Reframing how we think about menstrual hygiene and the body
While periods are mostly viewed as a normal part of healthy lifestyle for many people, the blood they expel from the body is often considered dirty. We treat it as something disgusting, to be hidden, disposed of, and never talked about. Keeping periods invisible is one element of the complex process of performing femininity. But how does this interact with our efforts to be more environmentally friendly consumers?
Is menstrual blood itself dirty, or have we been socialised to think of periods as dirty?
Periods are simply the body shedding cells that are no longer needed. Like we shed skin cells and hair, constantly. In fact, period blood is no more or less clean than any other blood. So long as the bleeder has no bloodborne diseases, period blood is perfectly safe to handle and breaks down safely enough to compost (and is not considered “regulated waste”).
But that is not the line we’re sold. People who menstruate are taught that period blood is unclean. We learn, often long before we begin menstruating, that period blood must be disposed of in ways that render it invisible, hidden. We are taught this – directly or indirectly – by parents, teachers, friends, siblings, and the media we interact with. We learn period blood must be disposed of in ways that mean we cannot see it and will not have to interact with it. Hiding the evidence of a period extends far beyond this: how many people learned to hide a tampon or pad up their sleeve when walking to a bathroom in a public place? My first boss once pulled me aside to instruct me on how to “properly” dispose of and hide any evidence of my period while I was in the office (flush the toilet twice was her unmet requirement).
‘Dirt is matter out of place.’
Through her research on concepts of purity and pollution in various cultural contexts, social anthropologist Mary Douglas explored what constitutes clean and what is considered dirty. To Douglas, “there is no such thing as absolute dirt” (1966). Instead, there is a set of rules classifying how things relate to one another, and specific acts or substances which contravene those rules. Something considered dirty is simply outside “a particular system of classification in which it does not fit”. A memorable example: the hair on your head is operating within the normal classification of where hair “should” be; once it is clogging the drain in your shower it is outside this classification, and so “dirty” (don’t get me started on social views of body hair again).
By this logic, period blood is fine while it is inside the body. As soon as it leaves the body, period blood is considered unclean. Dirt is a “residual category rejected from our normal scheme of classifications” (1966: 45). It is the existence of the blood outside the body – the moment it becomes a separate entity and no longer part of the body – that it is viewed as unclean. The stigma surrounding periods prevails in all facets of society.
Why? Because there is profit to be made. Capitalism runs the world, remember? Patriarchy and capitalism are mutually reinforcing systems that function together.
Thinking about how period products are advertised, the recurring themes are: reliability, protection, and discretion. The imagery used to represent period blood in advertisements is often a thin blue liquid more akin to a cleaning product than period blood, evocative of clean scientific labs, not messy bodily functions. The message is loud and clear: periods should be unseen and unheard (and any inconvenience they cause should be minimised).
No visual reference to blood was used in TV or print ads until recently. Early sales of “sanitary napkins” by Kotex involved a secretive system of placing money in a tin and receiving the products in an unmarked paper bag. The industry is so obsessed with rendering periods invisible that most period products weren’t even shown on screen adverts until after Courtney Cox was the first person to say “period” on TV in 1985.
Articles published in 2020 demonstrate the prevalence and longevity of the stigma: it was still considered “controversial” when Kotex began using a red liquid in their advertising (still, most companies are shying away from blood-red, going for a thin orangey-red). Even the absorbency testing avoids the substance real bodies produce: testing for a product’s “absorbency” (light, regular, super) is conducted using water or saline, not something that remotely resembles period blood (which is why they’re not as absorbent as advertised). The first study using blood was published in 2023 by Dr Bethany Samuelson Bannow.
We’ve all been the victims of marketing at some stage in our lives; most of the time we’re completely unaware of how something has been sold to us – often through repeated slogans, images, and campaigns that tell us we’re not good enough as we are. To sell you a product that will solve a problem you didn’t know you had, first the advertiser must create a problem for you, convince you that this is a problem everyone has, and it is imperative that you solve it. The “feminine hygiene” industry feeds on people’s insecurities about their bodies, most of which the industry itself has created.
The stigmas abound: period blood is dirty; vaginas are unclean; periods and vaginas smell bad; vulvas should be hairless. All are myths created by an industry that wants to sell you products you don’t need.
But these myths are clearly very convincing: the vast majority of people who menstruate use disposable period products, which cost the average person $20 US per month (some $18,000 in their lifetime). Disposable products are generally viewed as more “hygienic” or “cleaner” options than the wide range of reusable products now available.
So, what other myths are we sold?
There’s a myth that tampons have been around for thousands of years. It turns out this rumour was started by tampon company Tampax, trying to sell products by invoking a connection to the ancient past. But there’s no real proof that the Ancient Egyptians, Greeks or Romans used anything resembling a tampon. Historians think that most people menstruated onto their clothing, or onto rags that would be washed and reused. But these were made of natural materials that would decompose.
