Bulky toothbrushes an uneasy fit at sink

By Annie Groer
Washington Post

The classic Oral-B brush with a straight, plastic handle — which she has used faithfully for decades and which slips so neatly into her holder — has been shoved off store shelves by bulkier brushes sporting what Bowman calls "big, fat, rubber handles."

Her brush of choice was "getting a little harder to find, and suddenly they are gone. Usually, I would agonize whether I would get lavender or aquamarine. Not anymore. Whenever I see them, I buy them all. Right now I have five left."

She first noticed the trend several years back when daughter Katie Michaels, now 20, brought home a "Humvee-size toothbrush that made her feel like she was doing a better job of cleaning her teeth."

It would not fit in the holder under the family medicine chest. So they put it in a cup, only to find that "the toothbrush goop that accumulates in the bottom becomes a primordial soup that could give birth to new life forms." Eventually, a big-handled brush belonging to a beau — who prefers not to append his name to discussions of oral hygiene — joined the sink-side clutter.

"It's like when Coke changed," laments Bowman, 56, a folklorist who studies cultural traditions. "I never thought Oral-B would betray me."

Clearly, one woman's problem is another's progress. Bigger proved to be better for consumers because the molded handles are easier to grip, says Michele Szynal, communications director for Oral-B, which calls itself the world's largest toothbrush producer.

"We found out they weren't that comfortable using most brushes with square, flat handles that were digging into your palm. At the time, everyone was making everything ergonomic. You might think there is a lot of over-designing in this brush, but the longer you hold it, the better, because you should be brushing your teeth for two minutes, twice a day," says Szynal. "This brush was designed so you would brush your teeth longer."

Despite anecdotal evidence from Bowman and others that the slimmer models seem to have vanished, Szynal says they remain top sellers for Oral-B. "If you are not that oral-care involved, and you are going down the aisle and you see one for $3.99 and one for $1.99, you will buy the less expensive one," she explains about the slender models. Moreover, dentists often give them to patients.

Oral-B's 1998 launch of Cross Action, the industry's first wide-handled model, grew out of extensive, expensive market research involving 4,000 consumers and 600 dental professionals.

However, Oral-B customer service reps were soon fielding calls from consumers seeking a place to park the big brushes, so in 1999, the company offered a Cross Action stand. "But soon people figured out they could use a cup," says Szynal.

Say hello to the law of unintended consequences, muses Henry Petroski, a Duke University engineering professor and author of "Small Things Considered: Why There Is No Perfect Design," which examines the impact of everyday objects on our lives.

Petroski uses a Cross Action. "I like the feel of it." So his wife found "this little stainless steel corrugated thing that sits on the counter that may have been intended as a soap dish." In another bathroom, his toothbrush rests in a glass. "We all redesign our environments," he says. "People are very creative."

That creativity has not been lost on the housewares industry.

At upcoming trade shows this month and next, Croscill Inc. in New York, maker of decorative housewares, will unveil a line of holders for even the largest toothbrushes. Hip home furnishings designer Jonathan Adler has made them in lacquerware and ceramic, expected in stores by August.

In 1998, French design guru Philippe Starck solved the storage problem by creating Dr. Kiss, a sleek, eight-inch plastic brush that fit smartly, head down, into its own matching container. It was made by the Italian design innovator Alessi, which quit producing the holder last year.

But Starck is still at it. For the Icon condo complex now going up in Miami's happening South Beach, his interior design packages include a tall, stainless steel toothbrush cup that hangs on a matching wall hook.

But will that gleaming silver cup prove large enough for a passel of Paddy Bowman's elusive Oral-B's or similar substitutes? Indeed, she has just learned about Prevent Care Products Inc. in Point Pleasant, N.J., which sells "slim-handled Improve toothbrushes often distributed by dentists. My friends order them a dozen at a time. And I'm about to start."