Oh, for crying out loud! There are lots of things I don’t want to talk about, like the oil stain on the driveway and my nearly empty checking account, but this commercial takes the upside-down cake.
The first few times I saw this commercial, Mother Nature said, “I don’t see any liners,” and the giddy vacationers scoffed, “Liners?” After a week or two, the commercial replaced liners with backup. Maybe I’m seeing this commercial on different networks with different policies about cooties and icky physiological goo and wacky wahinis. In other commercials, Sarah Chalke solves her wedgie problems with architecturally interesting undergarments on every channel that values a frivolous femme, meaning we’re not above discussing the fact that women – you know – wear those, and Heaven forbid we avoid having the “Detrol discussion” with our physicians and international symbols or skip pads to keep our Poise. So what the fuck is wrong with us that we can’t bear to talk about goddamn pantyliners?