Happy Friday — we’re back with more Hot Bones after a week of see-it-to-believe-it green in backyards, front stoops, and median strips all over Cville. Every year I forget how bright the color green can get. Turns out, really green.

Last edition was all about nature as Advil. This week we’re rolling into a classic HB experiment to see if sustainable dental care is a thing worth flossing for.

Five years ago, we were in lockdown and I was realizing I could probably cancel that upcoming dentist appointment I’d been dreading. And two years ago, I was driving home from an entire afternoon spent horizontally in a dentist chair. 

Covid absolutely sucked for so many reasons, but it was a real blessing in disguise for avoiding scary dental cleanings and having to shake people’s hands. I rode that train to the end of the line, and then I tacked on another year dentist-free by dogging monthly scheduling phone calls. But eventually it was time to be a grownup and let licensed professionals stick their hands in my mouth. And hell hath no fury like a dentist scorned.  

“So it’s been a while since we’ve seen you,” the dental hygienist said as I did that slithering back thing to get into the exhibitionist chair. 

I’m sure I muttered something about covid and germs. The one time during a dentist visit where I wished my mouth was unable to talk. Listen, dental care is important but does it have to involve dental care?

She nodded and then listed about 15 procedures that we should probably do today to make up for lost time. Routine cleaning, fluoride treatment, expert flossing, pick-axe excavation, subterranean shale drilling, jack hammering directly into the jaw, just normal things today. Maybe some full-mouth x-rays. And a light teeth whitening at the end.

I guess I nodded assent?

The team (multiple people by this point) asked me if I wanted to watch anything, and I searched for whatever tournament was on the Tennis Channel. Then they put those orange sunglasses on me and proceeded to absolutely destroy my mouth. 

Two entire tennis matches happened while I sat in that chair. Multiple employees left for the day. And still I sat, retractors and cotton swabs my only friends. Drool everywhere.

Halfway through the teeth whitening I called it quits and started pulling devices out of my mouth. 

“I promised to come back every year! I promise! Just let me go home please,” I yelled. But my mouth was so dry that I could only emit the haunting coo of a lonesome dove. 

I drank a dixie cup of water and said, “I will pay one million dollars to leave right now.” 

And the dentist said, “great none of this is covered by insurance so that’s about right.”

The end of this story is that I finally escaped and drove the 30 minutes home in complete silence, hands at ten and two, swearing that I will forevermore practice preventative maintenance. When I got out of the car, so much saliva had pooled up in my swollen mouth that I basically threw up in our entry flower box. Which G witnessed from the front window, wondering where the hell I’d been for the past 5 hours.

Don’t need to say much more about that. Dentist, scary - but dentist, good. 

The only problem here is that the oral care industry overall is pretty wasteful. For example, if we followed the American Dental Association guidance to replace our toothbrushes every 3 months, that would lead to 1 billion plastic toothbrushes tossed in the trash every year. Even accounting for people like Past Me who changed toothbrushes once a pandemic, that number would still be huge at half a billion. 

Now that we’re on the negative stats rollercoaster: 

The good news is there are solutions to these issues! Highly recommend this Outside article for a holistic guide to sustainable oral care. I’m just going to tackle the gnarliest part in this edition: flossing.

Watching someone floss is like accidentally walking in while someone’s taking off tight pants — awkward, uncomfortable, so much twisting and scrunching.

Luckily, this is a newsletter not a video so I’ll just describe what it was like to floss with a few sustainable options. No gifs this week 🙏 

Meet your contestants for this special Hot Bones experiment:

💰 Price: $2.79 at Harris Teeter

👍 Pros: Because these are flossers not just floss, you don’t have to fit your knuckles in your mouth. Unfortunately, flossers also have way more plastic involved, most of which ends up in landfills.

👎 Cons: I typically try to avoid blasting brands on main, but Grin is straight up dubious. These flossers are “made with recycled plastic” but there’s no mention of what percentage is recycled. “Earth lovin’” as their only sustainability claim is 😬 Plus, their website has pretty much nothing helpful on it about their sustainable practices. If you’re looking for an example of greenwashing to boost sales, this is it!

💰 Price: $6.99 at Refill Renew, also at Grove Collaborative online 

👍 Pros: Great after eating arugula. Wider floss gets “stuff” without pulverizing your gums. Love the reusable container that has a satisfying click. 

👎 Cons: Floss itself is made out of recycled water bottles, so not entirely plastic-free, but it’s also coated in vegan wax and cocoa butter and free of harmful PFAS.

💰 Price: $3.75 at Refill Renew (and Grove)

👍 Pros: Great after eating popcorn. Thinner string really ensures your flossing ROI. Made out of silk not plastic, so none of those toxins. Plus, it’s biodegradable and compostable.

👎 Cons: Personal thing here, but the packaging actually turns into the dispenser (you just lift up the front flap), so whatever and whoever has handled the floss box before you is now in your medicine cabinet. Some people will think this is cool. Germaphobes may not.

Who wins the experiment? Anyone but Grin as far as I’m concerned. Can’t help but think I’m also a winner here, because I’ve now officially met my flossing quota for calendar year 2025.

Thanks for reading this week’s Hot Bones. If you’ve got thoughts, just hit reply. I’d love to hear from you.

🦴 Charlotte