‘You’re brave’.

It’s been said before – notably when I published my memoir, Dangerous Love, describing a relationship I had with a psychopathic murderer 25 years ago when I was a naïve undergraduate.

And yes, that was quite ‘brave’, in the sense that writing it involved some heavy-duty soul-searching and forced me to be pretty revealing about myself.

So I don’t view talking about sanitary protection as quite so daring  . . . however, when I told my friends that I was going to be discussing the Mooncup in my workshop at York’s Green Festival (held last Sunday, 6 September in Rowntree Park), that was the overwhelming reaction.

So – strike 1 for uttering the words ‘menstrual fluid’ in a public place (I did warn all the men first; most of them beat a hasty retreat from the workshop tent but one stayed and said he found it very informative).

And strike 2 for raffling said item – or rather, a voucher to claim one (thank you, Mooncup) – besides brandishing an actual Mooncup for people to see for themselves.

Before you utter a resounding ‘euuw’, I should add that this was a pristine, never-used, demonstration-only Mooncup supplied by the company. A lovely lady called Jenny won it and she promised to let me know how she got on with it. (She also bought my other book, Confessions of an Eco-Shopper – thank you, Jenny!)

Another lady won the sample pack of ‘Moonrabbits’, which I was tempted to pull out of a hat, given their fluffy-bunny name, but didn’t (I was using the hat for the raffle tickets – waddya think I am, a magician?).

Moonrabbits – they’re a brand of washable, reusable menstrual pads, not relatives of The Clangers – are a great alternative to disposable pads. They will save you a fortune and they will save on landfill, too. You can buy many different types of pads (most of which seem to have lunar-related names), but these are made by another lovely lady who lives in Scotland (thank you, Lucy).

Reusable washable pads generally have to be purchased online (unless you buy from cloth nappy distributors, such as Lollipop, which makes their own brand) but the Mooncup is now available in larger branches of Boots the Chemist, as well as wholefood stores and online. Other makes of menstrual cup are also available.

I use a Mooncup and Moonrabbits and I’m a total convert. Hence this blog entry – look, I know the idea of it all can be a bit yucky but trust me, they're a revelation. Once you've tried them, you won't go back. I find the Mooncup incredibly liberating, so much so that the only problem is remembering that you’re wearing it.

I have to admit, I did have reservations before I started. The first time I used a Mooncup I was due to go on a fairly strenuous bike ride. I didn’t anticipate this being a happy combination but it turned out to be no problem at all. Three days later I was at a party boogie-ing to Shakira (in a white dress, ladies). Not quite the classic rollerskating-in-hot pants tampon ad, but none the less I’d say it gave it a pretty definitive workout.

There’s a fuller description of this particular eco-challenge (and many more) in Confessions of an Eco-Shopper: the true story of one woman’s mission to go green (published by Hodder – available on Amazon if you can’t find it in a bookshop).

Be brave, girls. Give it a go. And spread the word.