Author: Kate Sloan

Review: Tracy’s Dog Craybit

Kate Sloan

My relationship with the sex toy company Tracy’s Dog didn’t exactly start off on the right foot. Er, the right paw.

They’ve sent me a bunch of pitch emails over the years, often containing weird glaring missteps, like accidentally addressing me as Emmeline (she was my roommate at the Woodhull conference once, but we’re not the same person!) and – in the most recent case – kiiinda plagiarizing my own writing back at me.

I got an email from Tracy’s Dog a while ago about their new rabbit vibe, the Craybit (so called because its strange tagline is “Let’s get crazy a little bit”). This toy’s claim to fame is that it has three motors: one to target the clit, one to target the G-spot, and one to target one of my very favorite erogenous zones, the A-spot. “You might be familiar with the G-Spot stimulation from toys and fingering, but have you ever experienced A-Spot orgasm?” their email asked. (Uh, yes, I have been known to.) “The feeling of hitting A-Spot is totally different from G-Spot [sic]. It is a more intense, molten-hot, addictive sensation that melts your soul and your body!”

That phrasing gave me déja vu, so I googled it, and… the only instance online of the phrase “molten-hot, addictive” is in an article I wrote for Glamour about the A-spot. Guess this company liked the piece. 😂

While this is aggravating, it also made me reflect on how this points to the little-known-ness of the A-spot. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen someone crib language from my own writing on this topic when extolling the virtues of the A-spot – especially since, aside from a few other sex writers I know such as Zoe Ligon and Cy of Super Smash Cache (both of whom are excellent), not many people go into detail about this spot on a regular basis.

The only reason I can think of for this linguistic borrowing is that the companies’ copywriters haven’t experienced A-spot pleasure themselves. If they had, they would be able to write about it in their own words. And while part of that is due to the simple fact that not everyone likes A-spot stim (just as not everyone likes G-spot or prostate stim), another part of it is due to how seldom the A-spot is discussed and explained compared to erogenous zones whose names show up more often on Cosmopolitan and Men’s Health covers.

All this to say, it’s always a thrill for me to see new toys being developed and released that specifically mention the A-spot in their marketing copy (ideally in the companies’ own words). It means that not only is the desire for A-spot stimulation being affirmed – it’s being actively catered to. Hooray!

The Craybit rabbit comes in an elegant black cardboard gift box with the company logo lettered on it in silver script. Inside is a charging cable for this USB-rechargeable toy, and an instruction booklet which details the vibe’s 15 (!) modes. These are pretty unique as far as vibrator patterns go, because the Craybit is juggling three motors at once. Some of the modes are more basic – all three motors on a steady speed, or all three thumping in synchrony – but some are more complex: the clit vibe can thrum in hills and valleys while the internal motors pulse erratically, for example, or each motor can throb in turn, like they’re singing in a round together.

Unfortunately none of these patterns do what I really want this type of vibe to be able to do: vibrate steadily on my clit while the internal motors pound rhythmically. My erogenous zones each crave a different type of stimulation, and I know I’m not alone in that. What my A-spot and G-spot want is always gonna be different from what my clit wants, and these patterns get it frustratingly almost-right. The closest to my ideal is the 8th one, which alternates between a low and high speed on the clit, stays steadily low on the G-spot, and pulses for a few beats on the A-spot before vibrating normally for a few more beats and then starting over at the beginning. As such, this vibe works better for me as a foreplay tease than as a “finisher.”

The motors are pretty decent – or possibly they just feel like they are because there are three of them. (Kinda like how three mediocre actors reciting the same Shakespeare monologue in unison would impress me more than just one of them stumbling through it.) I can’t actually isolate them to test them each on their own because all 15 of the toy’s modes utilize all three motors at once. This is ultimately the toy’s main flaw – that you can’t control the motors individually. I realize it would be a lot of buttons to have to cram onto the handle of a vibrator, but I really wish it were an option, even just via a Bluetooth app on your phone (and I am not normally one to say vibrator apps are good!). The perennial problem with rabbit vibrators is that everyone’s body is different so it’s hard for a dual-stimulation toy to get the stimulation right in both its motors for any particular person, and that problem is, of course, compounded once you introduce a third motor.

