Outfit Post: Patricia Field and Kotex want to celebrate your magical lady bits

Earlier this month, U by Kotex launched a collaborative contest with costume designer Patricia Field, inviting people to redesign the maxi pad. "Girls have choices in all aspects of their lives, so why should they settle for boring and institutional feminine care products?" said the company in a statement. For every design submitted, Kotex will donate $1 to Girls For A Change—a non-profit organization empowering girls to create and lead social change within their communities. According to Ad Age, contest winners will work with Field to design new and wild maxi pads, and attend Fashion Week in New York City in September.

Confession: Other than the word panties, my least-favorite word in the English language is vagina. I don't know why - I have one, so therefore shouldn't I be comfortable with the word for it? My issues with the vagina probably have to do with the general discomfort I have regarding my body, femininity and related sexuality. Thankfully, I do realize that I'm far from the only person on this planet with issues regarding the word vagina, which probably explains why there are so many alternatives to it, raunchy as they might be.

It might also explain why commercials and print advertising for products related to female anatomy, and that time of the month, are so archaic. Traditional ads are rich in mysterious ecstasy - women in flouncy skirts, twirling in fields or riding carefree on bicycles; clusters of attractive, young women bonding over their brand of tampon. It's absurd, especially considering that ads describing erectile dysfunction are shown during the five o'clock news. If we can talk so openly and frankly about the penis, why can't we do so about the va-jayjay?

Menstruation has always been marketed as a very personal thing, a magical moment when a woman's uterus whispers sweet nothings captured by a special, pillowy product. (My uterus has never whispered anything to me. It yells and then shanks me with a rusty blade.) Or so the average period-products commercial would have you believe. Which is why I just about lost it after seeing Kotex's newest ad campaign. The first ads were meta-parodies of traditional campaigns for female products, similar to those hilarious Old Spice ads. The more recent ones, which rely on hidden camera, man-on-the-street encounters, indicate that there is plenty of cultural taboo and awkwardness regarding lady bits. In one, a girl stands outside a drugstore and asks random guys to buy tampons for her. In another clip, a guy shops for tampons for his girlfriend, eliciting the all-too-apt response, "It's a man's world" (this time in reference to cardboard applicators.)

Kotex Rorschach test
Lady bits; hole; hoo-hah; down-there...anything but vagina.

Kotex man on the street
(IS SHE TALL?!? Love it. Get that man a cigar.)

As Adweek columnist Barbara Lippert writes with reference to the campaign,

"It's interesting that in our hyper-sexualized, girls-gone-wild culture, where characters on sitcoms like Two and a Half Men joke about "nailing" women and commercials airing during the family hour regularly mention four-hour erections, there's still one backwater of weird prudery: the subject of menstruation and the vaginal healthcare that goes with it.

Who knew that you could talk about vaginas and be funny and not insulting? Now we need even more honesty and directness. Women's bodies and sexuality do not have to be embarrassing or *hidden.* (Or talked about in titillating, colloquial terms for the benefit of men.) Though Kotex is surely motivated by a desire to sell more products, I really like that they're encouraging women like me to become more comfortable with their bodies, especially the magical lady parts. Yay vagina!

What do you think of the Patricia Field and Kotex collaboration? Would pretty pads and honest talk about the vagina help you feel more comfortable about your body, and about that time of the month? Would you consider purchasing Patricia Field's redesigned pads? And am I the only one with issues about the vagina?

Forever 21 lace jacket; thrifted Ann Taylor chambray shirt; thrifted Old Navy striped tee; thrifted Talbots skirt; Miz Mooz wedges; Forever 21 rhinestone bracelet and earrings

Outfit Post: My name is Elissa, and I am a changing room rageaholic

There are so many things that are great about shopping. Inhaling the sweet scent of leather in in the Fossil store? Great. Finding the perfect pair of wedges that make your feet simultaneously comfortable and stylish? Happy happy joy joy. Lounging at the MAC counter chatting with all the adorbz make-up artists in an attempt to figure out how on God's green earth one is supposed to wear Lady Gaga's lipstick which, I'm sorry, looks like foundation, and why would one make the CHOICE to slather foundation on their LIPS? That too is so, so great (if slightly mystifying. Apparently we are supposed to line our lips in magenta or fuchsia lip liner as an "interesting contrast." I have no desire to look like Krusty the Clown, so no thanx.)

