The Sixth Day of Dicksmas: Omigo Bidet

And now for something completely different.

It’s Christmas today, a day for food and family. It’s also the sixth day of Dicksmas, because Dicksmas does not follow the rules of any calendar. For this, Christmas day, the sixth day of Dicksmas, I wanted to review a not-dick: the Omigo Bidet. My Omigo Bidet review has nothing at all to do with sex, but the Omigo is a high-tech tool designed to make private activities much more successful. In that way, it’s dick-adjacent, and it’s definitely close enough to my brand that I’m excited to be reviewing it today.

Background Info

Warning: there’s a bit of TMI in this post, but nothing overtly gross. If you’ve been reading this blog, you are probably used to TMI.

I have been wanting to try a bidet for years. I know that most of the world uses them, and America is one of the few places that hasn’t caught on to this modern technology. It just seems logical: water cleans you better than paper. If paper were preferable, we’d never need to shower; we’d just wipe ourselves down every day.

Eventually, I was having some physical discomforts that took me to a proctologist, who found nothing wrong with me, but recommended a bidet for my sensitive skin. (It turns out the problem is more internal, and has to do with my hypertonic pelvic floor irritating my pudendal nerve… but I didn’t learn this until very recently.) I started researching bidets and contacting companies about reviewing them. Bidets aren’t far from my brand. You folks reading this tend to be into gear and gadgets designed to make your life better, and it’s very likely you’ve never tried a bidet. Omigo gave me a sweet deal on a bidet, which I happily purchased to review.

Out of the Box

The Omigo comes in a giant bright blue box. It doesn’t say exactly what’s in it, but it’s not hiding it, either. Which is great! Nobody should be ashamed of having a bidet.

Omigo box, which says "the future always seems weird at first" in white letters on a blue background

My husband installed this while I wasn’t home, but he took some pics. He said it was pretty straightforward. Here are all its fancy parts laid out for inspection.

Bidet parts

The company provides written instructions and a video. One little note is that it requires power quite close to the source, and until we get a high-capacity extension cord, we were stuck running the cord up in front of the tank. You can spot that in the next pics.

Here’s what it looks like on the toilet itself.

It replaces the whole seat and lid, so now our toilet looks like something fancy out of the Jetsons. It also has a blue nightlight, but we turned that off because it was so bright it was keeping us awake even with the bathroom door mostly closed.

The seat is tilted forward, so you sit upright, leaning slightly forward. This took a bit of getting used to.

The remote control is pictured here, still in its cradle. I left the pic giant so you could read it.

Bidet remote control

We haven’t found a good place to put the cradle yet, but the remote stays in it by magnets.

And It Begins: Using the Bidet

This was my first time using a bidet. I gave it a test run before actually needing it, so to speak. As soon as I sat down, the bidet dinged its happiness that I was present and seated. (We turned off all sounds very quickly.) It runs some water in the bowl at that point to keep anything from sticking. Also, the seat is warm. It stays warm all the time, which is my husband’s favorite feature.

The remote has a preprogrammed “Let’s Go” function, which will start a medium wash and then a dry feature, but I wanted to program my own settings. (You can indeed adjust things mid-stream, but I started from scratch.) To manually control, I hit the “back” button at the very top of the remote, which was not labeled “anus” even that’s what they mean by it.

Nothing happened. That’s normal, though. The nozzle extends and runs some water over itself so you don’t get sprayed with sitting hose-water. This takes about 20 seconds, and then it gives you a gentle “warning” spray, so you can feel where it’s about to hit before you get powerwashed.

It took me some finagling to get the spray where I wanted it. I had to scoot way far back, and extend the nozzle all the way forward (it has seven settings), since apparently my anus is farther forward than normal people’s. (Who knew?) Then, I could adjust the spray width, pressure, and temperature. There are three settings for each. Also, you can set the nozzle to move back and forth and get the whole area.

The spray runs for two minutes, and then it shuts off automatically. At first two minutes seemed like a really long time. Now I’m used to it. If you want, you can stop it early with the “stop” button, but I recommend you give it the full cycle.

