Flow

When was the last time you talked openly about your period without lowering your voice? In Flow: The Cultural Story of Menstruation, authors Elissa Stein and Susan Kim take a witty yet deeply researched look at this universal experience that remains oddly taboo. They argue that menstruation isn’t merely a biological process—it’s a cultural lens reflecting how society perceives women’s bodies, power, and purity. Through history, religion, medicine, advertising, and politics, the authors reveal how menstruation has been simultaneously exploited, misunderstood, and shamed.

Stein and Kim merge humor, scholarship, and cultural critique to explain how a natural bodily rhythm became a profit center for pharmaceutical companies and a site of patriarchal control. They show how silence and euphemism have shaped not only how women perceive their own bodies but also how those bodies are regulated. From ancient menstrual taboos to modern marketing slogans like “Have a happy period,” Flow reveals the strange journey of how something so ordinary became loaded with myth and meaning.

A Cultural and Commercial Evolution

The book opens by challenging the assumption that menstruation is now openly discussed. The authors point to the paradox you’ve seen yourself: tampons are advertised constantly on TV, yet menstrual blood is never shown, always replaced by sterile blue liquid. This sanitized imagery mirrors a long-standing discomfort with female bodily processes. In exposing how language evolved—full of euphemisms like “the curse,” “Aunt Flo,” and “that time of the month”—Stein and Kim argue that this coded communication perpetuates shame while masking genuine knowledge about health.

They trace how corporate interests took over the menstrual narrative during the 20th century. What began as a hygienic convenience industry quickly became a multibillion-dollar marketing machine selling control, cleanliness, and secrecy. Today’s “feminine hygiene” aisle, they note, reflects a century of cultural anxiety and capitalist ingenuity.

Why We Bleed, and Why It Matters

At its heart, Flow wants you to understand menstruation as a vital physiological rhythm—not an inconvenience to be erased with pills or hidden behind perfumed pads. Stein and Kim explain how little modern medicine truly understands about menstruation’s evolutionary purpose. They recount how ancient superstition, from Pliny the Elder’s belief that menstrual blood could kill crops to biblical notions of impurity, created centuries of female stigmatization. Even as science advanced, these myths persisted, woven into both religious doctrine and medical practice.

The book argues that this ongoing ignorance affects how women experience their own biology and how society sets behavioral expectations around it—from assumptions about mood and professionalism to debates about leadership and emotion (a theme also explored by Naomi Wolf in The Beauty Myth).

From Hysteria to Hormonal Control

Stein and Kim detail how menstruation became pathologized in medicine and psychology. They revisit the early 20th-century theories of hysteria and the way hormones became modern medicine’s new frontier of control. You’ll learn how pharmaceutical companies reframed menstruation as a defect that could be managed—first by the Pill and later by drugs designed to “suppress” periods altogether. The book exposes how menstrual suppression is marketed as liberation even as it deepens pharmaceutical dependency and medicalizes normal female experiences.

The authors question what’s lost when the natural cycle is silenced: emotional insight, bodily awareness, and connection to cyclical health. They liken this erasure to what sociologist Barbara Ehrenreich called “the medicalization of normal life.”

Why the Conversation Still Matters

In closing, Stein and Kim remind readers that menstruation isn’t simply about blood or biology—it’s about visibility, equality, and self-knowledge. By exploring advertising, religion, folk beliefs, and even pop culture (from Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret to tampon commercials), they expose how cultural discomfort with menstruation seeps into every corner of life. They challenge readers to reclaim the narrative—whether by talking about it openly, making informed choices about menstrual products, or teaching the next generation differently.

“Armed with information and insight, maybe we can even bring up the subject in polite company without dying of mortification.”

Ultimately, Flow presents menstruation as a social mirror—a way to understand how a culture views women’s bodies. Through humor and historical detail, Stein and Kim reveal that controlling the menstrual narrative has been a way to control women themselves. To question that story, they insist, is to reclaim agency over your body and your narrative. That’s what makes this book both history and manual for modern self-awareness.

Stein and Kim begin by dissecting how our language creates menstrual silence. Even though menstrual products are everywhere, society’s conversation about menstruation is still cloaked in embarrassment. You probably know the euphemisms: ‘on the rag,’ ‘Aunt Flo,’ ‘visit from the red planet.’ The authors reveal these aren’t just jokes—they’re symptoms of cultural unease. They argue that euphemisms function as linguistic armor, allowing both men and women to talk around rather than about menstruation.

Euphemisms as Cultural Mirrors

The authors catalog euphemisms from around the globe—French women say 'Les Anglais sont arrivés,’ Brazilians say ‘Estou com Chico,’ and in Denmark it’s ‘Communists in the Funhouse.’ Across languages and decades, menstruation is described in ways that disguise its reality. Comparing this to Simone de Beauvoir’s idea in The Second Sex that women are defined as “the other,” Stein and Kim suggest that menstrual code words keep women’s physical experiences cast in mystery and moral distance.

