I am Matt Thomas.

Adventures in Metrosexuality

June 24, 2004

Today, I attempted to use a product I’ve seen advertised numerous times, but never bothered to try to use—Crest Whitestrips. And not just any—these are the fancy “premium” ones that come in the plastic case. I decided to experience this phenomenon for two reasons. The first is that I smoke, and while my teeth are not exactly yellow, they are a bit too close for comfort to the color of my flesh. But the main reason is that my mother bought them for John, and after two days of walking past the unopened container, I decided that if he wouldn’t start improving his life with overpriced bleaching gel, then I would.

Crest Whitestrips Premium come in an attractive, hermetically sealed plastic case. After removing the seal, you find a disposable, yet high quality, mirror mounted on the inside of the case. This does increase the “ooh-ahh” factor of the product, but I couldn’t help but question the necessity for a mirror on a product that absolutely does not require being able to see yourself to use. Also, the package contains one week’s worth of strips, so I found it odd and somewhat wasteful that the packaging seemed more expensive than the actual product itself.

Application of the strips is somewhat troublesome. The part that you adhere to your teeth is just stamped out of a larger piece of gel-covered plastic, making it impossible to apply the strips without getting the gel all over one’s hands. This would not be problematic if the gel did not turn my fingers white and cause severe itching. Despite my discomfort with putting such a product in my mouth, I forged ahead. I learned from watching Queer Eye that a bit of pain must be endured to achieve beauty.

If applying the strips was troublesome, keeping them in my mouth proved to be nearly impossible. The consistency of the whitening gel is not unlike that of come. I suppose that I should be grateful that it was virtually odorless and tasteless, but I couldn’t get over the way the gel turned to foam after a few minutes in my mouth. However, there was a larger problem at play. Using this product has revealed the reality that I may salivate more than most other average adult males. In the regular course of my life this has never presented a problem, but after only about five minutes using the strips, the bottom strip had detached from my teeth and was floating in a pool of frothy saliva. I did not want to swallow the liquid because of its displeasing consistency and because of what it had done to my hands. I managed to walk to the bathroom and drool most of the liquid out, and then attempted to reattach the bottom strip to my teeth.

It was a lost cause. The gel that was no longer on the strip was not only responsible for the whitening process, but also integral to the proper application of the product. I left the top strip on for the last ten minutes of the process, and afterward I could see that the strips had indeed whitened my teeth. I knew this because my top teeth were clearly a shade whiter than the bottom teeth, which had obviously been in contact with the whitening gel for very little time.

So, while the product does seem to work, my superhuman salivary glands, along with my discomfort with the semen-like consistency of the whitening gel, prevent me from using this product. Unlike the commercials, my girlfriends at the local café will never remark, because of my beautiful smile, that I must have a new boyfriend. I will never be able to conquer my fear of commitment by successfully using a seven-day dental whitening solution. But I will be able to continue smoking, unencumbered by the nagging feeling that I’ll be tempted to buy another $30 box of Whitestrips once the nicotine has again discolored my teeth. My friends and future lovers will have to admire me because of my intellect and charm, and not because of my gorgeous, gleaming-white, perfect teeth.