What Women Know about Toilet Paper
The backside is only the beginning
My second week into social distancing, and I have begun to use washcloths instead of toilet paper. Honestly, it’s not too bad. I’ve found surprising benefits, and I might even continue after the threat of the COVID-19 virus subsides.
I’m not out of toilet paper — yet — but not a single roll can be found anywhere in town, so I’ve decided it’s time to ration what I have left. Since, like most women, I urinate seven or eight times a day (probably more since I’m a tea drinker), I go through a lot of TP just drying off. A washcloth does the trick just as well, actually even better than toilet paper.
Oh, wait — bet you thought I meant the other use of toilet paper, didn’t you? That’s what most media coverage of toilet paper alternatives have been covering. That’s why the sale of bidet attachments are way up. But that’s the default male bias in operation again. Why should men worry about wiping after urination? For most of them, it’s just a matter of shake and go.[1] But for most females, using TP for #1 happens way more frequently than for #2. (Some prefer to drip dry. Their choice. No judgment.)
Then there’s another of toilet paper that rarely occurs to men. Women who are menstruating use a great deal of toilet paper cleansing themselves and disposing of feminine hygiene products. We don’t see that discussed on morning news shows, but it’s a reality for many women.
But just do a quick search of alternatives to toilet paper, and it’s all about wiping poo. I understand. It’s a messy job with potential health risks. Everybody wants to talk about what people did before toilet paper was invented. For most of us, leaves, rocks, sticks, seashells, and corn cobs aren’t available. Neither is a Sears catalog. I don’t even have a print newspaper subscription; they’re all digital for me.
For most of human existence, women just squatted and drip dried. It usually involves exposing quite a bit of skin to the open air, and clothes complicate the procedure. In Victorian times, when women wore full skirts (often with hoops) and layers of clothing, it was not unusual to just spread the out the skirt and go. A semi-crotchless panty enabled this process, but I imagine there was quite a bit of spraying and sprinkling. The perfume industry was big back then.
We’ve all had to do it, whether we were out in nature or using a public restroom that was out of paper. Some of us carry tissues in our purses for that eventuality. But there are reasonable alternatives, some of which have been used for years by environmentalists.
Family cloths, as they are sometime called, are usually squares of flannel or other soft cloth, though some are rolled up to fit on the toilet paper dispenser. You can make your own out of old t-shirts or buy them online ready-made.
Proponents of the cloths say they save trees and reduce the strain on sewers and septic systems. I grew up with a septic system and can tell you from experience that toilet paper is its nemesis. My mom used to urge us to count out six squares of toilet paper only. She’d have jumped at the possibility of family cloths.
There is some debate about whether reusable cloths are hygienic in the long run, but laundering them like cloth diapers should alleviate lingering contaminants.
In my case, I’ve chosen terry washcloths since I already have a stash of thin, cheap ones that I bought just in case (of what, I’m not sure). I put a stack of washcloths on one side of the toilet and a basket lined with a hand towel on the other side. They’re soft enough and seem to absorb faster and more completely than toilet paper, and there’s no risk of breakage or leakage on the fingers. Most importantly, I’ve reserved their use only for pee breaks, conserving the toilet paper or more serious matters.
News stories keep saying there is no shortage of toilet paper and we should just be patient for the supply chain system to catch up. I have no reason to doubt that, but no one knows how long it will take, and whether I will happen to be at the right store at the right time, especially since I’m limiting shopping trips to the absolutely essential. In times of uncertainty, it’s wise to make adjustments.
A shortage of toilet paper affects most women in a way that doesn’t even occur to men. But drying after urination involves just a pat, and there are easy, viable alternatives.
[1] It’s true, some men prefer using a square or two of toilet paper to dab. Others who have medical and personal reasons will sit to urinate. Some trans men sit, also, though others use devices that enable them to stand.
