The Hygienna Solo Disposable Bidet Top: Treat Your Butt To A Spray Today
Quite often we are contacted by bathroom-based product entrepreneurs who want us to review their products. In case you haven’t been able to tell, I love to review stuff. This is because I love getting things for free. Love it. Scented butt wipes? Sure! Stuff to spray on my toilet paper? Why not? Lemony goodness to spritz into the toilet bowl before I poop so the bathroom will not smell? That sounds awesome. (As you may suspect, I don’t get out much.)
This week’s product review required that I step out of my safety zone. It involved my using a product that never in a million years I thought I’d put anywhere near my butt or hoohoo—a spigot attachment to make plastic water bottles into portable bidets.
When I was contacted by the Hygienna Solo people, I was curious. I re-read the email, carefully, to make sure I understood what I was going to be sent. Yep. It says so right there: a bidet attachment for universal water bottles.
I received the Solo shortly after agreeing to write a review, and upon opening the package I did not know what to say. Inside was a little white envelope that opened at the long end, much like the manila ones that we old schoolers remember our pot coming in before cute little plastic bags hit the market en masse. I popped open the tab and a little blue nozzle made out of flimsy plastic landed in my hand. I wasted no time in asking the family for help. Thing One, my oldest child, has been dating the same girl for four years, and she has lived with us for the past three. I asked her, who we can call Girl, to help me review this product, and within a short while I found a twenty-ounce plastic water bottle sitting on the back of our toilet with a homemade label on it. “Poo Water,” it said. Alright. Whatever. And on top of the bottle was the new cap, as shown here:
Girl was the first person to use it: ”I had to be careful not to squirt water all over myself, but I got a bit wet anyways. I had to lean forward and use the front door approach. The angle of the thing is right-on, though, so once I got the hang of [squirting] it I was fine.” When I asked her how she felt afterward, she admitted that she noticed a difference: “I feel cleaner. I really do. Weird.”
Thing Two, my daughter, also used the Solo. She seemed to have a more dramatic encounter. “I picked this thing up and thought ‘why not,’ and I tried it. Oh my God. Water down there. What the hell. It was like having a garden hose in the bathroom.” I know. Not exactly Nobel Prize journalism, but those were her words. Again, I asked how she felt after using it. She also agreed that she felt cleaner.
Both of them claimed that the Solo was, for a lack of a better word, refreshing. I have to be honest; I was dubious of their claims. This meant that I had to try it, too.
(And if you’re wondering about hygiene, we soaked it in rubbing alcohol and rinsed it out in between users.)
Of note, the Solo takes getting used to if one is a regular toilet paper/wet wipe user. I didn’t know if I was supposed to use toilet paper first, or to just go on squirting myself first. I decided to forgo the toilet paper the first time, because I just peed. I must admit—I felt stupid. Water bottles are for drinking, not for lowering into a toilet bowl and aiming at one’s honey badger. Well, best get over it, I decided.
Once I figured out the right angle, I squeezed my universal, no-brand-name, thin-walled, twenty-ounce plastic water bottle, and a cool stream of water hit me. Well, huh. Not too bad. Definitely refreshing, I will say that.
After I had squirted what seemed like enough water on my nether regions, I pulled the bottle up and set it on the back of the toilet. Then I used toilet paper to dry myself off.
Here’s where it gets weird. I actually did feel cleaner. The water I used was room temperature, so I do not know if the fresh feeling came from lowering Spam Wallet Ground Zero’s temperature or because I was actually more clean. Regardless, I saw why there are many people in America and even more so in Europe and farther west who like bidets. If I had to compare the experience to anything that a non bidet-using, “average” American would understand, I would compare it to splashing cold water on one’s face and then drying off with a towel. And who knows: Maybe the physical and psychological response that we experience from washing our face, or hands even, apply to other body parts as well.
There is also the cultural differentiation to consider when reviewing a product such as this. I am not a bidet user, nor do I live in a culture that has embraced bidets as being a socially accepted bathroom norm. This does not mean that the product is weird, or stupid, or worthless, however. On the contrary; the Solo may be of great use in other cultures, especially if people from There are visiting Here. Just as someone from the U.S. may travel abroad with wet or baby wipes, someone from a country or region that uses bidets would most definitely travel with the Solo. They are affordable, recyclable, and small. The bottles that are to be used with them are (sadly) all available everywhere—grocery stores, convenience stores, hotel lobbies, school cafeterias, office buildings, etc. When one takes the time to consider the functionality of such a disposable, recyclable bidet, one must admit that the invention was inspired by a bit of crazy genius. And even though the price is a bit steep, considering that you can toss it out ($9.99), the Solo is re-usable and very easy to disinfect.
I do not know if the Solo is going to be well-received in the United State, but I believe that people who travel here from bidet-using countries would be thrilled to know that these exist. While I am not sure if I will ever purchase them, I give this product two brown thumbs us out of respect for other cultures and for the spanking-fresh feeling I’ve got in my underpants today.