The Diva Cup; An Honest, Semi-Uneducated Review

Be still my beating heart—they have invented a new way to torture my vagina: the Diva Cup.

Have you heard? Are you excited? Foaming at the vagina? Are you pushing through the crowds to go pick up this sweet new invention? Me neither.

For those of you sitting in the dark, let me enlighten you: the Diva Cup is a device that is inserted into your vagina while you are on your period. It collects your monthly gift and you can empty it out, rinse it, and use it again.

A self-labeled feminist on the internet claimed that women’s problems with devices like the Diva Cup are because we have been conditioned to think of our menstrual cycles as dirty and shameful.

Hey, lady, I don’t know what the fuck your period looks like but mine is pretty dirty. And I’m not ashamed of it–I just don’t want to have to stick my fingers all up in it. That doesn’t make me any less of a feminist. It doesn’t make me a prude or old fashioned. It makes me a woman with an opinion; something I thought us vaginas were all for.

Let me air my list of grievances with this product:

• On their website, the Diva Cup has a list of instructions for basic use. I am concerned by the phrase, “Please Note: This is a condensed version of the User Guide. Customers receive a full version with purchase of The DivaCup or you can download a PDF version here.” How complicated is this product that there are multiple versions of the instructions? And the condensed version of how to insert it may not be enough? Do you have to also attend a class? Get certified? Do they have instructors that come and show you how to properly use this complicated product?
• They make you choose a size. But it isn’t like a tampon size, based on menstrual flow. IT IS BASED ON THE SIZE OF YOUR VAGINA. Screw you, Diva Cup. Have I not had enough indignation and shame concerning the possible size of my vagina after childbirth? You now want me to actually check a box that says “gaping hole” versus “young and tight”? I hate you.

**OK, technically the choices are

Model 1:  Recommended for women under the age of 30 who have never delivered vaginally or by caesarean section.

Model 2:  Recommended for women age 30 and over and/or for women who have delivered vaginally or by caesarean section.

I am not a doctor but are they insinuating that as you get older your vagina gets bigger? What the heck is happening here.

More problems:

• You want me to predict how full the cup is? And then change it in a public restroom? Many of us don’t have the luxury of a private bathroom during the work week. So when I magically intuit that my bloody cup is nearing “full”, I have to go dump it out in the toilet and then rinse it in the sink? Isn’t that unsanitary for everyone else? And time consuming? Will my “Diva Cup Break” be built in to my schedule?
• The Diva Cup website suggests that you clean the “rim and holes” regularly, as it is of “vital importance”. Like I don’t have enough shit to keep clean in my house? You now want me to clean out my Diva Cup? Don’t worry, the website implies it is pretty simple: just soak it for a while and then scrub it with a soft toothbrush. I can just imagine myself now, sitting down with a glass of wine and a toothbrush, scrubbing the “debris” out of my Diva Cup. Fat chance. I would wear this thing once and then it would become one of those unfortunate objects that the kids choose to play with when company is over.
• It looks like a boob. ‘Nough said.
• The name. The Diva Cup? So putting the boob shaped silicone shot glass into my vagina is going to make me feel like a diva? For reals? That is the product’s promise? Whatever happened to honesty in marketing? The thing should be called “The Responsible Vagina” because if anything you are cutting down on waste and conserving resources. While this may not make you feel like a diva, it will at least make you feel like a conscientious woman.

In conclusion, the Diva Cup gets an A+ in entertainment value but I am going to stick to my dependable, if somewhat irresponsible, tampons. I may not be helping in terms of my eco-footprint, but I also won’t be leaving literal bloody footprints across the floors of public restrooms when I misinterpret the strength of Aunt Flo.