My Favorite Album is a Decade Old (& Absurdly Romantic)

Kate Sloan

It’s funny how falling down an internet rabbit hole can lead you to opportunities, people, and art that will later change your life.

That’s what happened to me with the Fort Christmas 5-song EP titled Feathers, way back in 2011. I was an occasional follower of Rock ‘n’ Roll Bride, a wedding blog for “alternative” brides. They posted an engagement photoshoot of a couple, Jeremy Larson and Elsie Flannigan (now Elsie Larson!), whose quirky, Wes Anderson-esque aesthetic I was immediately intrigued by. When I googled them to find out more, I stumbled upon this blog post by their photographer, who mentioned that Jeremy – a musician, songwriter, and music producer – had released an entire album all about his relationship with Elsie. As a diehard romantic, of course I clicked the link. And I promptly fell in love.

Feathers clangs and clamors right off the top, crashing into my headphones with instantly cheery 1960s-style instrumentals (every part performed by Jeremy, by the way). The opening song, “The Leave Behind,” tells the story of Elsie and Jeremy’s maybe-first date – hanging out with friends on New Year’s Eve, feeling a connection, but not sure yet what to do about it. (I make a point to play this song every year on December 31st, if I’m near a piano or a ukulele, because it just makes me so damn happy to do so.)

Though later in the album he’ll sing about long-term love, getting engaged to Elsie, and wanting a future with her, the first track sparkles like freshly-fallen snow as Jeremy sings about what it feels like to realize you may have just met your future spouse:

Everyone’s eyes are on the TV in the room
But my eyes are fixed on you, and they don’t stray
Because I know that this is the beginning of
The best years of my life
The first years of our life
Starting now
With you and I tonight
-Fort Christmas, “The Leave Behind“

I think the main reason this album struck me as hard as it did was that I was looking for, hoping for, wishing for that kind of love at the time. I was about to graduate from high school, and my relationships during those tumultuous years tended to be brief, surface-level, and unsatisfying. As I walked out into the wider world of adulthood, I sensed there was big big love waiting for me somewhere out there – and the lyrics and guitars and jubilant drums of Feathers felt like the musical embodiment of everything my heart ached for.

I had a relationship with this album that I’ve had occasionally with other songs and albums throughout my life, one of total and complete obsession, self-soothing by repetition. Maybe it’s a bipolar thing, or maybe my brain just latches onto certain music in a way that is slightly abnormal. In any case, before too long I had Feathers playing in my ears at almost all hours of the day. I’d slip my headphones on as I walked to school; I’d transcribe the songs’ words in my school notebooks in spare moments during math class; I’d take solo lunches, leaving my friends behind so I could wander around outdoors under the guise of “getting food” while actually just feeding my brain with gorgeous melodies. I struggled to explain to everyone in my life why these 5 songs were literally all I wanted to listen to anymore (and why I had to play them on loop on the shared family computer when my mom was trying to watch Grey’s Anatomy in the next room). These songs had come to feel like an integral part of my mental and emotional functioning. They felt like food, or water, or air.

At some point I even set Feathers as my alarm, so I could be blasted awake every day not by blaring beeps but instead by Jeremy Larson’s joy. Sometimes I put it on when I went to bed at night, too – though the album made me buzz with happiness so profoundly that I often found it hard to sleep when it was playing.

It’s useless to pretend
You’re not in love with your best friend
On nights like these, it’s fairly evident
-Fort Christmas, “Story Telling”

Two or three months into this Feathers-mania, I met my first serious boyfriend. He was a mild-mannered, good-hearted, goofy nerd from OkCupid, and although I’d had severe anxiety about dating cis men until that point, he ushered me into that world with unfathomable patience and care. (He also encouraged me to start this blog and faithfully cheered me on for years after I did, but that’s another story.) I began to fall in love for the first time.