You can save your preferred settings through a few keystrokes, so I saved myself as User 1 and then tried the “front” wash setting. That’s supposed to be for my vagina and urethra, I suppose. It’s useful if you’re bleeding everywhere from a period, I bet, but I’m not a bleeder anymore thanks to my Mirena IUD. I now tend to just use the back setting and use TP for the front.

The “dry” setting was next, but it didn’t take me long to realize this sad air dryer wasn’t going to accomplish much at all. Instead, I blot with TP after.

How’s It Compare?

The first few times using the bidet, I didn’t get totally clean. I checked, of course, and was quite disgruntled. But after some experimenting, I learned I need a narrower spray width and a higher pressure. Essentially, I need to powerwash my anus. When I do that, it’s totally clean afterward. As an added benefit, I don’t have any of the residual discomfort that one can have sometimes from wiping too much. It doesn’t hurt, by the way, even on powerwash.

Also, that full two minutes is generally necessary. No short-changing it.

Other features of the bidet are the sterilize function, which sterilizes the nozzles, and the deodorize function. The deodorize function sucks the air out of the bowl through a filter so it doesn’t stink. It actually works pretty well.

Cheers and Caveats

Cheers for bidets in general. As someone who frequently experiences gastrointestinal distress, water instead of paper has been a game-changer. I’m going to list a lot of cheers and caveats, but this is the biggest of all. It’s soothing on my skin and I feel clean afterward. Pooping has never been so pleasant.

Cheers for hilarious marketing. The Omigo people produce really funny ads and embrace the way Americans would see bidets are “weird.” They capitalize on weird.

Caveat: The need for a plug next to the toilet is going to be a pain for many people. You’re either running a high-power extension cord or you’re hiring an electrician.

Cheers for being fairly easy to install, at least according to my husband.

Cheers for a perpetually warm seat. You can change the seat warmth level, too.

Caveat: the nightlight is either always on or always off. I want an option with a motion sensor so it turns on when I enter the bathroom but doesn’t stay on all the time like a blue-beamed lighthouse. We have it on silent and eco mode now, so it doesn’t beep and it doesn’t light up. It’s a little sad, but it’s better than 2am glory hallelujah in the bathroom.

Cheers for a lot of personalization options: nozzle location, water pressure, water temperature, stream width, seat warmth, etc. There’s something for everyone!

Cheers: with a high-end model like this, there’s a water preheater, so it’s never gonna spray you with cold water. The water is as warm as you want it.

Caveat: the air dryer is not gonna get you dry. It’s like one of those bad air dryers in the public restroom. Even if you shake your hands a lot and rub them together, you’re still gonna wipe the water off on your pants afterward. You can’t really shake your ass off or rub it together, so… if you don’t use a little TP, you’re gonna end up wiping this water off on your pants afterward, too.

Unexpected cheers for how much cleaner my toilet stays. With all the water movement, and with the initial pre-poo spray of water in the bowl, the toilet stays way more pristine than it used to.

Caveat: the opening to the seat is really small on our round toilet. I know it’s better on elongated toilets. My husband says if he doesn’t sit all the way toward the back, his balls hit the front seat, and he’s not a fan of that.

Cheers for toilet memory: my husband and I could both program in our favorite settings, and it remembers. Related caveat: it never seems to remember my water pressure, even when I reset it. It still always seems to reset my water pressure to low. I’ll look into this more in the future, because it might be me being stupid.

Caveat: there are no lights on the remote control. If you have to shit in the dark, you’re gonna need some muscle memory to find the right buttons afterward, or turn the lights in the bathroom on (which no one wants). Please, Omigo, make a remote that lights up, or at least give some physical indicators on the buttons themselves to make them easier to tell apart.

Caveat: it’s pricey. The Omigo will run you $750, although they frequently run sales to save you tons off that price. At the time of this posting, it’s 40% off! IMO, it’s worth saving up for, even at full price.

Final Thoughts

I love the Omigo. It has made my bathroom visits way more pleasant. It’s not a cheap device, but it’s also going to be something you use every day, and I think that’s worth the investment. While I haven’t fully converted all my friends and family yet, I think they’ll come around eventually. If you’ve been on the fence about a bidet, get off the fence and invest. You won’t regret it. Get with the program, fellow Americans! The rest of the world understands. We need a bidet revolution, and it starts with all of you.

I purchased this Omigo bidet at a discount.

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