Back in April of aught nine, I wrote perhaps my most acclaimed review (my mom alleges she showed it to two of her co-workers who upon reading it said I should write for a sitcom) about Cottonelle Fresh, a moist adult wipe so refreshing, it transformed each act of defecation into a cause for celebration.
While my love for said product hasn’t cooled in the 17 months since that review was posted, my interest in sampling similar products to see how they compared never faded. So when my pretend ex-fiance informed me she was paying a visit stateside from her royal palace in London, she brought for me a present which she claimed to be a quality British companion to my beloved Cottonelle Fresh.
The product is Sainsbury’s Super Soft Moist Toilet Tissue. So, after polishing off a Digornio Pizza For One, I was ready to hit the town. Here’s how they stacked up.
While I went into the experience of using these “loo rolls” with as open a mind as possible, I’d be lying if I didn’t say right off hand that a suggestion presented by the product itself didn’t make me nervous. Right on the back, it the Sainsbury corporation informs its clientele to “Use wipes after regular toilet tissue.”
Using toilet paper after a monster dump is just about as uncomfortable an experience as there is on earth. It’s dry and clumpy and while it doesn’t necessarily make a bigger mess, it does spread things around without making them significantly better. Cottonelle has always been up to the task when dealing with that crucial first motion (the “lift and separate” motion) and it disappointed me Sainsbury didn’t believe their product to be up to the task.
Then I opened to see where their reservations were coming from:
That’s the Cottonelle on the left, towering over its Redcoat competition. It quickly became clear that a comparison of the two is ultimately unfair, and to be fair I had to bury my desire to stack the two products up against each other. And taken on its own, Super Soft has noticeable pros and cons.
Now I’m sure there are various purchasable containers, but the package I was given was no good (no offense, Sara the thought remains a lovely one) and because of this problem, the product suffered.
Mine came in a “refill pack,” which is a plastic bag with a hole in the top. The flaw with this design is it’s hard to get a consistent flow of wipes at your disposal. You have to dig around to find an opening, and odds are if you get one, several more will follow directly behind. And as difficult as they are go get out, an even more daunting task is getting them back in (and to any potential wise-asses out there, no, that is not at all what she said).
The re-entered wipes tend to get crammed against the side of the package, causing an excess moisture buildup, leading to a wipe that is too wet for its own good. Then, of course, you are forced to go back to work and attempt to talk to strangers, all the while acting like it doesn’t feel as if two tadpoles are fornicating inside your ass. Seriously, if there’s a situation more difficult to work through than a bout of sphincteral perspiration, it is a situation I am happy to say I am yet to encounter.
However, there is a sliver lining. While the packaging makes consistency a problem, the un-clumped form of Super Soft isn’t bad. Now, does it stack up to Cottonelle Fresh? I’m afraid not, as it’s still gooier and less powerful and doesn’t feel as if you’ve received a lovely smooch from the wonderful, if not thoroughly unenviable analingus angel.
But, I’ll admit that while I didn’t get the spring in my step I did my first go-around with Fresh, it did do a relatively good job of cleaning me up. And even if it is too moist, it still easily trumps the prickly cactus effect TP leaves after a dreaded internal explosion.
While I’ve had some success in switching a few friends and family members over to the adult wipe way of life, the universal switch I was hoping to have occurred by now still seems to be years off, which I think has a lot to do with people’s general discomfort with open, defacatory discussion.
A bigger concern though is certain people being so fearful of the future they are willing to slice up their own anus with a razor, photograph it, and post it on the internet circulating rumors of a non-existent Cottonelle Rash (yes, I’m talking to you Joanna who posted such a comment on July 16 at 8:35; fuck you and your rabble-rousing pals). Is Sainsbury’s Super Soft Moist Toilet Tissue good enough to believe these people could ever be silenced? The answer to that I’m afraid is no.
However, it is at least a step up from that archaic, 1,500 year-old rolable cheese grater so many people still blindly insist on clinging to. And even though I’m sticking with Cottonelle, assuming I can decipher an effective wipe removal tactic, these are good and compact enough to fill the important role of workplace, post-lunch damage control.
Final Score: 7/10