In partnership with quip.
I feel like I have the facts wrong here, but in the sixth grade, my social studies teacher had us practice the art of the filibuster. In what should 100 percent be a game show, we were organized into some sort of pre-teen team bracket and took turns talking, yes, for as long as we could. So what does this have to do with a toothbrush? (This post is in partnership with quip; I’m getting there.)
The winner of the filibuster game was a kid named Conor. He wasn’t as focused on running out hypothetical lawmaking clocks as he was on polishing a standup routine. He had us belly-laughing in our seats; we never knew a class could be so fun. And then he spoke the sentence that I’ve yet to forget, two entire decades later:
“His teeth were all…mayonnaise-y.”
The class lost it, Conor started laughing too and the filibuster was over. I was stuck frozen in my chair. Mayonnaise-y teeth? I slicked my tongue from one top-back molar to the other. I was overcome with the desire to brush them. From that moment on, I vowed to have absolutely perfect dental hygiene.
Of course that didn’t happen. My flossing habits come and go with the moon’s cycle; I’m not a very consistent mouthwash user; I drink coffee; I do love mayonnaise; and sometimes, on very rare — I swear! — occasions, if I’m too tired, I’ll skip the pre-bed tooth scrub and overcompensate in the morning. It is on my constant to-do list to be better about my dental hygiene.
That’s why, when I realized Man Repeller was partnering with quip for a story, I jumped high into the air to participate: Me me me! I would like a travel-friendly electric toothbrush in one or both limited edition metallic shades of mint green and pink, with its own oblong space helmet that protects the bristles as it hangs out in overnight kits and straw baskets!
The team conceded, and though this wasn’t a contest, you could say I was the victor. Two new limited edition electric toothbrushes were mine, one in pink, one in green, just like a…watermelon.
Coincidence? I think not. Not only is watermelon the unofficial fruit of summer, quip dentist Dr. Hariawala said that “athough eating watermelon doesn’t literally replace brushing and flossing, its fibrous nature and high water content can help in preventing tooth decay by washing away food particles.”
(Take that, everyone who just judged my “skip nights” above.)
And from there, the self-appointed Watermelon Diet was born!
– Dress like a watermelon as often as possible
– Embody a watermelon as often as possible
– Just try brushing my teeth with some watermelon to see what it’s like
– But also, bring my quip toothbrush with me everywhere and give my teeth a go after lunches
– Eat watermelon and watermelon-like things
– Become one with the one and only watermelon
Here’s what happened:
1. I dressed like a watermelon for one whole week.
At first, this was harder than expected. I took “dress like a watermelon” far too literally and tried on an outfit so awful it nearly caused me to quit: a single-shouldered green and white top — the rind — plus a red skirt with brown buttons — the “flesh” (sorry) and seeds. After reevaluating what it could possibly mean to “dress like a watermelon,” I reminded myself that inspiration does not have to mean exact approximations.
The results of round two’s soul-search-y style consultation:
– I remembered how much I like bubblegum pink and palm tree green together.
– A light pink nightgown that I haven’t had the guts to wear outside finally saw the light of day.
– I figured out the outfit-math equation for a giant pair of watermelon-colored earrings I’ve been longing to wear (add a green and white striped button-down!).
– And I busted out a winter-forgotten polka dot top because it reminded me of watermelon seeds. (You’ll see that later if you keep scrolling.)
2. I embodied a watermelon as often as possible.
Thanks to the outfits listed above, the only other thing I had to do was prioritize hydration and occasionally hang out with feta.
Sunglasses with pink lenses also helped. They gave me that watermelon-tinted-glasses outlook on life.
Oh, and I carried around a mini watermelon. It takes one to know one, I figured.
3. I tried brushing my teeth with watermelon to see what it was like.
This was hard and weird, and I do not recommend it! Neither does quip, it turns out. (You can subscribe to receive actual toothpaste every three months for 5 bucks a pop, along with the brush heads — also $5.) Eating watermelon is far more fun and brushing your teeth “the normal way” far more effective — especially because I started toting my quip around just in case of photo opportunities, which meant I was encouraged to brush my teeth mid-day far more often than has ever happened.
4. Speaking of: I brought my quip toothbrush everywhere and gave my teeth a go after lunches.
Glad I did this one, given that I’m trying to be better about my dental hygiene and the watermelon-as-toothbrush thing didn’t totally work. The fact that the quip toothbrush was watermelon-colored not only made my teeth feel sparkly fresh after tricky salads (it has a two-minute timer that lets you know to keep on keepin’ on and when to stop), it satiated my unquenchable watermelon itch. Also, speaking of itch, vibrating toothbrushes make pretty handy backscratchers.*
*Like using watermelon instead of proper tooth-brushing, quip does not recommend the back-scratch thing, either.
5. I ate watermelon and watermelon-like things.
You don’t have to tempt me with a good time. I ate so much watermelon, I can’t even tell you. But also, I ate watermelon-colored sorbet, watermelon and avocado (sounds weird, but it’s really good), drank watermelon juice and snacked on loads of watermelon radish. Watermelon radish rules and is also a lot of fun to play with.
6. I became one with the one and only watermelon.
Our resident makeup expert, Imani, suggested I do watermelon makeup for the watermelon diet. She selected the shades so I couldn’t mess it up and then fool-proofed the instructions. The look was not for me, aesthetically speaking, but do you see that look I’m giving my new best friend, the watermelon? It’s one of camaraderie. And a bit of flirtation.
So where do we go from here, given that the watermelon diet isn’t a diet after all but rather a lifestyle, and that I am now a fully committed loyalist? Besides the fact that I want you to know my dental hygiene is far superior than it was even a week ago thanks to quip, I would also like to declare that, at 1115 words, I believe I just won the filibuster.
Get your own quip here and show me your smiles in the comments below!
Feature photo by Heidi’s Bridge.