms at the end of the hallway. The bathrooms had separate toilets and bathing cubicles (rather like bathrooms at city rec. centers). There were some maids attached to the hostel (they were employed by the university) whose job it was to sweep/mop the rooms, most of us privately employed these ladies to also do our laundry for us. Many of us washed our own underclothing, and left only the washing of external clothing to these ladies. Our hostel had a large courtyard in the middle with clotheslines strung across it, and clothes were dried on these lines - in wet weather, we strung up clotheslines in our rooms, and had dank clothes all over us! Each maid was in charge of a floor, and most of the time, washed our clothes, dishes (if we cooked in our rooms), took washed clothes to the man who ironed them and so on.

Cousins in college now tell me that rooms in newer colleges have attached bathrooms, but other arrangements are pretty similar.

Doing laundry was (is) a completely manual task - no machines - clothes were (are, probably) washed by hand, in special areas set aside for the purpose, with "Washing stones" to assist with heavy scrubbing.

In the context of your pads, I imagine you should be able to wash them youself in the bathroom and hang them to dry in your own room.

Bitterlemons