In just a few short years, tooth whitening has moved from an expensive procedure available only to a privileged few in a dentist's office to an indulgence for the masses: Even toothpastes and chewing gum promise to make your smile shine like a movie star's.

A new entry to the market, the iWhite teeth-whitening kit, claims to be different. All whitening systems use some type of hydrogen peroxide gel to remove stains on your not-so-pearly whites.

But iWhite, distributed by Remedent Inc. of El Segendo, Calif., promised to use a "light technology" to speed up the whitening process.

Before I tested it, I visited my dentist Julia Dentice (no lie, that's her name) to get a "before" readout on my smile. Dr. Dentice put my tooth shade at an A-3, maybe an A-2, on the Vitapan Classical Shade Guide (basically not bad, but it probably wouldn't hurt to lay off the coffee). Having never heard of iWhite, and definitely skeptical, she wished me luck with a laugh.

The iWhite kit ($49.99, available at CVS, Costco and other places) comes with a white rubber mouthpiece/tray that slips onto a bluish white light source powered by a watch battery and 10 foam strips infused with some sort of sticky whitening liquid (five for the top teeth and five for the bottom).

About the size of an i-Pod Shuffle, the battery sticks out in front of the tray and powers a light that shines inside your mouth. It closely resembles those things they used to have people bite down on during electro-shock therapy. (Not that I'd know. Honest.)

To start the whitening process, insert a foam strip into the tray, stick it in your mouth, hold it in place for 20 minutes on the top and 20 minutes on the bottom, and pray that neither your children nor your spouse or significant other sees you sitting there with a glowing, pulsating blue grin, looking like a robotic buffoon.

I imagine no whitening trays are comfortable, but the iWhite system is particularly awkward. With the battery pack out front, you have to keep adjusting your bite to make sure that the tray doesn't slip off your teeth. You'll drool a lot, even though the directions warn against getting the gel in contact with skin or clothing. And don't swallow the nasty-tasting liquid.

As directed, for five consecutive evenings I sat in bed with an odd blue glow emanating from my kisser, waiting for my Julia Roberts smile to develop. My husband called me a "human night light"; I couldn't imagine it was strong enough to have any effect on my teeth. The theory behind light-activated tooth whitening is that the heat and light can improve the action of the hydrogen peroxide gel. But iWhite's little watch battery-powered model didn't seem to produce much of either.

Treatment finished, I went back to Dr. Dentice for the unveiling. "Maybe, maybe an A-2," she said, "but you were almost an A-2 before." That's four notches down from the brightest possible.

She recommended Crest Whitestrips, which she said do a surprisingly good job at whitening, or better yet an office visit, which would bring me up several shades all at once. Or I could simply wear a dark-colored lipstick or put some bronzing gel on my face, tricks commonly used by beauty experts.

The iWhite seems to be more of a gimmick than a technological breakthrough.

With easier and less humiliating alternatives, it's hard to recommend it, unless you want to end up as a walking Blue Light Special.