That said, my G-spot and A-spot appreciate the strong rumbliness of the Craybit’s internal motors. I just wish the clit motor was less buzzy (as far as I can tell, it’s the buzziest of the three), and that there were some lower speed settings. Even the lowest steady pattern feels overwhelming if I’m not warmed up – in much the same way as those three bad Shakespearian actors would be overwhelming if you were only expecting one or two to show up.

The clit stimulator is one of those classic two-pronged “bunny ears” situations. I actually like this one better than most others of its type, because the ears are made of solid, substantial silicone so they don’t flap around as much as these usually do, and it’s easier to get them to stay put on my clit. However, I know that’ll make it less appealing for people who find the flapping-around pleasurable.

The relative solidness of the bunny ears also introduces some problems, mainly that when I do need to adjust their positioning, I often end up accidentally slingshotting them onto my clit in a way that feels like a tiny slap. Not ideal… unless you’re into that.

The handle of the toy buzzes annoyingly when it’s on, but honestly I can’t really fault the designers for that – it’s a lot of vibration in one product, so I can see how it would be hard to keep the toy’s handle issues, uh, handled. Fortunately the toy is shaped such that it stays anchored in place pretty well in my vagina, snug against my G-spot and A-spot, so I can use it hands-free if I want to. The shape also makes it so that the most natural-feeling way to thrust this toy (if indeed you choose to thrust with it) is to use short, deep motions, which are exactly what my A-spot likes anyway. It’s a very thoughtful design.

There are a lot of weird things about Tracy’s Dog’s overall branding and marketing that I need to address. First of all, does anyone else immediately start singing “Tracy’s Dog has got it going on“ upon reading this company’s name? Secondly, did they really need to evoke a dog in the name of their, um, SEX TOY company? Thirdly, why do they have a YouTube channel where a hot tattooed man dressed like a cowboy answers frequently asked questions about the toy while shirtless, drinking whiskey, lighting a cigarette, playing a guitar, playing the chimes, staring pensively into a mirror, and giving problematic misinformation about the hymen while playing pool? …Okay, I have to admit I like the tattooed cowboy. But he raises even more questions for me than he answers. Is he supposed to be Tracy?! Is the dog in this video therefore the eponymous Tracy’s dog? Why is he always hanging out in what appears to be the world’s coolest saloon/motorcycle garage/house? Is he an actor who the company hired to perform in these videos? If so, where can I see the rest of his filmography in its entirety? Enquiring minds need to know.

I also noticed in my research for this review that some of the Craybit’s marketing copy says it’ll give you “an orgasm so intense that it straightens your legs out like a fainting goat,” which is how I ended up reading the whole Wikipedia article on fainting goats while absent-mindedly thrusting the toy in and out of me during a testing session. (Thanks to my friend Sarah, who loves goats, for enlightening me on this topic.) I don’t think I developed an odd fetish as a result of this episode, but who the hell knows. I also noticed that the same page contains a graphic that again uses my “molten-hot, addictive” turn of phrase. Guess it’s hard for an old dog to learn new tricks.

Overall, I like this vibe, and I love that it exists – yay, A-spot rep! – but I can’t say I’ll be reaching for it a lot. The Tracy’s Dog Craybit is an overwhelming vibrator that assails three of my major erogenous zones with strong simultaneous vibration. It does that very well, but that’s not really what I want out of a sex toy – I want to be able to control the sensations each spot feels at any given time, and that includes being able to start on a low speed. However, I can recommend this toy for you if you want a vibrator that will rock your entire internal clitoris with powerful patterns and va-va-voom vibrations – in other words, a vibrator that’ll make you feel, I guess, like a fainting goat.

