I started my periods when I was nine. It was a joyous experience to be in primary school attempting to sort myself out with toilet paper that we also used as tracing paper while my friends were skipping around the playground. I had woken up one night with hideous tummy ache and got into bed with my mum and dad in an attempt to feel better. The next morning I looked at my pants, saw a red devil staring back at me and went downstairs and showed my mum. She said ” you’re a woman now Evelyn ” and I returned to my bedroom to see a pile of pads so big that they could have stopped the great flood of 1953 on the bed waiting for me.I might as well have stuffed my vagina with a pillow. My life had changed forever.
I am a medical marvel and have a condition called uterus didelphis.I have a twin set of wombs and a tombolas worth of vaginal entrances but this wasn’t discovered until I was 24.I’d spent the previous 15 years dealing with the niagara falls of periods that were so heavy and painful , that I had collapsed one night slumped over the bath. My drunk brother had come in and did a wee in the bidet next to me and asked me why I was hugging the bath and wailing. I now realise that having a period is a luxury and I was slumped over the bath as I was pretending I was on a spa break.
Women get periods. Unless we want to bear 57 fruits of our loom, we realise that once a month, auntie flo will come and move into our nether regions and will make herself comfy . Prior to having a child, she would visit me for two weeks and drain the life out of me . I have got used to the “must not wear white trousers until day five /must bring spare scarf to sit in so I don’t ruin my friends white leather sofa/ must not wear that dress that hugs my bum fairly tightly as you can see the outline of the pad” type thoughts.
Sometimes, she comes for an unexpected visit and catches you off guard. You go to the loo and think , what the dickens, I’ve got no effing tampons and then spend twenty minutes fashioning a makeshift pad out of a pile of loo roll wrapped around your crackerjacks. You then mad a mad dash to the corner shop while praying that said stuffed loo roll doesn’t make a break for freedom and attempt day release and drop out on the road outside your neighbours house.
Now ladies, what we must realise , is that these said tampons, that can cost up to seven quid, are in fact , luxury items according to the government . I want to know where these luxury tampons are . I’ve had a hunt around tesco and for the life of me I couldn’t find the diamond encrusted tampons anywhere . Is the corner shop playing a terrible trick on me and hiding the gold rimmed sanitary towels behind the pork pies ? All I can find are expensive lumps of chemical cotton wool . Some of them do have wings so maybe I should wear those ones as I fly around in my personal helicopter ?
At this present time in the UK, sanitary items are taxed at five percent. Ok I hear you say but do you realise that they are deemed as non essentials. I wish I had realised when I was nine, that I was sitting cross legged in assembly with a luxury item half way up my back.
I mean, of course they aren’t essential. We could all just not use sanitary items and go with the flow and bleed out everywhere, leaving our mark in our path. Free bleeding is the new trend on the block ,but even if I fancied just laying on my bed pantless and padless, I’m not sure my job allows for this “hi manager, ya,a week a month I won’t be coming in as I shall be staying at home to decorate my floor with my period so can you cancel my 10.15 meeting and tell them I’ll reschedule when I’ve hit my menopause “. Or I could just go to work sans Dr whites and make everyone think I have had a terrible accident while making a pivot table on my excel spreadsheet.
Do you know that marshmallow tea cakes are deemed as an essential item and therefore have zero VAT attached to them? This has given me a marvellous idea. Next month, sod the sanitary towels – I’m sticking a packet of Tunnoks tea cakes in my under crackers. Why don’t you join me ? We can sip champagne while we do it .
Labour MP Stella Creasy this week delivered a stonking speech in the House of Commons to a pile of men in suits who have never endured a flaming party in their pants like us women, outlining the ridiculousness of taxing sanitary items at five percent to encourage them to vote to cut this tampon tax.I mean , what’s a kebab without a pitta bread around it indeed- got to keep that sauce under control haven’t we Stella. Give this woman a years supply of platinum dipped tampons for her brilliant effort. It’s just such a shame all the nodding suits failed to see her point and voted against a move to make the government to cut tax on these lumps of luxury.
I had a lovely evening last night. I flew to tesco in my helicopter and picked up some essential items for dinner – Kangaroo steaks with jaffa cakes for dessert. Thank goodness the government has deemed these as essential as what else would I eat alongside my potato waffles. I then thought ,what the hell, I’ll push the boat out ,get myself some tampons and sanitary towels and will have a pamper night at home. I so look forward to that week long period every month where I get to wander around with a luxurious item in my pants .