I Miss Going to Sex Shops

Kate Sloan
A selfie taken with Taylor J Mace at one of our local sex shops.

It’s a scary time for almost every type of business, but I’m especially worried about sex shops.

Right now, adult shops in Sydney and New York and Toronto and other metropolises with thriving sex-positive communities are faced with difficult daily questions, like: Should we stay open, offer only curbside pickup and delivery, or shut down completely? Are our sanitization procedures sufficient for the global health crisis we’re facing? Are we supporting our employees as best we can? Is all of this struggling even worth it?

I think it is, and I think most sex shop owners probably think that too. Many of the best sex shops in Melbourne, Los Angeles, Portland, etc. were founded by people who are passionate about sex toys, sure, but also about sex education. Sex shops function as hubs for community learning on topics like pleasure, anatomy, and even consent. I did more direct sex education work in my few months working at sex shops than I’ve done in entire years elsewhere in the sexuality field. I saw people’s eyes light up when they happened upon a new-to-them erotic possibility. I saw people’s excitement radiate off them as they sauntered out of the shop with a fresh sexy treat in a brown paper bag. I saw that this work transforms sex lives and also sometimes saves lives.

I miss sex shops not just as an employee but as a customer. I miss strolling into my local women-owned erotic boutique and being offered a cup of tea to sip as I shop – it reminds me of the very first time I went into that very sex store, when I was 16, and they sold me my first vibrator, no questions asked. I miss trying on lingerie in a fitting room while an attentive salesperson swans around outside, available for insight and advice as needed. I miss picking up a dildo I’ve had my eye on and getting an embodied sense of its size and weight that product pictures online just couldn’t convey. I miss smart salespeople offering tips and tricks for the vibrator I’m buying, life hacks I could take home to a partner for some revelatory fucking. Every sex shop is a treasure, and so are many of their employees.

What can you do to support your favorite adult stores in Sydney or Vancouver or Paris or wherever you live right now? You can order products from them online if they offer that – or if not, try calling them to see if they can arrange a curbside pickup or any other appropriately safe hand-off method. You can buy tickets for online classes or workshops they might be offering. You can refer friends to them, should you happen to know anyone who’s just run out of lube in quarantine or wants to use their lockdown period to try out a neat new sex toy. Hell, you can even buy a gift card to use once restrictions have eased up.

This pandemic is perilous for so many institutions, from New York’s healthcare system to Montreal’s restaurant business to, yes, Brisbane’s adult shops. I deeply hope these de facto sexual community centers can pull through, if just so that more people can discover and take charge of their sexualities, the way I started to when my first sex shop sold me my very first vibrator all those years ago.

 

This post was sponsored. As always, all writing and opinions are my own. For more info on this topic, read my friend Epiphora’s post!

My Top 5 Favorite Cocktails, & How to Make Them

Kate Sloan

You know… sometimes I refer to this website as a sex blog, but other times, I just think of it as a place where I celebrate my favorite things, many of which happen to be sex-related. Today I feel like talking about cocktails. Let’s dive in and drink up! (Unless you don’t drink, which is totally cool! My drinks-savvy partner recommends this book of mocktail recipes, and I’ve also tried Seedlip non-alcoholic spirits and think they are delicious.)

Gin Martini, Extra Dirty

I’ve had a lot of different martinis, and after much experimentation, this is my favorite one. Some people prefer a vodka martini, but I find gin more flavorful and more pleasant. Some people prefer a martini without vermouth, but (whispers conspiratorially) that’s not actually a martini, it’s just a chilled glass of gin or vodka. Finally, some people prefer their martinis with a lemon twist instead of olives, and with no brine, but I am a filthy girl with filthy tastes. Dirty gin martini it is! I love how the saltiness of the brine balances with the florality of the gin in this classic drink.

Ingredients:

  • 2 oz London dry gin (I like Bombay Sapphire)
  • 1 oz dry vermouth
  • 0.5 oz olive brine (or more, to taste)
  • 3 olives

Stir ingredients over ice in a mixing glass until very cold. Strain into a chilled martini glass. Garnish with olives on a cocktail pick.

Southside

I can’t think of a more refreshing cocktail than this one. It’s considered a classic, though it’s nonetheless obscure enough that many bartenders won’t know what the hell you’re talking about when you order it. However, luckily, it’s fairly easy to make at home.

Ingredients:

  • 2 oz London dry gin
  • 1 oz fresh-squeezed lime juice
  • 0.75 oz simple syrup
  • 8-12 mint leaves

Put the mint leaves and simple syrup into the bottom of a cocktail shaker and gently muddle them with a muddler, wooden spoon, or similar. Add gin, lime juice, and ice. Shake vigorously until the outside of the shaker is uncomfortably cold, and then double-strain into a coupe glass. Garnish with additional mint leaves.

Manhattan

Another classic. I like this one as an after-dinner drink to wind down the evening; it also pairs excellently with steak! I really like how the spices in the Angostura bitters add a satisfying richness to this boozy drink.

Please note that your vermouth needs to be fresh – many people don’t know that vermouth goes bad after a few months, so they keep using the same old bottle and then wonder why their drinks taste terrible. Toss that old bottle and get a fresh one!

Ingredients:

Add bourbon/rye, vermouth, bitters, and ice to a mixing glass. Stir until cold. Strain into a glass of your choosing, and garnish with the cherry on a cocktail pick.