 

This post was sponsored, which means that Tracy’s Dog paid me to write an honest and fair review of their product. As always, all writing and opinions are entirely my own.

Monthly Faves: Pillows, Podcasts, & Powerful Memoirs

Kate Sloan

Hope your COVID summer has been as stress-free as can reasonably be expected, loves. Here are some things I loved in August…

 

Media

• After devouring all three episodes of Netflix’s longform improv special series Middleditch & Schwartz when it came out, my partner and I started watching some similarly-structured specials performed by TJ & Dave. Longform improv is truly one of my passions and makes me feel so happy and hopeful even when the world sucks.

• The brilliant sex writer Girl on the Net went through a breakup recently and I really feel for her, especially since she writes such beautiful things about her feelings, in addition to the blisteringly hot erotica she’s best known for. I decided it was the right time for me to finally read her book, Girl on the Net: How a Bad Girl Fell in Love. It’s full of sexy and romantic stories, along with incisive commentary about what it’s like to be – and to date – a sex blogger. Needless to say, I loved it!

• Next I dove into Glennon Doyle‘s memoir Untamed, which is about how this “Christian mommy blogger” (god, I hate that so many people’s voices drip with misogyny when they use that term, but it is the most widely-used term for the type of blogging she’s known for) fell in love with a famous lesbian soccer player and then made the decision to uproot her entire life: leave her husband, restructure her family, and marry her new love. It’s a beautiful book containing a lot of wise insights about love, parenthood, and systemic sexism.

• I’ve been introducing my partner to The O.C., a show that I found very influential when I was 12-13. We’re watching (or re-watching, in my case) season 2, in which the stunning Olivia Wilde plays bisexual icon and punk bartender Alex Kelly, a characterization that I credit with making me realize I was bi all those years ago. It’s every bit as good as I remember it being – all the smarts of a nerdy primetime drama, crammed into the format of a syrupy soap opera.

• It’d been a few years since I played The Sims, but this month another wave of quarantine boredom hit me (what else is new, right?) so I bought The Sims 4 and a few expansion packs/add-ons. Been enjoying building elaborate houses and watching virtual lives play out on my computer in this weird era when our own actual lives can’t play out as planned.

 

Products

• After dealing with recurrent neck pain for a few weeks that seemed to be the fault of my flat-ass old pillows, I decided to splurge on Wirecutter’s most highly-recommended pillow, the Nest Easy Breather. It was absurdly expensive for what it is, especially when you factor in the currency conversion and import duties, but I figure there are few things more worth spending money on than the object I lay my head on each night. Anyway, it’s blissfully comfortable, as you would expect. Maybe one day I’ll be able to afford a whole set…

• These black sequinned Ugg boots were on sale recently and I’ve wanted Uggs for years – my old winter boots are falling apart – so I bought a pair. Since it’s still summer I’ve just been wearing them around the house like slippers, but OMG, they are so cozy and comfy. I think me buying Uggs is a good sign re: divesting myself of toxic fashion-industry norms.

• Is it weird to put cornstarch on this list?! I recently learned that rolling around your (pressed, cubed) tofu in a blend of cornstarch and spices before pan-frying causes it to crisp up real good. I feel like a culinary genius whenever I cook it this way, even though it’s actually pretty easy.

• My partner gifted me their old Apple Watch a while ago when they got a newer one, and I’ve been enjoying using it primarily as a step tracker during the coronavirus debacle. When I’m not getting nearly enough exercise, and I know exercise is good for my mood and my chronic pain, it helps to have some kind of external motivation imposed on me to get my steps in, even if that’s just seeing my step tracker tick upwards on a watch screen.

 

Work & Appearances

• Bex and I celebrated reaching the 200th episode of the Dildorks by telling silly stories of our various sexual milestones! We also interviewed the delightful Aryn about sexual astrology, chatted with two whip-smart researchers about their new book on sex and social media, and discussed subspace and topspace.

