Review: Tantus Alumina Revolve

Kate Sloan

I get overly excited by sex toy materials that are new to me. Somehow I always feel like they’re going to drastically transform my sex life. They usually don’t.

The Tantus Alumina Revolve is made of solid aluminum. I’d been picturing the same sort of flimsy metal that pop cans are made out of (or soda cans, for you Americans), but nope – this toy is sturdy and firm. It’s not as heavy as steel, so it’d be a good option for someone who wants metal but has weak arms or hands.

Toys from the Alumina collection each come in a padded box, quite unlike any of Tantus’ other packaging. It’s much more protective and much fancier. I might actually use this box for long-term storage, which I almost never do.

The Alumina collection has been discontinued, but the toys are still available from many retailers. I chose the Revolve because it looked like it would work best from my body; the other options include the Pace, Motion, and Flow. Each Alumina toy can be unscrewed at the middle and screwed back together with parts from other toys of the same collection, so you can basically “build your own toy” if you have multiple Aluminas.

The Revolve is meant for G-spotting. One end is a bulbous head (bulbous compared to the skinny shaft; it’s actually pretty small in diameter – about 1.3") and one end is three graduated ripples. The single-headed end is surprisingly awesome for G-spotting, reminding my vagina of other toys that have a thin shaft followed by a large round head, such as the NobEssence Fling. The sensation isn’t as intense as it would be with something curved like the Pure Wand, but this toy evidently knows its away around a G-spot.

The other end isn’t as great. It feels okay when used anally, but vaginally, it doesn’t do a damn thing for me and usually ends up poking me in the cervix. I would swap out this end if I had another Alumina toy to trade with.

Aluminum holds temperatures fabulously well. I took my Revolve in the bath with me and ran it under the tap for a few seconds, and it became deliciously warm almost immediately.

The O-ring in the middle of the toy, where the two segments connect, is a major gathering ground for fluids and lube. With the G-spot end, I don’t ever need to insert the toy that far, but the triple-ripple end does need to be inserted that far for it to feel even remotely good, so it’s a bit of a problem.

So I guess you could say that the Alumina Revolve was a half-success for me. I love the G-spotting end, but the other end is pretty useless for my vagina. Still, aluminum is pretty nifty!

How to Use a Hitachi Magic Wand Without Hating Every Minute Of It

Kate Sloan

I’m not the biggest fan of the Magic Wand. The vibrations are too strong, too sudden, and too surface-level. Many, many people rave about the famous Hitachi, and I am not one of them.

However. There are ways to adapt the Magic Wand to make it friendlier for people with vulvas like mine – people who prefer stimulation that is less numbing, less broad, and/or less jarring. Here are some tricks I’ve learned that work for me.

1. Warm up. You have to do it when you use big dildos so it makes sense to do it with powerhouse vibrators too. Try using a smaller vibe until you’re very turned on, and then switch to the big guns.

2. Use a fabric barrier. I usually use my Hitachi through my underwear and sometimes through my yoga pants too. Hell, if I’m on my period, I can even use it through a menstrual pad – it’s that strong. Stick some fabric between you and your wand and you may find it a lot more manageable. You can always remove those barriers later if you want a more direct sensation.

3. Get a penetrative attachment. Vixen Creations makes a beautiful silicone one, but it’s pricey, so you might want to start with a cheap porous one to make sure you like it. These attachments can be used for penetration, sure, but they also transform your Hitachi into a more pinpointed clit toy. You can focus the vibrations right onto your clit instead of having them spread over your whole vulva, and that might make it easier for you to get off with your wand.

4. Experiment with pressure. Some people need to press the wand hard against their vulva to feel anything at all. Some may have a better time if they hold the toy very, very lightly so it’s just barely grazing their genitals. Try out different amounts of pressure and see if you can find a way that works.

5. Experiment with placement. My favorite way to use my Hitachi, which I only just discovered a couple of weeks ago, is to hold it on one of my outer labia, so my clit only receives vibration via the skin next to it, and not from the wand directly. This feels really great and allows me to avoid a lot of the numbness I used to get from my Hitachi. Try positioning yours somewhere other than the place you’d normally put a vibrator; you might find a goldmine.

6. Use a dimmer switch. I do not officially recommend this, because the Hitachi isn’t meant to be used with a dimmer so you may experience electrical shorts or even electrical fires if you try it. But many people say that they wouldn’t be able to use their wand pleasurably if not for their dimmer.

7. Keep it moving. Leaving the Hitachi in one spot for too long can cause numbness. If you move it around your vulva – maybe in circles, maybe up and down, or maybe in a sporadic and unpredictable pattern of your choosing – you may escape most or all of that numbness.

What are your best Hitachi tips?

Cyclical Cock Cravings

Kate Sloan

The female hormone cycle is a strange thing. I’m on hormonal birth control, so you’d think I wouldn’t have any of the odd, cyclical mood swings and changes in desire that accompany certain times of the month for many women, and yet, somehow, I do.

Every time I’m on my period, I develop a weeklong craving for realistic dildos.

My current favorite, by far, is the VixSkin Mustang. It’s easily the most realistic toy I own, in both appearance and sensation. And every time my Shark Week comes around, without fail, I end up laying a towel under my hips and going to town on myself with the Mustang. That poor little dildo has bloodstains on it more often than any other toy of mine.