The notion of dirtiness associated with menstruation is linked to the myth of Menotoxin: a disproven scientific theory that menstruating women secrete a toxin through the skin during menses. This “toxin” was said to have the power to cause plants to wilt and die, to prevent bread from rising, and to stop jam from setting. The researcher who “discovered” menotoxin was a man named Béla Schick, who conducted experiments on his servants in the 1920s. This theory harks back to the notion that menstruating bodies were “polluted”, a belief first documented in medical texts written during the Roman Empire. This “pollution” was the reason many women would be temporarily exiled, isolated, and prevented from continuing daily social life and domestic duties; they were considered “indisposed” during their monthly courses.
This exclusion might be seen as a version of Agamben’s homo sacer, or bare life, in which individuals in Roman times were ostracised from participation in social and political life, and thus considered less than human, unworthy of basic human rights in both life and in death. Although, menstruators with the means to secrete themselves away for the duration of their period were provided a rest, a fallow period, or a “winter” as Maisie Hill calls it.
Today, we’re taught that leaving a tampon in too long causes Toxic Shock Syndrome (TSS). This is one among a handful of basic facts people who menstruate should learn about their bodies, but our “sex ed” classes in school do not tell us the crucial reasons why. TSS is not simply caused by the menstrual product, but by a particular bacteria (Staphylococcus aureus) that is commonly found on many people’s skin. Plus, cases of TSS have been associated with prolonged use of pads too.
In the 1980s, there was a spate of deaths from TSS (and more minor cases of TSS) among menstruators who used a particular brand of tampon – the Rely tampon (made by P&G who own Always and Tampax). This tampon was made with a specific combination of new (extremely absorbent) synthetic substances that had bypassed FDA testing in the USA. Unbeknownst to P&G, the composition of this new tampon created a perfect breeding ground for the specific bacteria that causes TSS, which also happens to thrive in the higher PH environment of the vagina during menstruation (non-menstruation PH 4.2 vs. menstruation PH around 7.4). Plus, the fever caused by TSS raised the bodily temperature, creating an ideal habitat for the bacteria to run wild. Dr Sharra Vostral calls the Rely tampon “biologically incompatible technology” – the manufacturer P&G had not considered how the tampon would interact with bacteria already present in a person’s bodily ecology.
The contemporary view of the body relies on the concept that disease exists outside the body of an otherwise healthy person. Historian Linda Nash calls for “reclaiming the ecological body, one more porous and situated with and within a landscape and environment, often polluted with industrial toxins now found in human bodies” (Vostral).
Is a social obsession with being “clean” moving us further away from our own bodies? Further disconnecting us from how our bodies work, how our bodies feel, and what our bodies produce in these cyclical processes?
We habitually place man-made products between us and the processes our bodies go through. Man-made and mostly man-designed, if you consider how many menstruators were likely involved in the invention, testing, funding, and marketing of these products. Lillian Gilbreth was the first woman to research menstruators’ needs in designing ‘sanitary napkins’, in the 1920s. Johnson & Johnson adopted some but not all of Gilbreth’s requirements in their patents (Vostral). Some companies state that tampons were invented by a man in the 1930s, though others claim it was a woman – in fact the tampon and applicator were patented by Earle Cleveland Haas in 1931, who product-tested prototypes on his wife.
Disposability and the “Eco Gender gap”?
Studies have shown that 71% of women and only 59% of men are increasing their commitment to ethical living. Researchers have observed: a prevalent association between green behaviour and femininity, and a corresponding stereotype that green consumers are more feminine (Brough et al.). Does a commitment to more ethical and environmentally friendly products extend to menstruation?
If we don’t re-use period products, we don’t have to touch our bodies or the substances that our bodies produce. Most menstruating people probably don’t like to look too closely at the blood soaking their pad or tampon, throwing away the disposable product, conveniently wrapped in the packaging of the next one or toilet paper. (I like to have a look at what’s in my cup before I tip it away as a way to measure how heavy and healthy my periods are. Whereas some people have begun using their menstrual blood as part of their facial skincare routine.) Periods are viewed as “dirty” and yet the offices that regulate what can be thrown away and where do not consider used menstrual products to be any dirtier than other waste. Discarded menstrual products are considered standard rubbish or household waste.
Conventional period products (big brands like Tampax, Always, Kotex, etc.) are designed and marketed as single use: they’re designed to be thrown away, and into landfill. 12 billion menstrual products end up in landfill each year. Yet, they are full of synthetic materials derived from plastic that are designed to last indefinitely. Disposable period products are made of a huge range of synthetic materials: tampons are usually made of cotton and rayon, and come with a plastic applicator; the BBC estimates a pad may contain as much plastic as 4 plastic supermarket shopping bags.
