Scotland was the first country in the world to mandate the free provision of period products, and so it was a most fitting place for the second annual conference of the United Kingdom’s Menstruation Research Network, which met on May 26 at the University of St Andrews.
And Provincetown’s Jay Critchley was a most fitting keynote speaker.
The day was a kind of miracle of wonderfully unlikely things coming successfully together. First, the weather: a glorious warm spring day. I took the train from Edinburgh over the Firth of Forth, through the Kingdom of Fife, and up the coast to St Andrews, home of Scotland’s first university, established in 1410.
Fifty women delegates from all over the world — lawyers, doctors, sociologists, artists, and historians — gathered to talk all things menstrual, with a focus on sustainability and ecologically sound period products. Which is to say: reusable. I arrived in time to take part in the Menstrual Mambo: “Internal! External! Disposable! Reusable!”
There was an impressive array of presentations on everything from social media, eco-shaming, period products in Zimbabwe, and menstruation poverty in refugee camps to education, law, menstruation at school, and menstrual materialities in contemporary art. It was both joyful and moving to be with a group of women so devoted to destigmatizing and addressing these issues.
I got to handle the beautiful little hand-sewn tampons one delegate had brought with instructions on how to sew them yourself. The best part was they were made from the highly absorbent 100-percent red wool used to make the traditional St Andrews University gown, designed in 1672 and fairly recently worn by the next king and queen of England while they were falling in love here.
And speaking of queens, the conference finale was to be a procession to Castle Sands Beach beneath the 12th-century castle, led by Lady Tampon Liberty herself — the persona that Critchley created 38 years ago as an activist art project. Before the Lady appeared, Jay gave an overview of his career, in which art, politics, environmentalism, and spirituality have come together in powerful, subversive, and hilarious ways.
His works are born of his Irish Catholic all-singing, all-praying childhood and his unwavering commitment to a politics of the heart. During the AIDS crisis, he birthed the Goddess of Immaculate Protection, to whom prayers were offered: “Oh, Luscious Lady of Latex, restore the precious immune system of Earth! Shield us!” Under his wacky genius divinity, condoms and the rainforest come together for healing. “We shouldn’t be concerned with national security so much as natural security!” he cried.
His organization TACKI (Tampon Applicator Creative Klubs International) has gone to state legislatures to fight the fossil-fuel industry and the production of plastic waste, and it has “harvested” hundreds of plastic tampon applicators washed up on Cape Cod shores.
He ended his talk with this question: “Have we lost our desire for eternity?” Then he went upstairs to transform himself into Lady Tampon Liberty while the rest of us did the Menstrual Mambo.
Fifty women gazed upward as the Lady descended the wide staircase in her 1985 gown, with solar headdress and torch, all made from plastic tampon applicators. She was a glorious sight and a fabulous final statement of the need for sustainable menstrual products and an end to plastic waste. How could we not follow wherever she led?
As we made our procession through the town, the tampon applicators jingled gently in a plasticated sort of way and shone in the late sun (an unspoken and appropriate tribute to Tina Turner, may her soul rest in eternal peace and glittered fringe).
On the beach, the Lady delivered an interactive liturgy in fine style. Everyone joined in and seemed delighted and kind of blessed at this unique coming together to celebrate and care for all that the hidden and long-stigmatized leaky, blood-dripping portal of life really means.
Carey Morning is an American living in Edinburgh, Scotland, where she is a psychotherapist, writer, and painter.