• In my weekly newsletter, I wrote about having romantic/sexy dreams about people you know IRL, three kinky fantasies my partner asked me to expand upon, the room where me and mb first kissed (and which we were definitely not supposed to kiss in), and our first financial domination scene, which involved luxe lingerie and a lot of negotiation.

• My brother is a fantastic guitar player, and we teamed up to cover the Hippo Campus song “Vines” when I visited my family recently. Always a pleasure playing music with Max!

• A lot of my work projects this month were things I’m not able to talk about in detail: another potential book project on the horizon, a game I might be developing for a publisher, and some ghostwriting for a pro domme client. Exciting stuff! I’ll tell you more when I can.

 

Good Causes

• The death of Chadwick Boseman from colon cancer this month was a shock to many. Donating to organizations that support Black people facing medical difficulties, like the Black Health Alliance or the Sisters Network, would be a lovely way to commemorate him and help other folks who are struggling like he was.

• J.K. Rowling is unfortunately still being a transphobic monster, so why not donate to an organization that supports trans people, such as the Black Trans Femmes in the Arts collective, the Trevor Project, or the Homeless Black Trans Women Fund?

• The Glad Day Lit Emergency Survival Fund is still raising cash to help support queer and trans artists impacted financially by COVID.

The Women I Like

Kate Sloan

Like most bisexuals (at least, most of the ones I have talked to), my attractions are not equally spread across all the genders I am attracted to. I’m also not always attracted to people of all genders in the same ways. There are differences – not hard-and-fast rules, necessarily, but trends – and for a long time, those differences made me secretly doubt my own bisexuality even as I was yelling on the internet about how all self-identified bisexuals are valid. It’s funny how the things you most believe to be true are often the things you have a hard time accepting are true about you.

Compared to my relatively frequent crushes on men and people whose presentation floats between androgyny and masculinity (insofar as gender presentation can be simplified that way, which ultimately it kinda can’t), my crushes on women and feminine people are rare. This hasn’t always been the case for me – I skewed much gayer in high school, an inexplicable swing of the pendulum toward a side that I’ll probably swing back toward one day – but it’s been this way for several years now. In some ways it’s a blessing: my infatuations with women are uncommon enough that when one does happen, I notice it – hard.

It’s fairly predictable, the way it happens, and the people it happens with. They tend to be brunettes, with bold personalities and excellent boundary-setting skills. They have smoky voices and great laughs. They have strong opinions about whiskey or gin. They’re comfier in leather boots than in luxe heels. Many of them are Jewish, like me – perhaps because I love a broad with a big, strong nose and a commanding demeanor. (#NotAllJews, for sure. But a good number of them!) They love rock music or experimental theatre or arthouse films. They overflow with passion and conviction.

There is something about a dark-haired woman in heavy eyeliner and a leather jacket that just… sends me. I struggle to piece together my sentences like a ruffled ceramicist holding out a broken vase in cupped hands: Is this what will make you like me? The women I like seem to transcend words like “feminine” and “masculine,” embodying one on some days and one on others, and sometimes both at once, side-stepping categorizations and mostly just not giving a fuck.

The women I like are braver than me, more decisive than me, and (crucially) more dominant than me. I’m a submissive through and through, and sometimes it feels so infused into my bones that it feels like it is my sexual orientation. Certainly, a partner’s dominant energy (or lack thereof) is typically more of a deciding factor in my attractions than their gender identity or presentation. The women I like almost always look like they would gladly beat me up if I asked, and would sweetly request bruise pictures the next day. They probably don’t know how to cook a pot roast or sew a button, but they do know their way around bondage cuffs and a heavy wooden paddle.