The songs of Feathers, which are largely about NRE (New Relationship Energy), were the perfect backdrop for this era in my life. It was almost like they had been written for me to listen to at this time – or, more likely, listening to them so much had ushered circumstances into my life that could readily create the same feelings I conjured in my body and brain every time I listened. For the first couple months of our relationship, I kept accidentally calling my new boyfriend “Jeremy,” which was not his name – not because I would rather have been dating Jeremy Larson (my esteem for him has always been mostly limited to musical admiration), but because over my hours and hours of looped listening, his name had crept into my head as the one most associated with crushiness, romantic excitement, and love – and that’s how my boyfriend made me feel. (I’m sure I tried to explain this at the time, and I hope he took it as a compliment!)

I survived the worst night of my life
It went long, staggering 26 years strong
And you arrived to save me, just in time
A new light, morning light, and here we are together
-Fort Christmas, “Newbie“

I think what has stuck with me most about this album is the way it showed me what I find romantic. Or maybe it helped create my sense of what is romantic. I honestly could not fathom, at age 18, that anyone would ever love me enough to, say, write and record and produce an entire album about how much they loved me. I already had inklings that this type of creative effort impressed me, turned me on, and made me swoon (the enby ex who penned me love poems in scrappy zines; the saved voicemail of a girlfriend breathily serenading me), but this album clarified for me that those wishes weren’t just fantasies. People like that really existed somewhere out there.

That first serious boyfriend was a game developer, and during our relationship, he made games for me, like little digital interactive love notes. He also sketched portraits of me, took cute photos of me, cooked me meals, and wrote me beautifully effusive messages on special occasions. His love-borne creativity may not have manifested exactly like Jeremy Larson’s did when he wrote Feathers about Elsie, but that album had broadened my romantic psyche enough that I could see these gestures for what they were: deep, devoted love.

I still listen to Feathers a fair amount. In fact, pretty much whenever it crosses my mind for any reason, I pull it up on my phone and put it on. Even just hearing those opening drum beats makes my entire body relax – because these songs remind me of a time when I believed in and wanted love more than I believed in or wanted anything. And that’s a good feeling, even 10+ years and 5+ partners later. The contours of my heart would be different today if I hadn’t clicked that fateful link in 2011 – or if Jeremy Larson hadn’t picked up a guitar and thought, “I’m going to write some songs about the person I love.”

Here’s a promise I can keep:
I’ll never find another like you
We will stay together
Will you make a lucky man,
An honest man, a better man
For not allowing you to slowly slip away?
-Fort Christmas, “Engaged“

7 Reasons Masturbation is the Safest Kind of Sex

Kate Sloan

I’m sure some of you read the headline of this post and thought, “Yeah, Kate, I was trapped inside alone for most of 2020 – I know all about the benefits of masturbation, thanks!!”

I hear you. And I’m grateful for any sacrifices you may have made in service of public health, even if sometimes those sacrifices came in the form of, say, staying home with your rabbit vibrator in lieu of hopping on Tinder to get inadvisably railed by an unvetted, unvaccinated stranger.

While 2020 had a lot of downsides (obviously), I think one minor silver lining is that so many people spent so much more time masturbating than they ordinarily would. It’s a great way to get to know oneself better sexually, and to focus on one’s own priorities, desires, and pleasure, in a world that sometimes makes that difficult. It’s also, as previously discussed, almost always the safer option than partnered sex – and not just during a global pandemic! Here are 7 reasons masturbation may just be the safest sex you’ll ever have…

 

1. You can’t contract or transmit an STI

Sexually transmitted infections are part and parcel of human sexuality. In a world where you can stock up on condoms at any drugstore and buy PrEP online, we’ve got a better handle on STIs than we did decades or centuries ago, but acquiring or transmitting an STI is still a risk of partnered sex nonetheless.

With STI stigma being gradually reduced by the hard work of sexual health activists, and effective medical treatments now available for most STIs, it’s true that many of us (especially those of us with financial privilege and no preexisting conditions) wouldn’t suffer nearly as many consequences from getting an STI nowadays as we would’ve in ages gone by. But it’s still nice to know that when you jerk off (provided your hands and toys are clean!), you likely won’t be jeopardizing your own health.

 

2. You can’t get pregnant

I’ve definitely been through periods of life when I was oddly paranoid about getting pregnant, sometimes to the point of avoiding penetrative sex despite being on birth control and using condoms… An unexpected baby is a very scary thought, particularly when you know you’re physically and/or financially not up to the task of child-rearing quite yet (or at all)!

