Attention shoppers: All sales are final. Especially on the Freshettes.

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Women Outside, Fall 1998

The Wrong Stuff
Attention shoppers: All sales are final. Especially on the Freshettes.
By C.O.


GEAR: Equipment | ERRATA | Toys

Bikini Zone

Would Internet oglers be so captivated by the Lees’ home movies if Pamela’s tender inner thighs were chafed? It’s a rare and edgy partnership: the United States Lifesaving Association and Bikini Zone antirash cream. The cream preaches “never swim alone” on the package. The USLA, in turn, traded dignity for help spreading the word of safety. Two equally urgent lessons to take
from the tube: Lifeguards, good; unsightly skin, bad. If only this partnership could wipe out David Hasselhoff.


First offense: The name implies that breasts are exposed, sluggish reptiles in need of shelter. Second: These over-bulbous cups are about as realistic as that neighbor boy’s boobie act with Wiffle balls. Invented by Oklahoman Kathy Goff in 1996 — shortly after she suffered a collision of rack and racquetball — athletic departments have moved with a turtle’s haste to
make female cups standard issue. Which leaves plenty of surplus for cheerleaders, should anything attempt to touch their breasts. As if.


Were it up to the people at Sani-fem, creators of this plastic funnel-and-tube elimination device (plastic bag optional), women would be relieving themselves everywhere: on road trips and ski lifts, inside buses and canoes. We don’t encourage this kind of urinary abandon in men, so clearly the Freshette vision of a female tinkling utopia is flawed. Like the restrained
protagonist of Green Eggs and Ham, we would not, could not, on a …


This four-ounce wrist water bottle carries about as much liquid as a kiwi — and the American College of Sports Medicine recommends drinking at least 20 ounces for every hour of exercise. In other words, the dribble within is barely enough to wet the palate of Kate Moss between breakfast cigarettes. The HydroSport was inspired by a dehydration-induced fainting episode on
an L.A. sidewalk, and it is our fervent hope that this anticistern never goes anywhere more rugged.


Smith & Wesson addresses that pocketbook bummer: how to carry cosmetics and killing machines. As its Web site laments, “When you need it, it just may have your lipstick stuck through the trigger guard.” The sensitive gun maker woos would-be Nikitas with its custom case for the “LadySmith” (in script on the barrel). The easier, faster trigger lets us make the same mistake
the boys have made for ages.

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