The women I like are usually well-spoken if you can discount all the curse words (and let’s not forget that creative and colorful swearing can be, itself, a type of well-spokenness). They speak before they think, which sometimes gets them into trouble, but they’re humble enough to apologize when they know they’ve fucked up. They get a little blushy and flustered when they have a crush, but not as much as I do – because I love a woman who can confidently push my buttons and let me feel like the smaller, gigglier, frailer one among us.

The women I like usually self-identify as gay, with that word specifically. There is something about it that piques my interest immediately when a woman uses it, maybe because the first person I ever dated (who then identified as a gender-weird girl and is now, last I checked, nonbinary) called themselves “extremely gay” the first time I ever saw them, and their surety in that sentiment made me feel extremely gay too. It’s a shame that so many gay women see bi women like me as automatic write-offs, but at the same time, I’m glad that the biphobes self-select themselves the hell out of my life.

The women I like have usually seriously questioned their gender identity at least once – and I’m focusing this post on women because many of them have chosen that label after a fair bit of self-reflection and consideration, which I respect very much. My crushes on nonbinary and genderqueer people are a different topic entirely and I don’t want this post to come across as though I’m lumping those folks together with women, because I’m not and I don’t. I do love the self-knowledge and boundless curiosity it takes to examine the gendered label society gave you, whether or not you eventually decide it fits, and many of the women I like have done exactly that.

The women I like will tell you to shut the fuck up if you say something transphobic or racist or ableist or biphobic. They will also not judge you if you call yourself a not-strictly-P.C. term (like “crazy” or “dyke” or “slut”) because they respect your right to self-identify as you wish and reclaim words that feel good.

The women I like tend to pride themselves on their sexual skills, whether that’s oral or fingerbanging or strap-on fucking or all of the above. They pack dildos in their handbags or slide lube packets into their jeans pockets for later use. They ask questions about my likes and dislikes and don’t assume that us having a gender label in common means we enjoy all the same things. They, in fact, relish the differences between us, those electric points of contrast that make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

The women I like are chivalrous because they’ve chosen to be, not because society tells them they ought to be, the way it does with men who date women. They may get a bit flustered when they bring me flowers or open my car door for me, but it’s not because they feel silly doing those things – it’s because they like doing those things so much that it’s slightly embarrassing. I try to compliment them all the way through so they can step into their deliberate chivalry with backbone and verve.

The women I like make me wonder what they’re into in bed, in a way I never feel quite as intensely with men, even men I desperately want to fuck. The comparative lack of social and sexual scripts for queer relationships means that my queer infatuations are even more of a blank slate, even more of a choose-your-own-adventure erotica novel, and my lady-crush du jour could just as easily be into floggers or knives or vintage stockings – it’s a mystery I’m always excited to solve.

The women I like are few and far between. But when I meet one, I know it. I feel it in my heart and my stomach and my cunt. I feel it in the way I start sweating, giggling, and trying to seem impressive. I feel it in the way she shakes my hand, or bumps my shoulder with hers, or offers to buy me a drink. It’s a special kind of magic somehow made all the more special by its rarity. I wish, and wait, and wonder what her lipstick would look like intermingled with mine.

Review: Drywell Lolita G-Spot Vibrator

Kate Sloan

I must admit, I was pretty amused when I saw there was a sex toy company called Drywell. “What are these,” I wondered, “vibrators for Ben Shapiro?!”

The company wanted me to review one of their toys and let me take my pick, so I selected a silicone rechargeable G-spot vibrator known as the Lolita. I liked its vaguely shell-like, feminine aesthetic, and figured a penetrative vibe is usually a safe bet when choosing a toy I’m not sure I’ll enjoy, because if one of my erogenous zones doesn’t like it then another one might instead.

Well, I was in for a surprise – because I actually do like this vibe. Like, way more than I was expecting. Well-played, Drywell!