The good news is, masturbation can’t get you pregnant (again, provided that your hands and toys are clean, i.e. that they don’t have someone’s recent semen on them!), so you can go to town on yourself without fearing future babies.

 

3. There are no consent issues to worry about

Although I’m sure there are exceptions to this rule (probably having to do with trauma triggers), generally you’re not going to run into consent-related snafus when fucking yourself. After all, you know on a moment-to-moment basis what you’re okay with and what you’re not – or if you don’t actually know those preferences, masturbation is an ideal way to figure them out.

As someone who likes to involve intoxicants (e.g. weed, alcohol) in sexual scenarios, I also appreciate that drunk/high masturbation is overall much safer than drunk/high partnered sex. I’m not going to push my own boundaries or take advantage of myself, even when pleasantly buzzed.

Some people think it’s a consent issue to masturbate while thinking about someone who hasn’t consented to be thought about in that way. I disagree, because I don’t believe in policing people’s thoughts – but keep in mind that it can be a violation to share those thoughts with the person in question, so I wouldn’t recommend doing that unless your relationship with that person is such that it would be acceptable.

 

4. No travel is required

Sounds silly, maybe, but I’ve been in a long-distance relationship for 3+ years – just think how many bus accidents and plane crashes I’ve risked to get laid! The odds are low, of course, but on a bad anxiety day, I’d much rather skip any potential risks and just stay safely tucked into my bed, with an armful of sex toys.

Naturally, this also means masturbation can be more accessible and safer than partnered sex for people whose travel is limited by disability, financial status, pandemics (of course!) and other factors.

 

5. You can accommodate your own physical needs

This unfortunately isn’t true for everyone – there are, for example, disabled folks who are unable to masturbate and who may hire sex workers or sex surrogates to address this – but for many people, masturbation may allow for more of their access needs to be met than partnered sex. You can use your comfy ergonomic pillow or convenient suction cup dildo or relaxing heating pad without any fear of judgment.

For example, when I’m alone on a bad pain day, I can wrap a heating pad around my sore knee without worrying if someone else thinks it’s unsexy or unwieldy, keep my body still in particular positions so as not to overexert myself, and adjust the room to a temperature that I (and only I!) find agreeable. While I’m lucky enough to have a partner who’s always eager to make adjustments according to what I need, I know not everyone is that fortunate, and so sometimes masturbation can be a blessing.

 

6. You can accommodate your own mental/emotional needs

I can’t even count the number of times a random hookup teased me about something they didn’t know was a sore spot, made a body-shaming comment that stung more than I let on, or called me a triggering name during a kink scene.

Some of these incidents weren’t intentionally hurtful – they may not have known better, and I may not have known enough about my own brain and trauma history to be able to fill them in – but nonetheless, sometimes masturbation feels like a safer choice when you’re in a fragile frame of mind or going through a difficult time. If you trigger or upset yourself somehow, at least you can deal with it without also having to manage someone else’s reaction at the same time.

 

7. You won’t break your own heart

Sad but true: many times in my life, I’ve had sex with someone I loved (or just really, really liked) who I knew didn’t feel the same about me. It could almost be a form of emotional self-harm at times, returning over and over again for empty sexual experiences with people I wished would date me, but who only thought of me as their fuckbuddy.

While it would’ve been almost impossible to talk me into it at the time, I wish I’d spent some of those nights at home by myself instead. Probably I’d’ve had more orgasms and cried fewer tears. But hey, you live and you learn. Now I know that calling masturbation “self-love” isn’t just a cheesy euphemism – it’s also a true description of the healthy, healing pleasure you can give yourself whenever you need it.

 

This post was sponsored. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.

Review: Gvibe Gjack 2 & Gpop 2

Kate Sloan

The older I get, the worse my chronic pain gets – and the worse my chronic pain gets, the more I appreciate sex toys like the Gvibe Gjack 2.

I don’t know why more sex toy companies don’t implement looped handles like the one on this toy. Fun Factory, Lelo, and a few others have done so, but it’s definitely not as common as handles with no clear “grabbing point,” which force you to figure out on your own the most comfortable/least painful way to hold them for your particular body.

