Ever since women authors and playwrights have made the vagina a topic for polite conversation, I have been puzzled by the astonishing implications. I call to your attention only one: The Continence aisles in your local supermarkets.
Before you snicker, hear me out. Me, just one of the many hapless husbands sent there to purchase one of the many, many, many varieties of pads. Excuse me if this sounds sexist, but in the nearby aisle for men’s prophylactics, there are simply two or three options. Basic and easy for basic and easy males to figure out.
However, nothing basic and simple in the Continence aisle. There it stands intimidating with choices like: Maxi…Mini…Regular…Long…Leak Block…Thermo Control…Dry Touch…. Ultimate…Infinite.
Okay, I made that last one up, but I’m betting it will be out any day now. In today’s glut of consumer choices, choice is the insane name of the game. Go ahead check the aisles with pain relievers… eye drops…and, of all things, a simple tube of toothpaste. [Quick merchandising secret ~ about the only thing different from one to the other is the labeling. Hello…!]
Which, when you come to think about it, also applies to the labeling for most of our recording artists, action heroes, pizzas and political candidates. With or without vagina’s.
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