This all started when Brent Douglas, CEO of Puro Lotion, found Zachariah Ezekiel’s 2000 article You’ve Gotta Hand it to Alternative Hygiene, and thought we here at Get Lost Magazine might like to review his company’s new sanitary product. Finding reviewers among our regular contributors was harder than I thought. It went like this:
Hello, McBee? Yeah, it’s me, your editor. I’ve got a new product for you to test.
No, no, nothing like that. No, you can’t use it for home taxidermy. Someone sent us a new toilet hygiene product. It’s a lotion you apply with toilet paper after you go to the bathroom.
Yes, I’m serious. I’m reading it right off the bottle. I want you to write a product review. It’s called Puro Lotion.
What do you mean, you’re busy? You’re never busy. You pick up dead snakes in the road and write lengthy articles about how you shouldn’t pick up dead snakes in the road. This, my friend, means you’re not too busy to write a review.
Yes, of course there’s a reward in it for you. Free Puro Lotion. The manufacturer sent three bottles. I’d like a thousand words, a summary and maybe some photos –
No, not as in “action photos.”
[McBee hangs up.]
McBee? McBee? Bastard. See if I’m too busy next time you submit a volume about roadkill.
So I have to do this review myself. I’m an anything-for-science kinda girl, not a poet wringing lurid mileage out of words like “assessment” and “analysis.” For inspiration on acceptable copywriting language for a product one applies to one’s anus, I started with the Puro Lotion website which is chock-full of forthright phrases like “anal itching,” “amount used per bathroom visit,” and “texturized to grab excess remnants.” (I’m shuddering right now about what kind of keywords to assign to this article, and if a random Google search brought you here… welcome!) Have a look at the page that discusses spices and your anus. Okay, don’t. But it’s there for you on those long dark evenings when there’s nothing on tv to watch, your irritable bowel is kicking up, and you’ve just had chili.
Claims on their comparison page were a starting point. The only comparison they made was Puro Lotion applied with toilet paper, and wet wipes. They didn’t compare the product to the full spectrum of TP alternatives, like a hand full of tree leaves, Sears catalog pages (avoid the slick pages, according to my mom), or one of those high tech Japanese toilets. Understandably, their comparison leaned heavily in favor of their product.
Assuming one has an actual necessity or proclivity toward advanced mopping up after defecation, the wet-wipes versus Puro and TP comparison looks like this:
WET WIPES:
- Easier and faster to use. You only need to carry and deploy one product, and take one pass at it.
- Flat packet easy to carry in a (large) pocket. You don’t need to find or carry supplementary TP to use with it.
- Florid packaging color easy to see in backpack.
- Can be used to wipe off hands.
- Residual evaporates.
This is a bit of a sidebar note, but in the Amazon.com description of
Wet Ones Singles Antibacterial Cleansing Wipes, Fresh Scent, 144-Count Pouch, it says in small print, “This item is not for sale in Catalina Island.” If you’d like to leave speculation or a punch line in the comments below, feel free.
PURO + TP:
- Packaging smaller and has no obtrusive colorful graphics on it. In fact, you can order the product in a “cloaked” bottle in any size, without the product label on it. I think this is unusually gracious of the manufacturer.
- There is no tell-tale odor to the lotion announcing its freshness, disinfectant qualities, or skin-conditioning ingredients. In other words, there is nothing to tip off those washroom bullies who would taunt you about your sissified bum.
- Lotion effect can be nice if you’re having… um… problems.
- Puro Lotion can be used on other parts of the body. I found it to be a light hand cream with no residue.
- A third of the price per use. (My calcs differ from theirs; I only use one wet wipe per “visit.”) A bottle lasts much longer than a packet of wet wipes.
- Flushability is more predictable with familiar TP and a smattering of lotion. I’ve never been convinced that the robust and large wet wipes are flushable. My socks are flushable. Doesn’t mean I’m going to do it.
- Unlikely to be confused for furniture polish wipes. Don’t ask me how I know this.
EXPERIMENTAL FINDINGS PROS:
- In my experience with the product, deployed with the eight-ply quilted luxury toilet paper at my mom’s house (not like the cheap single ply I usually have) it’s odorless, refreshing, and it cleans well.
- The small bottle is carry-on size 2.5 oz.
EXPERIMENTAL FINDINGS CONS:
- The flip cap on my sample didn’t flip. The product is thick enough that the hole in the flip cap is inadequate. (Let’s please not make anything of that.) Unscrewing the cap and dispensing a bit worked well.
- You have to use 2-3x more toilet paper than usual: you wipe, then apply some Puro with more TP and remove it with yet more TP. A 15-sheet pocket pack of tissue lasts only 5 go-rounds. Roll TP disappears so fast you’ll wonder if a cat visits when you’re gone.
CONCLUSIONS:
If you have any condition that would cause you to wipe your bum frequently or with a material that would cause irritation, Puro lotion is a good product for home use as well as travel. It cleaned nicely with a moisturizing and healing effect without leaving a lotion-y trace behind, pardon the pun. It’s less convenient than packets of wet wipes for travel, and requires the use of more toilet paper, but for home use and for those who need a bit more protection for fragile skin, Puro delivers cleanliness and some protection in a reasonably portable form.