The main thing that sets the Lolita apart from other G-spot vibrators of its ilk is that it’s bendable, like the We-Vibe Nova 2 which I also reviewed recently. While I doubt this will become a standard feature of penetrative toys any time soon, I love that I’m seeing it pop up more and more, because a customizable toy is just… a better toy (other factors notwithstanding). We don’t all want the same kinds of stimulation, and the bendability of this vibrator means I’m just as likely to enjoy it, with my sensitive princess of a G-spot, as someone who likes theirs pressed hard and pounded. The Lolita can have almost no curve at all, or it can be curled up into a fairly tight C-shape, or anywhere in between, as per your preference – incredible. There is some scrunching of the silicone casing that happens when you bend it past about 90°, though, which I’d imagine could cause some wear and tear after prolonged use in that position. Conveniently, bending the vibe also helps it anchor in place better when it’s inserted, so I can even use this toy hands-free when I don’t feel like thrusting it.

Let’s talk about the vibrations. This vibe only has one intensity level, which I was prepared to yell and scream about in my review once I learned about it. But here’s the thing… On top of its one steady speed, the Lolita also has 5 patterns, and they make all the difference. I can’t even pick a favorite, and for once it’s not because I hate all of the patterns equally. “Foreplay Mode” is short, fast pulses of vibration; “Touch Mode” is longer pulses that feel slightly like the rhythmic strokes of a partner’s fingers against my G-spot; “Joyful Mode” is also short, fast pulses but more staccato and thus more impactful and stimulating; “Passionate Mode” is short pulses that vary slightly in intensity over time to create a feeling of peaks and valleys; and finally, there’s “Orgasm Mode,” the least aptly-named pattern of the bunch, which starts low and builds up erratically to a high speed over about 2-3 seconds before going back to low.

Most sex toy designers don’t seem to understand what vibration patterns are for. While I’m sure there are people who enjoy patterns with lots of pauses in between their buzzes, or patterns peppered with randomness to keep users on their toes, for the most part I think what vibration patterns do best is create the illusion of movement. This is especially true for G-spot vibrators, since that internal zone has different types of nerves than, say, a clitoris, and thus (in my experience) can more easily interpret the bzz-bzz-bzz of a vibration pattern as feeling more like the tap-tap-tap of a finger or even a thrusting cock as it slides on by. These Drywell patterns seem designed with that in mind, particularly since they lack significant pauses between any of the buzzes, so there’s constant stimulation of some kind no matter what mode you’re on. These are the type of patterns that make me, a pattern-hater, into a pattern-tolerator or even a pattern-adorer.

These patterns (jeez, how many times am I gonna say that word in this review?!) also drastically improve what would otherwise be the toy’s biggest problem: its motor. The Lolita’s vibrations are strong – an important quality in a toy designed to stimulate a structure buried in the vaginal wall, i.e. the G-spot – but they lean fairly buzzy. In fact, if I’m holding the vibe while using it clitorally, often my hand will start to feel numb and itchy within a matter of seconds. But this hand-numbing effect is mitigated significantly once the toy is inside me, where it’s designed to go – and so is the annoyance of the vibrations on my erogenous zones. Any time my G-spot starts to feel a bit desensitized from all the buzzing, I can just switch to a different pattern and it’ll feel good again. Even when the surface skin of my vagina gets pretty overstimulated, the deeper tissue can still register the tapping, thumping, and pulsing of the patterns – in fact, it almost feels more like fingerfucking or thrusting when I get to this stage, even if the vibe remains stationary. It’s really wonderful and unique.

Image via Drywell

Speaking of thrusting, you can definitely do that with this toy. It’s actually designed really thoughtfully with that usage in mind, so it would seem. Once you’ve adjusted the shaft to your ideal angle – which, by the way, might change as your G-spot gets more turned on – you can grab the handle, which has handy silicone grips on either side for this purpose, and press against the hard plastic panel on the back of it to give you leverage while you thrust. As someone who struggles to move toys in and out on bad pain days (especially toys made of silicone, one of the draggiest materials even with lube), I appreciate these little touches a lot.