There is one little itty bitty thing that I do not like about shopping. And that's trying things on. Just the thought of taking my clothes off makes me shake my tiny ineffectual fists into the air and shout WHY GOD, WHY????? I am not the most thoughtful person when planning a shopping excursion. I do not engage in sensible tactics like wearing dresses and other articles that are easily slip-off-able. No. I am the girl in a tank layered under a button-down which is layered under a cardigan that's layered over oppressively skinny jeans that are off course paired with tall boots and knee-high socks. I am that girl. Which, as a style blogger and fashion writer, is redonk.

I wear this suit of armor as a psychological tactic. See, I hate being nekkid, and I REALLY hate being nekkid in a dressing room. It's too small, and the lighting is horrid, and I am convinced trick funhouse mirrors are involved, and the door never seems to lock securely if there's a door at all, because sometimes there's just a filmy curtain separating me from the general public and I'm naked and what if some intrusive dressing room lady tries to come in and "help" and OM GOD BLOODTHIRSTY BARGAIN SHOPPING ZOMBIES COULD ATTACK ME AND HAVE I MENTIONED THAT I'M NAKED??? So I wear lots and lots of clothes as a way of psyching myself out of trying things on. See? I is a smart. Or not. Because inevitably when I get home and do try everything on I find that only 14% of what I purchased actually fits. Which means I have to go back to the store, and return stuff. /fail

So I was all together unsurprised when I learned from a survey that many women experience something called "changing room rage," wherein store fitting rooms leave them frustrated and cranky. You don't say.

Sky News reports that a survey found 48% of respondents felt frustration in fitting rooms, while 58% suffered disappointment. Half said they tried on clothes at home to avoid the problem, while 75% said they avoided trying them on at all. All of these are apparently symptoms of "changing room rage" or CRR, which can allegedly "lead to shoppers snapping at retail assistants, storming out of stores and even losing self-confidence."

It should be noted that this survey was conducted on behalf of isme.com, an online clothing company, so it seems obvious that they have a vested interest in attracting customers who do not like shopping in stores. And, call me crazy, but I don't see how it's possible that half the women tried clothes on at home, while three-quarters avoided trying on clothes AT ALL. That is the definition of a WTF, if you ask me. 

But still. Is it really that much of a shock that women hate dressing rooms? You wait in line for a long time to enter a tiny enclosed space with bad lighting, where you try on clothes that probably don't fit (either due to sizing inconsistency, or the narrow range of sizes many stores carry.) It's as if you have stepped into a dark netherworld dungeon where torture in the form of ill-fitting pants awaits you.

Personally, I found this survey kind of comforting, and a wave of solidarity washed over me after realizing I AM NOT ALONE. We rage-aholics really need to unite. Much like the suffragettes before us, we should be marching in picket lines, only this time demanding flattering lighting and comfy leather chairs for our friends to recline while we change and doors, doors that shut tightly and extend to the floor so no one can see our feet, and as long as we're asking for stuff a glass of chardonnay would be lovely too thanks for offering.

How do you feel about dressing rooms, and trying on before buying? Do you typically purchase things without trying them on first? Do you shop online as a way of avoiding stores and dressing rooms?

Forever 21 peasant blouse; Gap Outlet cargos; Mis Mooz wedges; thrifted vintage Coach satchel; Plato's Closet braided leather cuff; Dolly Python stamped leather cuff; World Market catholic saints bracelet; geode bracelet