The handle on the Gjack 2, on the other hand, is designed with incredible thoughtfulness. I can slide my thumb easily through the open loop, and press against its farthest edge with minimal effort when I want to thrust the toy in and out. This feature is great for able-bodied people, too, because it gives you some extra leverage when you’re thrusting. My partner noted that of our collections, this is one of the most ergonomic toys to fuck me with; they can thrust and angle the toy as needed, with ease.

The Gjack 2 is a penetrative vibrator, but honestly, it could’ve (should’ve?) just been a dildo instead. Its vibrations, while decently powerful, are pretty buzzy and kind of loud. I’ve most often used this toy without even turning the vibrations on, and oddly enough, I think that’s the best-feeling way to use it.

It’s made of a material called Bioskin™, and if you know anything about the sex toy industry, you probably know that trademarked toy materials are usually a bad sign. 9 times out of 10, materials with names like CyberSkin™ or BioFlesh™ are just some version of jelly or thermoplastic elastomer – i.e. porous at best, toxic at worst. But according to blogger Phallophile, who contacted Gvibe to inquire about Bioskin, the material is actually a thin silicone veneer on top of a memory foam-esque material. If true, this is a smart solution for the problem sex toy makers have long faced: making toys that feel squishy like real flesh, but aren’t going to give customers chemical burns in their orifices.

(FYI, I asked a friend who is knowledgeable about sex toy science what the odds are that Bioskin is actually a safe material to use; the answer was that any nasty chemicals that could be [but aren’t necessarily] present in the foam would be able to leak through the silicone, but only in greatly decreased and diluted amounts, and that the risk of this happening would likelier be greater from “the bed you’re wanking in” than from a vibrator. The more you know…!)

Indeed, the Bioskin on my Gjack 2 feels smooth to the touch, like silicone, but has a squish more reminiscent of a foam mattress topper. That squish becomes really important when you insert the toy, because it’s covered in ridges all along its 5.5″ insertable length – ridges that would be way too intense, were they rendered in standard silicone. The squishiness makes them much easier to take, though I still feel a distinctive “popping” sensation when each one glides past my pubic bone. Notably, though, the material seems to muffle the toy’s vibrations, as does my mere flesh, so if you like powerful vibrations on your internal erogenous zones, this may miss the mark for you.

The toy’s cocklike head has the most squish of all, which would be a definite boon if your cervix is especially sensitive to pain. However, in testing this toy, I was reminded that my A-spot prefers firm touch. The nearly straight shape of the shaft contributes to the overall “meh”-ness of how the Gjack feels. It’s more like a cloud than a battering ram when it’s inside me, which I know is somebody’s jam, even if it’s not exactly mine.

To me, the most exciting thing about this toy is what it feels like to orgasm around something so spongy. It’s a unique sensation I know many people would love – but for me personally, this toy just doesn’t have enough “oomph” to totally wreck me the way something big and firm like the Eleven or Double Trouble can.

I was sort of hoping Gvibe would send me their Gbulb, an apparently powerful external vibrator that’s shaped like – wait for it – a lightbulb. (?!?) But instead, the second toy they sent me was the Gpop 2, a cute little vibrator designed to be unisex. (IMO, most vibrators are unisex, but it’s nice when a company acknowledges this outright!) This one has a looped handle too – yay! – and is shaped such that you could use it anally, vaginally, or externally, so it’s super versatile.

Because it’s made of silicone rather than Bioskin, the Gpop transmits vibrations much better than the Gjack. This toy rumbles and thrums beautifully, with way more power than you would expect for its diminutive 4.9″x1.1″ size, and feels fantastic on my G-spot and clit alike. The shaft is quite bendy, so if you like to press hard with your vibrators then you may find you can’t get as much pressure as you would prefer with the Gpop, but this feature also makes the toy more comfortable for anal insertion than your average vibrator.

