Illustration by Marcelina Jagielka.

Menstrual pads. Organic tampons. Period panties. Cycle synching supplements. There is an endless barrage of products that promise to make that time of the month bearable. Over the past couple of years, the conversation around periods has drastically shifted to focus on destigmatisation and normalisation. Instead of shame or embarrassment, many activists have attempted to reclaim their menstrual cycle and even take pride in it.

Although I know that periods are a normal bodily function that should be openly discussed and portrayed without stigma, I take issue with the commodification and advertising accompanying the messages of these period activists. Nadya Okamoto, a popular TikTok creator with four million followers, shares videos of her proudly wearing menstrual products and putting pads into people’s bags at parties. One of her most popular videos is one where she’s on a bus to a music festival asking people if they need tampons. She has been unfairly criticised for her videos being “cringey” or “rude” by online trolls. I personally take issue with her content, and those like it, because it exemplifies the current trend of commodifying periods and their associated products. 

From what I see, Okamoto appears to be making these videos not only to normalise periods but also to promote her personal brand. Her company, August, sells menstrual products in the US with a focus on sustainability. Although I know that creating sustainable consumer goods is a good thing, the price tag on her products is way out of the average consumer’s budget. August’s flagship product is a period subscription box that retails for about $20 (USD) per month, which is much more than the average cost at your local pharmacy. This is an example of the pink tax.

The pink tax, an upcharge on consumer goods traditionally marketed to a female audience, has become a huge topic of discussion for feminists. This gender bias imposes an economic burden on women and adds up over the course of a lifetime, significantly to gender-based wealth inequality. Policymakers and activists are tackling this issue, with the United Nations calling on nations to reduce the pink tax. Despite these moves, traditionally feminine products are still noticeably more expensive than traditionally masculine products on the shelves. 

Although period products are not luxury items and are basic necessities, many people struggle to afford them. One in ten teenage girls reported that they have been unable to afford menstrual products, according to a 2017 survey by Plan International UK. For incarcerated or unhoused individuals, period products are often difficult to come by due to their price or availability. Furthermore, people all over the world are still facing extreme cultural and economic barriers to basic period products. Girls have been forced to miss school in low-income countries because they cannot afford menstrual products, or do not have access to safe or sanitary products. 

I believe that the conversation around period culture is shifting in the wrong direction; towards consumerism rather than accessibility for all menstruating individuals. Although it’s important to remove the taboo around discussing pads and tampons in public, I can’t help but notice the irony in Okamoto’s content. She films herself giving period products to people attending pool parties or music festivals with the message to destigmatise periods when these privileged individuals are the ones least likely to actually need these free products in the first place. 

There is some hope as there are other inspiring individuals that are focused on tackling the real issues of period poverty and social stigma. I admire the work of these activists who are doing meaningful and inspiring work to help all menstruating people across the world. For example, Lolo Cynthia, a Nigerian influencer, launched a No Day Off campaign to teach girls in Nigeria how to make their own reusable period products and raise awareness of the barriers that girls face in her country. 

Essentially, companies have exploited period activism and the frank conversations surrounding menstruation to sell more expensive – and often unnecessary – products. While I think that new products can be innovative, I’m tired of seeing shelves of period products with “aesthetic” packaging and unsubstantiated claims that perpetuates the pink tax with an unaffordable price tag. Okamoto’s brand, August, is not the only company that is selling pricey menstrual products with heavy advertising. Period pants have become popular, but a pair from FLUX will cost you £28.95. Compared to normal tampons or pads, organic items have been taking the market by storm but are quite a bit more expensive than the average brand. Although these products claim to offer health benefits and environmental benefits, there is no scientific proof that organic products are better than normal products.

Then there are brands and products that attempt to use shame to turn a profit. Last year, the brand Vagisil faced online backlash after introducing a line of “feminine washes” marketed towards teens with colourful packaging that promised to tackle “period funk” and offer an “intimate care glow-up.” Of course, Vagisil claims they are “shameless about intimate care” but medical professionals have continued to warn consumers that these products are actually damaging, and completely unnecessary, not to mention body-shaming toward people with vulvas. 

While the conversation around destigmatisation is undeniably important, period activism has been compromised by consumerism and over-the-top marketing. Until menstrual products are accessible, safe, and affordable for all, we will not be able to truly claim that we have reached the goals of liberating the conversation around periods and erasing the social stigma.