Dealing with tampons is gross.
(Have I completely lost you there? The bounce rate on this post is going to be monumental.)
(And it’s not going to get a whole lot better.)
(But honestly, suck it up, kind of. We’re all grownups here.)
It is, though. Anyone who’s used a tampon for its traditional purpose will tell you that sometimes, touching a tampon string is gross. I won’t go into it, but sometimes, as one might imagine, ew. I don’t care what the Moon Blessing crew says: Disposing of tampons is gross.
It’s kind of unavoidable for tampon users because, y’know, biology, and despite innovations in the nether-region-care industry, it remains a problem for many.
So if you’re really listening to the market, like we’re all supposed to, there’s only one thing to do: Address the problem head-on. Right? How much would you pay to never have to touch another tampon string? Would you pay, say, $14 for a 48-pack of miracle solutions?
The makers of the Pinky Glove certainly think you will.
The Big Idea
The Pinky Glove is an innovation by two German men who want to spare us the indignity of a tampon-string encounter. They’ve presented menstruaterkind with what’s basically a food-service glove, except pink and with a little adhesive thing across the bottom. That way, it’ll protect your fingers from the grossness and invert into a little sealable poo bag for easy disposal.
Problem: Changing tampons is gross. Solution: Create a product that comes between you and the tampon throughout the process.
If you’re not an inveterate tamponner, you might be thinking, “Well, that sounds neat.” If you’ve literally had tampons out the wazoo, you might be thinking other things.
But… but…
The German guys listened to their audience and found a solution to their problem. That’s good, right? It’s what we’re supposed to do? Why are people complaining? So very, very vehemently?
The lightbulb moment for the tampon removal glove came after the male founders spent time living with women, where they realised there was “no good solution when it comes to the disposal of tampons”. They said they made it their “mission to find a solution that makes life easier for all women” when they have their periods. They particularly wanted to create a “safe feeling” for women, and offer something that is “appealing and stylish”.
I just… I… I don’t…
No good solution for the disposal of tampons. I mean, except for the current process, which is about as streamlined as it can get. “Mobile app that teleports that sucker to the nearest trash can” is pretty much the next available evolution.
A solution that makes life easier for all women. It doesn’t make life easier for tampon-users. It doesn’t become less inconvenient or time-consuming. The process remains exactly the same. It just makes it marginally less gross.
Creating a safe feeling. Because handling a used tampon is somehow inherently threatening? “Oh, God, I’m wrapping my tampon in toilet paper and putting it in this little disposal bin right here, I’m going to die.”
Appealing and stylish. At what point is this glove going to enhance one’s sense of style? Are users meant to put it on before they go into the bathroom to wave to their coworkers and say, “Going to swap out my tamp. Sorry you’re jealous”? I won’t even allow myself to think about alternatives.
These, apparently, in the creators’ eyes, are a tampon-user’s priorities as they head to the loo to do the thing we’ve been talking about. During what I’m sure was their extensive market research, people were saying, “My biggest concern is safety, of course. But I’ll admit, I really want it to look cute.”
Because they did do further research, right? They didn’t have their eureka moment and go straight to market, right?
Right?
Thanks, I hate it.
As advertising professionals, we’re told to “listen to the market,” which is great BUT FAR FROM COMPREHENSIVE advice. It’s a matter of listening to them, and then continuing to listen to them, and then using the information you have to discern what they really want and need. And then continuing to listen, because at no point does feedback cease to become important. And actually take the feedback into consideration.
Even if it isn’t what you want to hear.
And this becomes twice as important when it’s a market you don’t have personal experience with.
We’ve seen this recently as brands have tried their hands at social justice. Brands listened to the market and its demands that the brands they follow take a position on issues like institutional racism, and they responded. Sometimes, they did it well. Other times, they whiffed (sometimes badly), because they declared, “One social justice, coming right up!” instead of continuing to listen to the market to determine what substantive involvement in social justice actually looks like.
The Pinky Glove dudes claim that their product was inspired by listening to their female roommates’ complaints about gross tampon removal. Did it stop there? After their first, n=2 foray into market research, did they keep going? Did they think that maybe, since they themselves had no personal experience in the matter, speaking to more tampon-users might be in order? Did they think that, since their product was designed for women, bringing some actual diversity onto their team might be in order? Or did they shout “To the rescue!” and head straight to the lab?
We have no way of knowing. We weren’t there. But chances are good there wasn’t follow-up asking why it’s unpleasant, and what would make it better, and what “better” would look like, and whether they’d be willing to spend $14 to perform the whole process exactly the same except with a plastic glove instead of TP.
The process of tampon removal takes ‘round about 15 seconds, and there’s no need to seal up the final product all neat and tidy because no person in the history of ever has felt the desire to put their used tampon in their purse to carry to the nearest trash can. (And if a person absolutely needs protection from grossness for that 15 seconds, they can pick up a couple years’ worth of food service gloves that will serve the same purpose, albeit not as stylishly. #PinkTax) Ask a person how much they’d pay to make that process less icky, and the answer will probably be, “What?”
But, I mean, ask a person.
The lesson
My intention here is not to totally dump on the German guys, whose biggest crime, realistically, is mansplaining periods to come up with a product that’s eye-rollingly pointless and thinking they’d discovered the next sliced bread. Even the fact that they got $36,000 IN VENTURE CAPITAL FROM SOMEONE WHO ALSO NEVER ASKED IF THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA is mostly just a tooth-grinder.
(No, for real, the guys went on the German equivalent of Shark Tank and got a dude on board for 30,000 euros. In 2019, 2.8% of funding went to women-led startups, and in 2020, 2.3% went to women-led startups, and about 12% of decision-makers at VC firms are women, but sure, dudes, make it rain for the pointless-pink-glove guys.)
Moreover, it’s a sin we’ve all committed at some point (or several points) — falling in love with our own concept, and clinging to it like a bad boyfriend even as people are telling you it’s a bad idea. Or even not seeking feedback at all, because you suspect it might be a bad idea. Maybe it gets to the CD before the concept is shot down, or all the way to the client, or all the way out into the world, which responds to your wishy-washy ‘gram with a reminder about the time you fired a model for speaking out about racism online. (Or where it gets torn apart for just being stupid. Whatever.)
But the Pinky Glove plight illustrates a lesson we all need to remember: You don’t even know how much you don’t know, and listening to your audience is crucial — and it’s the path, not a waypoint. (And that audience does include diverse members of your own team, whom you actually listen to and don’t just keep around for funsies, right?). Whether it’s pink food-service gloves or issues of social justice, never hit the road without first looking at the map.
To their credit, the Pinky Glove guys have acknowledged that they “have not dealt adequately and properly with the subject” and that they “[will] rethink [their] product and reflect on the entire history of its creation.” But how cool would it have been if they did all that before they went to market and got eviscerated online? The time for rethinking is actually before going to market. After that, it’s re-rethinking — which you also need to do anyway, whether or not Twitter’s resident gynecologist is tearing you a new… y’know.
Measure public opinion twice, cut once.
Sidenote: If you’re currently in the process of developing the Tampon Teleporter, however, shoot me an email, because that’s a ground floor I want in on.