Ingredients lists from Tampax and Always product websites include:
Rayon, Cotton, Polypropylene, Polyethylene, Polyester, Glycerin, Paraffin, Ethoxylated Fatty Acid Esters, PEG-100 Stearate, Titanium Dioxide, Cellulose, Sodium Polyacrylate, Hot melt adhesive, Ethylene Vinyl Acetate Copolymer, PEG-7 Glyceryl Cocoate, PEG-10 Cocoate, PEG Sorbitol Hexaoleate, PEG Hydrogenated Castor Oil Trilaurate, Pigments (Red 122, Blue 15, Violet 19, Green 7, Black 2), Polyoxyalkylene Substituted Chromophore (violet), Polyoxyalkylene Substituted Chromophore (red), and Fragrance.
(Since healthcare regulations differ, so do the rules about what is considered “safe” for use against and inside the body. So, depending on where in the world you’re buying disposable period products, these may include toxic or harmful ingredients.)
In contrast, a menstrual cup contains: medical grade silicon. (I’m no scientist, but that looks like a major difference to me.)
Pads and tampons are designed to soak up liquid and do not break down in water (which is why tampons are not flushable, but toilet paper is) nor in landfill. According to research data, Tampons are the fifth most common single-use plastic item found on beaches.
Scientists estimate that most pads and tampons take 500 years or longer to decompose. On average, those who use pads will use 130-260 per year, or 5,000-10,000 over their reproductive years. According to some, the average tampon user throws away 16,800 tampons over the course of their lifetime. Each one of those pads, tampons, and liners will sit in landfill for up to 800 years after use.
For comparison: A tampon or pad made entirely of organic cotton would take a minimum of 6 months to decompose if composted properly. Natural tampons are classed as brown compost, like twigs, cardboard, and wood, and break down into compost that is safe to use after one year, according to Naturacare. Some products now come in water-soluble packaging that dissolves and breaks down quickly in water (eg. August tampons).
Period blood, on its own, if tipped out of a cup, washed out of reusable pads or period underwear would break down infinitely quicker.
Reusable pads, period underwear, and cups are perfectly safe for use, cheaper and more environmentally friendly products available on the mainstream market. Using a cup (which lasts 10 years) replaces up to 2500 pads or tampons. Menstrual cups and discs have a much greater capacity to hold blood than other product (major brands are Mooncup, Diva, Saalt, and Flex). Depending on the brand, you may not need to empty your menstrual cup more often than every 12 hours – far less often than changing a tampon or pad. All you have to do is empty the blood into the toilet (never down the sink or shower drains), rinse it, and it’s ready to re-insert. Keep it clean by sanitising the cup in boiling water after each period.
Each reusable pad (which are marketed as needing 4 pads lasting for a year) can replace 33-65 disposable pads. According to estimates, if everyone used disposable products, that would replace 800-1600 million pads and tampons every day.
Buying reusable products can be so much cheaper, especially when we consider tampon tax. Tampon tax or period tax refers to the addition of VAT to period products. VAT is typically added to the price of luxury goods, but not to products considered necessities. This has been a controversial issue in recent years: after the 5% tax was abolished in the UK in 2021, retailers made extra profit by only lowering prices by 1% and keeping the remaining 4% as profit. People who menstruate barely saw a change in the cost of period products.
I invite you to reframe your thinking about menstruation and consider how you can make changes that align with your values. Perhaps you’d try switching to period underwear (ie. Thinx or M&S), reusable pads, or even a menstrual cup? Or would you compost your used period products?
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Note on Toxic Shock Syndrome:
Possible symptoms of Toxic Shock Syndrome: sudden fever, vomiting, diarrhoea, fainting, dizziness, and a rash. If you have any of these symptoms after using any menstrual products, stop using the product and seek medical attention immediately.
Follow these FDA recommendations to reduce your risk of TSS: use the lowest absorbency tampon or pad necessary for your flow; wear a tampon or pad for no more than 8 hours; never use pads, tampons, or liners when you’re not menstruating.
READ ON:
A history of menstruation, Making Histories
How to compost period products, Natracare
Research on product usage, Womena
Mary Douglas’s Theory of Dirt, Pickering and Rice.
The lifecycle of a tampon, El Pais
Rely and Toxic Shock Syndrome, Vostral
Advertising period products, Get Ruth
Tampons, Menstruation, and Testing, Vostral
The chemistry of period blood, Chatty Gal
The eco gender gap, Mintel
Green consumerism and femininity, Brough et al
First menstrual product testing to use blood, Marie Claire
Organic and compostable single-use products by Naturacare and August
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