The Power of Advertising Language

Advertising amplifies the linguistic problem. The industry uses bloodless terms like “feminine hygiene,” “sanitary protection,” or “freshness” that subtly reinforce the idea that menstruation is dirty. Have you seen an ad showing real blood? The authors point out you’ve seen horror movies with gallons of fake gore, but never a drop of menstrual fluid. Even in 1985, when Courteney Cox became the first actress to say “period” on TV, the response was outrage. This suppression shapes cultural etiquette: menstruation is acceptable only as a marketing niche, not as a normal human topic.

From Joke to Judgment

Stein and Kim insist that this euphemistic culture traps women in a double bind. When they joke about PMS or cramps, they appear weak or hormonal; when they stay silent, they help maintain the taboo. Serious discussion of menstrual health—like dioxin in tampons or reproductive toxicity—remains avoided even among friends. The authors invite you to try an experiment: bring up menstruation at a dinner party. Observe the frozen smiles and forced laughter, and you will see centuries of inherited discomfort at work. The lesson is clear: language doesn’t just describe anatomy—it defines respect, or lack of it.

In one of the book’s most revealing chapters, Stein and Kim explore how modern medicine transformed menstruation from a natural cycle into a marketable condition. They call this the “medicalization” of everyday biology—when life experiences are reclassified as diseases to be treated. They trace how pharmaceutical companies leveraged birth control research to sell not only contraception but control over menstruation itself.

The Rise of Menstrual Suppression

The authors focus on menstrual suppression drugs like Seasonale, Lybrel, and Yaz, marketed as ways to skip or eliminate your period. The irony? These drugs aren’t novel—they’re simply birth control pills repackaged for a new message: freedom through suppression. Companies celebrated the possibility of having only four periods a year (or none at all), claiming women felt more “effective” without bleeding. But the studies were minuscule—one included only 300 women—and the long-term effects largely unknown. The authors expose how the FDA’s approval process relied heavily on data sponsored by the same companies profiting from sales.

Doctors as Marketers

Stein and Kim unveil the intimate connection between doctors and drug manufacturers. Citing medical sociologist critiques similar to Marcia Angell’s The Truth About the Drug Companies, they show that pharmaceutical companies courted “thought leaders” with lavish conferences and speaking fees. Books like Is Menstruation Obsolete? by Elsimar Coutinho—a scientist tied to Depo-Provera—argued menstruation was biologically unnecessary, conveniently aligning with his product’s profits. The result? A $1.7 billion market built on selling relief from a problem medicine helped define.

Cost of Control

The authors caution that suppressing menstruation could have unpredictable physiological and environmental consequences. Synthetic hormones excreted in waste have been linked to animal reproductive deformities, like male fish producing eggs. Meanwhile, women lose one of their body’s natural health signals—pain, irregularity, or flow changes that can indicate illness. By pathologizing menstruation, society encourages you to see your body as defective, requiring constant pharmaceutical mediation. Stein and Kim ask a haunting question: if you could turn off your period forever, what part of female identity would you silence along with it?

From ancient scripture to modern ritual, Stein and Kim chart how religion constructed menstruation as moral contamination. They recount how Leviticus declared menstruating women “unclean,” forbidding contact and worship for seven days. The Qur’an repeated similar restrictions, and Hindu texts mandated isolation and ritual cleansing. Across centuries and continents, menstruation became a theological proof of women’s fallibility and danger.

The Curse That Never Was

The phrase “the curse” supposedly stems from Eve’s punishment in Genesis—but Stein and Kim point out that menstruation never appears in the biblical curse itself. Yet this falsehood persists, shaping moral disdain for women’s bodies. They note that Orthodox Jewish men still recite a prayer thanking God for not making them women, and that women must immerse in a mikvah after being “separated” for two weeks each month. The practical result: sex timed to maximize fertility, which suits patriarchal lineage as much as theology.

Myths of Pollution and Cleansing

Ancient myths blamed menstrual sex for cosmic disasters. In Hindu stories, the god Vishnu impregnates Earth during her period, spawning monsters; Romans said Vulcan was deformed because his mother conceived him while menstruating. Religion used such tales to justify control, creating rituals of purification—animal sacrifices, baths, ablutions—that framed women as perpetually dirty. The authors connect these myths to modern marketing’s obsession with “freshness” and deodorant wipes, showing how old taboos reemerge as consumer advice.

Reclaiming the Sacred

Not all faith traditions viewed menstruation as defilement. Buddhism, for example, often treated it as neutral; Pope Gregory I in 601 CE even wrote that menstruating women should not be barred from church. The book reminds you that reclaiming faith and bodily acceptance aren’t mutually exclusive. Modern Jewish women, for instance, are redefining the mikvah as a meditation on renewal rather than guilt. Similarly, Tantric traditions elevate menstrual blood as sacred energy. Stein and Kim conclude that understanding these religious roots allows women today to separate spiritual worth from biological function.

Few industries reveal culture’s contradictions as vividly as menstrual product advertising. Stein and Kim trace a century of marketing strategies designed to profit from fear and shame. Starting with Kotex in the 1920s, brands taught women that blood was a crisis requiring professional control. Ads warned that odor or visible pads could doom your social standing or marriage.