I thought I would prefer the Gjack 2 because it looks more like the types of toys I tend to enjoy, but actually the smaller, rumblier Gpop 2 ended up being my favorite. I love its portability – in addition to being petite, it has a travel lock – and its combination of firm silicone and strong vibrations means it can get me off much more easily than the squishier, buzzier Gjack. At just $66, the Gpop is definitely one of the best vibes I’ve tried for its price point. I’m always thrilled to see more companies like Gvibe making colorful, waterproof, body-safe, relatively affordable sex toys, and I’m glad I got to try these ones!

 

This review was sponsored. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.

Review: ZIOXX Freedom Plus Extra Large Condoms

Kate Sloan

When Zioxx told me they wanted me to review their condoms, I knew I had to wait until my partner was out of chastity – which, truth be told, hasn’t happened much lately. See, while I am their keyholder and can thus remove them from chastity any time I wish, including for brief and frustrating interludes, post-chastity (or mid-chastity) isn’t a great time to test condoms. A crucial part of reviewing a condom is assessing how well it transfers sensation, and my partner’s sensitivity gets turned up so much from time spent in chastity that they wouldn’t exactly be an objective reviewer.

So I unlocked them, we had sex, I went to sleep, they jerked off the following morning while I dozed (I’m not a morning person, okay?!), and presumably their dick returned to its normal level of sensitivity. That night, a dommy growl crept into their voice as they told me, “I’m going to get you off, and then I’m going to fuck you twice to test out those condoms.”

“Twice?” I asked.

“I’ll last longer the second time, so I’ll get more of a sense of what they actually feel like.” Their hypothesis was sound, and the plan went off without a hitch.

Zioxx had sent me their Freedom Plus Extra Large condoms. My partner’s dick is on the bigger side of the spectrum as far as people I’ve been with (in the neighborhood of 7.5″ long and 1.75″ wide), so I figured the standard size wouldn’t work for them.

As it turns out, even these “extra-large” condoms were a bit too small. This has often been my experience with condoms made in Asia (Zioxx is based in China) – for example, I had a more average-sized partner a few years back who found regular Kimono condoms distractingly tight. These Zioxx XL condoms are 7.09″ long – that’s about half an inch shorter than a standard Trojan, and nearly a full inch shorter than our usual go-to condoms, Trojan Magnums or Magnum XLs. The Zioxx ones have a width of 55mm, which is wider than a standard Trojan but 5mm smaller than a Magnum and 8mm smaller than a Magnum XL. Resultingly, my partner found the Zioxx condoms a little tight during application and removal, and had a slightly more difficult time staying hard due to the tightness.

Other than that, though, they didn’t have many complaints. The lube on these condoms, which is water-based and contains moisturizing hyaluronic acid (yes, the stuff that’s in your skincare), seems high-quality but is perhaps a bit too liberally applied – it dripped a little on both of us as I was guiding their cock into me the second time, but honestly, I’d prefer that over the pitifully small amount of lube many companies put on their condoms. Keep in mind, too, that being water-based, this lube likely won’t be enough on its own for anal, despite how much of it there is on each condom.

These are pretty low-scent and low-taste, always good qualities in a condom, IMO. They’re made of natural latex, so obviously avoid them if you have a latex allergy. The elegant black outer packaging looks nice on a nightstand. The individual packaging of the condoms themselves is a bit too untextured to consistently get a good grip on with lubey hands, but if your hands are dry, you should be able to tear ’em open without issue.

Sensation-wise, aside from the sizing issues, my partner noted that these condoms are smooth and thin, and have excellent heat transfer. The overabundance of lube sometimes made it difficult for them to achieve the amount of friction they wanted, but they were still able to come relatively easily both times we tried these.

There’s no mention on Zioxx’s website of whether or not these condoms are FDA-approved, but they do say that they won a sponsorship from the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation and that “each condom is 100% electronically tested” with “60 procedures of quality-control.” 🤷🏻‍♀️

Overall, aside from the sizing issues we experienced, these Zioxx Freedom Plus Extra Large condoms are pretty good. At $12.50 for a pack of 18, they’re also plenty more cost-effective than a lot of condoms out there. I guess you could say they were worth unlocking my partner’s chastity cage for.

 

This review was sponsored. As always, all writing and opinions are my own (and, of course, my partner’s).