That good design also extends to the toy’s control panel. It has two buttons: one turns the toy on, and the other cycles through the patterns. But crucially, the power button also functions as a “back to the previous pattern” button when the toy is in use, which is fucking fantastic. It is annoying as hell to have to scroll through every single pattern to get back to the one you liked, especially in the throes of arousal, so I really appreciate being able to navigate between the settings easily and quickly.

My G-spot has to be very warmed up to enjoy this toy, but once it’s in the mood for intense stimulation, boy, can the Lolita deliver. The combo of vibration patterns + thrusting + the subtle dragging/scraping of the toy’s ridged head against my vaginal wall is kinda divine. One downside of how intense the Lolita is: I can’t pair it with clitoral vibrators that are at all subtle, like the Eroscillator, because their sensations will just get drowned out by the high-octane buzzing and throbbing going on in my vag. Something with a lot of power and a bit of buzz, like the Magic Wand, makes a much better companion for the Lolita.

Lest you think I like everything about this toy, here’s the paragraph my journalism-school professors would call “the fly in the ointment”… First off, the Lolita is loud, though the noise level dies down significantly when it’s in my vag. Secondly, the buttons of mine light up in erratic, seemingly patternless flashes when the toy is on, which doesn’t bug me all that much but could be distracting or even epilepsy-triggering for some folks. Thirdly, the ridges all up and down the toy’s insertable portion are hell to clean, and require some kind of scrub brush. And finally, I have to imagine this toy isn’t terribly high-quality due to the price (a shockingly low $22 USD or $36 CAD), so I wouldn’t be surprised if it doesn’t last me very long; that said, it does feel much more durable in my hands than a lot of other vibes I’ve tested in this price range.

I wouldn’t recommend this vibe for prostate play, even though it would likely feel awesome on a prostate, because the base is not at all flared so it wouldn’t be safe to insert anally. Drywell doesn’t really make anything anal-safe, although they do have this self-lubricating massage wand (???) that is marked “for male” and that is therefore probably designed to do something to dicks and/or butts. I dunno, your guess is as good as mine.

All in all, I continue to be surprised by how much I like this vibrator. I’m not the biggest fan of G-spot vibration in general, but when I’m craving it occasionally, I’d much rather reach for the Drywell Lolita than the Lelo Mona or even the We-Vibe Rave because of the bendability, stellar patterns, and ease of use. (Sorry, We-Vibe, but I don’t always want to smear lube on my phone screen trying to change my vibe’s settings mid-wank.) It’s also way cheaper than those other toys, which can sell for $100+ each. When I need to stuff my vagina with vibrations to get enough over-the-top G-spot stimulation for a killer blended orgasm, the Lolita’s my gal.

Y’all, I can’t believe a toy made by a company called Drywell made me squirt. What a world we live in.

 

This post was sponsored, meaning that Drywell (whose products you can buy in various places online) paid me to write a fair and honest review of their product. As always, all writing and opinions are my own. Yes, I really do actually like this vibe!

What’s Your Sunday Routine?

Kate Sloan

Sundays are the most anxiety-provoking day of the week for many people. For those of us with a standard Monday-to-Friday work week (which is, itself, a privilege in many ways), pre-emptive Monday nerves can sneak into Sunday and turn it from a relaxed respite into pins-and-needles panic. It doesn’t have to be this way!

Recently I read, with fascination, Rachel Syme’s Twitter thread about her favorite way to spend a Sunday. She calls it “Sunday Expert” and it’s a game in which you choose a subject you’re organically intrigued by and decide to make a day of becoming an expert on that thing. This can involve doing research in the form of article-reading and video-watching, or you can take a more feet-on-the-ground approach and physically go to a location that would help you in your research – you might, for example, scope out a house near you where a historical legend used to live, or (in pre- and post-COVID times) even visit a library to satiate your nerdy cravings. To me this seems like such a great way to infuse some fun and frivolity into a day that can otherwise feel so high-pressure and scary.