Marketing Secrecy and Shame

Early ads promised protection and invisibility—“No one can tell.” Purchasing Kotex involved slipping money into a discreet box so you wouldn’t have to say “sanitary napkin” aloud. Mid-century campaigns like Modess’s glamorous “Because” series transformed menstruation into luxury fashion imagery: silk gowns, pearls, and mystery. The message? Be pure and beautiful, but never functional. Later, the 1980s brought “freedom” rhetoric that suggested women could only succeed by managing their cycles like good employees. Even slogans like Always’s “Have a happy period” continue the tradition of cheerful concealment.

Terror as Sales Strategy

Throughout history, the marketing of menstrual products thrived on fear—of smelling bad, leaking, or losing love. The authors reproduce lurid examples: 1950s Lysol ads warning wives that vaginal odor would ‘lock them out from marriage,’ and douche products promising to “banish doubt.” Today’s more polished language still plays the same psychological notes, telling you that your natural scent or body function must be fixed. Stein and Kim argue that consumer dependence has replaced religious guilt with commercial anxiety.

Resisting the Consumer Trap

Stein and Kim end this section by pointing toward new alternatives—reusable menstrual cups, cloth pads, and eco-friendly products—but note how even “green” branding can prey on guilt. The deeper freedom, they suggest, lies in rejecting the belief that menstruation is a problem needing rescue. By tracing how fear turned into a sales pitch, Flow helps you see beyond the aisles of “feminine care” and recognize them as the marketing monuments to cultural discomfort they are.

The book’s chapter on hysteria is one of its most fascinating. Stein and Kim expose the absurd medical theories that shaped women’s treatment—from the wandering womb of ancient Greece to the vibrator’s invention as a therapeutic device. Doctors once diagnosed hysteria for symptoms as broad as headaches, nerves, or sadness, prescribing orgasm by “medical massage.” By the 19th century, mechanical vibrators—marketed under names like the Moon Massage—became standard clinic tools long before electric toasters.

The Hysteria Legacy

The authors trace how hysteria evolved from witchcraft accusations to Freudian psychiatry. Freud reframed female distress as neurotic conflict rather than demon possession—but his theories still blamed women’s repression or “penis envy.” Victorian social norms kept women physically constrained (corsets caused prolapsed uteruses) and emotionally stifled, ensuring their illnesses reflected social suffocation more than biology. When the American Psychiatric Association officially dropped hysteria in 1952, its symptoms resurfaced almost immediately as PMS, now with hormonal branding instead of demonic possession.

PMS: Repackaging the Same Story

Stein and Kim highlight how PMS pathologized women’s moods while normalizing men’s. Studies claiming “uncontrollable female irritability” mirrored old stereotypes. Despite being defined as a specific syndrome, PMS encompasses 150 symptoms—essentially anything from fatigue to anger. The authors quote medical experts admitting there is no biological test for PMS. Like hysteria, it became a convenient label for discomfort with women’s variability. Pharmaceutical responses like Sarafem (a rebranded Prozac in pastel pills) show that the cultural cure for female mood remains chemical obedience.

In showing how hysteria morphed into PMS and PMDD, Flow argues that each generation invents new scientific-sounding ways to domesticate emotional expression. Yet the underlying message never wavers: menstruating women are unstable, unfit, or in need of correction. Recognizing this myth cycle lets you see PMS as cultural shorthand, not scientific truth.

After moving through centuries of stigma, Stein and Kim invite readers to imagine menstruation free from shame. They highlight modern shifts—menstrual art, eco-products, Red Tent celebrations, and educational activism—that challenge the old narrative. To the authors, reclaiming menstruation means seeing it as connection, not contamination.

Menstruation as Identity and Power

Menarche, they note, marks a major life transition, yet Western culture offers no true rite of passage beyond an awkward talk and a box of pads. In contrast, many indigenous and Eastern cultures historically honored menarche through ritual or celebration. Today’s ‘red parties,’ feminist zines, and online movements like Tampaction and Blood Sisters revive that communal acknowledgment. By treating menstruation as sacred rather than secret, they encourage young women to embrace rather than endure their cycles.

Body Literacy and Ecological Awareness

Stein and Kim also stress education and sustainability. Reusable menstrual cups or cloth pads aren’t just cost-effective—they’re forms of bodily literacy and ecological responsibility. Understanding your own cycle can also reveal health insights that pharmaceutical shortcuts conceal. Reconnection, not removal, becomes the real empowerment. They quote activist groups who say that “talking about the blood” changes how you inhabit your body and community.

A New Conversation

Ultimately, Flow offers a blueprint for cultural repair: embrace menstruation as a normal bodily rhythm rather than a moral, medical, or marketing issue. When women openly share experiences—through conversation, education, or art—the power of taboo dissolves. That shift, the authors argue, leads to broader liberation: if society can talk about menstruation without flinching, it can talk about womanhood without fear.