The Tantus Mark O2 and Adam O2 fulfill similar cravings, though they are a fair bit firmer, so sometimes my sore menstrual cervix can’t quite handle ‘em when I’m bleeding.

Lately I’ve been trying to make up my mind about whether to buy myself a VixSkin Maverick – essentially a bigger, juicier version of the Mustang I love so much. Last night I finally went ahead and did it. It’s probably way too huge for my relatively small vag, but it’ll be something to work toward, I guess!

What kinds of sex toys do you sometimes crave? Does your hormonal cycle have anything to do with it?

Review: Tantus Charmer

Kate Sloan

(The Charmer is the pink ripply one! Other dildos pictured: Happy Valley Perk, Tantus Comet, Tantus Raptor, Fun Factory Rainbow Amor, Vixen Leo, Tantus Mark O2, and Tantus Vamp. Um, I have a lot of Tantus toys.)

The Tantus Charmer is tiny, at only 1 1/8" in diameter, and I have a habit of buying unnecessarily small dildos, which is how it ended up in my collection.

However, I’m really pleased with it. It’s like anal beads for my vag.

I know, that sounds weird, given that the vagina’s opening doesn’t widen and narrow around incoming objects like the ass does. But the feeling is still strangely similar.

The Charmer has a series of ridges along its front, which bump up against my G-spot again and again as I slide it in and out. So despite its modest girth, I can really feel it.

Mine is a gorgeous shade of pearl pink. Normally I wouldn’t choose pink over other color options but this particular incarnation of the color is lovely.

I think this would be a great dildo for someone who likes G-spot stimulation but is too tight to use most traditional G-spot toys.

It’s also a fabulous toy for anal play, and would (I imagine) work brilliantly for pegging, since it not only feels wonderful but is also small and non-representational.

The Charmer, though too small to satisfy size queens and kings, is one of the better tiny dildos I’ve impulsively bought.

Best of all, it’s in Tantus’ closeout section, so you can get it for only – wait for it – $20! I am not normally one to use the word “amazeballs” but I feel that it’s an apt word to describe this situation.

4 Ways to Bring a Little More Gay Into Your Life

Kate Sloan

As the Pride festival nears, I’m spending a lot of time pondering my queerness. Specifically, where my queerness fits into my life as a person in a “straight” relationship.

Being bisexual has always been a bit of a struggle for me, identity-wise, because ever since I came out I’ve always hated the idea of being mistaken for straight or gay (both of which have happened to me countless times). I wish people would just “read” me as bi, but it rarely seems to happen.

And now that I’ve been dating a man for over two years, and have a gender presentation that’s as cis and femme as ever, it seems my queerness always gets lost in the shuffle. Even in queer spaces, I don’t always feel understood or seen. I’ve gotten booed for kissing my boyfriend at Pride events, I’ve had people try to explain basic LGBTQ concepts to me as if they’d be totally foreign to my mind, I’ve had people give me stares that say “What are you doing here?” It makes me sad.

Bleeding-heart complaints aside, I know that there are other people who feel the way I do – people whose identity straddles some line(s) between hetero and queer, and who feel skewered on that fence. Here are some suggestions for how you can re-access the gay side of yourself, if you’re feeling like you’ve lost it a little bit.

1. Volunteer for an LGBTQ organization. There is surely one in your area, so get Googlin’! I’m using the word “organization” broadly here – you could do fundraising at your local nonprofit, get in contact with school administrators to see if you can help set up GSAs, join the street team for your city’s Pride festival, or even see if your local LGBT yoga group needs help washing mats. It can be enormously nourishing to meet new people from your community and to do good work for that community. (And baby, if you ain’t got no time, maybe you could give some money instead.)

2. Consume queer media. If you do this already, do it more! Some recommendations: books by S. Bear Bergman and Ivan Coyote, porn by Courtney Trouble and Shine Louise Houston, documentaries about the LGBT community, and The L Word in its entirety.

3. Wear a queer talisman. Granted, plenty of LGBT folks think it’s tacky as hell to wear a rainbow bracelet or gay suspenders or what have you. But, honestly, when I’m going into a situation where I absolutely do not want people to mistake me for straight, sometimes it makes me feel a whole lot better to adorn myself in one or two loud-and-queer accessories. My talisman of choice is usually my rainbow wristband – it goes with every outfit!

4. Re-read old journals/blog posts/love letters from when you had your first same-sex crush. Remember how weird that felt? How scared and yet excited you were? Remember all the concerns these new feelings raised for you – how/when/whether to come out, what label(s) fit you best, what it all meant? Those seminal experiences paved your path into a queer identity and (hopefully) community, so they’re worth revisiting if you’re feeling a little cloudy on those topics.

I know there will inevitably be people who want to tell me something like, “Just be who you are! It doesn’t matter whether people think you’re straight or whether you’ve ‘got enough gay in your life.’ Just live your life.” And they’re right, to a certain extent… but hey, queer folks should know better than anyone that sometimes you gotta engage in some self-care in order to feel okay about how people are reacting to you. And this is some of mine.

Photo credit: Sue Maguire.