Rachel Syme also, incidentally, started the #DistanceButMakeItFashion movement, which encourages participants to dress up on Sundays and post pictures on social media to combat lockdown loneliness and pandemic melancholy. There is something about wearing heels and lipstick on a Sunday that helps me feel like I spent my weekend well and am ready for the week to start up again.

I know a lot of advocates of the Getting Things Done (GTD) system like to do their “weekly review” on Sundays. It’s all about processing “loose ends” – like that cheque on your desk you’ve been meaning to deposit, or that note you made early in the week that says “call mom” – as well as reflecting on how you did over the past week and setting goals and intentions for the week to come. This is all very Productivity Nerd™ and I admire it a lot, although I have to admit that my own workflow and energy levels are too chaotic for me to decisively commit to such a system.

My blogger heroine Gala Darling, on the other end of the productivity/relaxation spectrum, has oft advocated for “Sunday Funday,” a weekly ritual of just… not working, all day. For those of you who leave your work at the office when you go home on Friday, this might be a bit confusing, but for freelancers and other self-employed folks (as well as many people whose workplaces just don’t have a good handle on boundaries), it’s all too easy to let your work week carry over into the weekend. This creates a shitty cycle where you don’t get the rest you need and then suddenly it’s Monday morning and you’re just as exhausted as you were last Thursday. Not ideal! I’ve been trying to take this one to heart over the past few months, typically eschewing emails and other less-than-exciting work tasks in favor of rest and recuperation, and it’s lovely.

I asked my Twitter followers about their Sunday routines (thanks, if you contributed!) and the answers varied greatly, though there were some recurring themes: cleaning, planning, laundry, aesthetic top-ups (like re-painting nails or doing an elaborate skincare routine), exercise, and meditation. This all sounds pretty excellent to me!

As for my current routine… Recently my partner and I overhauled our protocol agreements, and one of the things we added was a weekly to-do list for me to complete over the weekend. This list of tasks was always done unofficially before – which is to say, sometimes it didn’t get done at all – but now it’s codified into a digital note which syncs to my partner’s devices so they can keep an eye on my progress. The list is pretty simple: tidy my room, clean out the fridge, take the trash out, do all the dishes, and wash all the dirty sex toys that have piled up over the course of the week. I can do these any time throughout the weekend, but I usually leave ’em til Sunday so I get at least one full day beforehand to do nothing, guilt-free.

What I like about this list is that I can alter the way I complete it in accordance with my energy levels and health status on any given Sunday. On healthy, happy, energetic days, I can knock out the whole list in an hour. When I’m feeling more sluggish or depressed, I might complete one task, rest for a while, do another one, read a chapter of a book, do another one, play video games for a bit, and so on. I do feel motivated to complete the list ASAP, however, because then I get the feeling of accomplishment of having ticked off every item on a list and I don’t need to feel guilty when I take the rest of the day to just chill.

This all sounds very Jordan Peterson of me – “Keep your room tidy and your whole life will feel structured and satisfying!” – but, hey, even a bigoted conservative clock is right twice a day (I guess…). Starting the week with a clean apartment makes me feel so much more able to take on the challenges the week will serve up. It also means I don’t have to juggle multiple energy-draining tasks on work days, when I’m already generally pretty tapped out by the time I close my laptop at 5 p.m. (or 6, or 7, or… 10).

As part of my tidying, I usually come across items I’ll need for the week ahead – like a sex toy I’m on deadline to review, or a page of notes from a client call – and I’ll collect those in an orderly way on my desk so they’ll be accessible when I want ’em. This makes me feel so much more sane and less stressed out all week long.

This is what works for me right now – I’m sure it’ll continue shifting and evolving as I learn more and more about my own patterns and needs. What are your Sunday routines and rituals?