Are “Makeshift” Sex Toys Safe to Use?

Kate Sloan
A cucumber that may or may not have been inside me at some point

There are a few classic questions that come to mind for me when I think about people who turn to sex educators for advice. “Why can’t my girlfriend come from penetration alone?” is one of them; “Does dick size matter?” is another. But here is the one I want to talk to you about today: “Can I use [xyz household object] as a sex toy?”

My initial knee-jerk response is a resounding “NO,” but if I want to be a bit more nuanced and detailed (like the people who wrote this guide to homemade male sex toys), I have to acknowledge that there are cases in which makeshift “sex toys” can be relatively safe to use. Generally, products actually made and marketed for that usage are safer and healthier (toxic jelly toys and “for novelty use only” monstrosities notwithstanding), but if you fantasize about using particular household objects for pleasure – or you face other barriers to accessing real sex toys, whether financial, privacy-based, or otherwise – you deserve to know how to use those objects as safely as possible. I’m not a doctor or a sex toy engineer and this is not official advice (don’t sue me!), but here’s what I know…

First of all, and most basic, you’re going to want to look for an object that is smooth. It depends on what you plan on using it for, of course, but generally, sharp seams and other pointy bits are to be avoided. You may be able to sand these down with sandpaper if you’re that committed to the cause.

Next, in an ideal world, you’d only use products made of non-porous materials, so they can be sanitized effectively and won’t accumulate bacteria over time. Glass, metal, hard plastic, and 100% silicone are all non-porous, and properly lacquered wood can be effectively non-porous even if the wood itself is not. A couple of the makeshift sex toys I used in my youth fit these criteria – one was a metal tube a friend had given me for my birthday that was designed for storing a single tampon in (?!), and one was the gently curved end of a hard plastic stereo remote control. The non-porosity of these materials meant I could clean them fairly easily with soap and water or a disinfectant wipe.

Many people are curious about using fruits or vegetables as sex toys. I understand the fascination – some of them have really beautiful and pleasurable-looking shapes! I also know this can be a cost-effective way to test out what kinds of toy shapes and sizes you’re into, especially since you can carve these treats however you like. (Were your eyes bigger than your vagina when you bought that giant cucumber? No problem, just whittle it down!) But if you plan on going this route, PLEASE wrap the item in a condom, at the very least. It’ll protect you from what’s on the surface of the toy, whether that be scratchy textures or pesticide remnants, and will lessen the likelihood of you getting an infection from stuffing yourself with produce. I learned the hard way that the plastic wrapping on some fruits and veggies is not a good enough barrier when I accidentally scratched up my insides with some tiny-yet-sharp protruding bits of plastic on a cucumber’s encasement. Just take the plastic off and replace it with a condom. And change the condom every time you reuse your “toy” thereafter, please!

“Put a condom on it” is actually good advice for a wide array of objects you could stick inside yourself. Given that even the actual sex toy industry isn’t regulated so not all products therein are actually body-safe, objects not made for that usage are even riskier. Whether you’re using a shampoo bottle, an electric toothbrush, or anything else, repeat after me: Put a condom on it!

Speaking of electricity… When it comes to putting electronics inside yourself, just say no. Toothbrushes are an odd example because they have to be moisture-resistant due to the nature of what they do, but even they are probably safest to use only externally, not internally. You don’t want to ruin your buzz (or your genitals) by accidentally zapping yourself mid-wank!

In addition, it’s my responsibility as a sex educator to tell you that you should not insert anything in your ass that doesn’t have a flared base. (Google “flared base butt plug” if you need a visual aid.) I also just generally wouldn’t recommend putting anything “makeshift” in your butt, because that area is more sensitive and more easily damaged than, say, a vagina or a penis, and it’s just not worth the risk, IMO.

Finally, please don’t fuck yourself with any items that other people in your household use, unless you have their explicit consent to do so. It doesn’t matter how clean you get it after you use it; it’s still a consent violation, and potentially a health and safety hazard, for other people who might encounter that object in your home later on.

Have you ever used a makeshift/homemade sex toy? How did it go?

 

This post was sponsored. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.