Negroni

This is a refreshing, summery drink often associated with Italy. I can imagine sitting in a piazza somewhere, sipping this during an animated conversation over burrata and cacio e pepe. Yum.

My partner and I have also experimented with subbing in fino sherry for the sweet vermouth, which gives the drink a slightly nuttier, drier flavor. It’s delicious both ways!

Ingredients:

  • 1 oz gin
  • 1 oz Campari
  • 1 oz sweet vermouth
  • A twist of orange peel

Stir or shake the gin, Campari, and vermouth over ice. Serve on the rocks. Squeeze the orange peel over the drink to express the citrus oils, and then run it around the edge of the glass to add extra aromatics before dropping it into the drink as a garnish.

London Calling

This one’s a bit more unusual than the others on this list… Once I went to Civil Liberties and asked the bartender, Nick, if he had any limoncello. He didn’t, but he told me he would make me something that tasted kind of like limoncello. He came back a few minutes later with a London Calling and I immediately fell in love. The bright, tart fruitiness of the lemon juice blends beautifully with the dryness and minerality of the sherry. It’s a refreshing drink with a backbone.

Ingredients (according to Nick’s recipe; opinions vary on this):

  • 1.75 oz gin
  • 1 oz fresh-squeezed lemon juice
  • 0.75 oz simple syrup
  • 0.75 oz fino sherry
  • 4 dashes orange bitters
  • A twist of citrus peel

Shake gin, lemon juice, simple syrup, and sherry in a cocktail shaker with ice. Strain into a glass. Garnish with a twist of citrus peel (Nick suggests grapefruit).

What drinks are you enjoying lately?

Handbags in the Age of Coronavirus

Kate Sloan

Ever since the pandemic news got bad, I’ve lost almost all of my usual verve for fashion and beauty. Where once I would spend hours per month trawling the websites of beloved clothing and accessories makers, now I can barely bring myself to window-shop for new socks online even though mine are riddled with holes. I trudge through most days in stretched-out T-shirts and comfy lounge pants, my hair pulled back in a cursory nub of a bun, lipstickless and lethargic.

Part of the reason for all this is the obvious: no one is seeing my outfits (no one except my partner, my roommate, and her two cats, that is), so I feel less motivated to put them together. There is no one to infer things about me from what I have on, and in losing the motivation to perform my selfhood in this way, I’m also losing some of that selfhood itself.

Another component of my sartorial disinterest is due to plain ol’ depression and grief. What we’re going through right now, as a species, is traumatic on scales we have yet to fully comprehend. I know from past experience that immense, bone-deep sadness causes my materialistic impulses to either ramp up significantly as a distraction tactic, or to drop off completely in a blaze of nihilism. Lately I’m oscillating between both extremes, but mostly landing on the latter.

However, there is still one category of fashion item that tugs at my femme heartstrings and makes my world feel a little brighter, and that’s handbags. Purses. Satchels. Totes. I ogle the Kate Spade and Coach websites in spare moments. I comb through eBay listings with keen-yet-weary eyes. I take great pleasure in ogling my extant handbag collection – though I rarely touch any of them these days.

That’s the root cause of this, I have to imagine: the lack of need for a bag at this time in history. I can throw on cute outfits galore in the confines of my apartment, and even clomp around in heels I’d never or rarely wear out into the world, but carrying a bag in those instances feels totally unnecessary and impractical. What, am I gonna tuck a petite clutch under my arm for the journey from the bedroom to the kitchen? Slide a crossbody strap over one shoulder for a jaunt to the garbage chute down the hall? I think not.

Even when I go out, I don’t have much use for bags now. More often than not, I’m just going on a quick errand or a meandering walk. I’ll cram my phone into the back pocket of my jeans (I rarely have the emotional energy for skirts and dresses these days), slip my keys into the front one, and maybe bring along a credit card or some cash if I plan on wandering to the shops. With a fabric mask on, I find it’s hard to do anything detail-oriented that lies below my sightline, so rummaging through a bag like I might normally do is impractical and sometimes even painful. (Anyone else find themselves constantly getting poked in the eye by their masks, through some strange contortion of facial muscles and eyeballs?!)

The increasing pointlessness of handbags, the frivolity and complexity of lifestyle that they hearken back to and that contrasts so sharply with my current involuntarily pared-down life, somehow makes them more appealing to me rather than less. They’re a useless luxury object at the moment, sure. But they’re also a window into my future, a future of normalcy regained, a future of getting dressed up and having somewhere to go.

The ritual of packing my pretty purse before an outing is often ceremonious and always important. Solo dates, especially, require preparation in this arena: I’ll fill a piece of lovely leather with my journal and pen so I can reflect on my feelings in a café window, or a loaded-up Kindle so I can spend time with beloved fictional characters at a cocktail bar, or a pair of glasses so I can see a theatrical cast’s every facial expression from the nosebleed seats. I’ll check to make sure I have my ID incase of booze, and my earbuds incase of boredom. I’ll throw in some gum or mints if there’s romance on the horizon. I’ll check the contents of my wallet to see how much merriment I can afford to make. It’s a femme ritual that feels like writing the blueprint of my outing before it even begins. The contents of my bag guide me on my journeys; the bag itself may as well be cute.

I haven’t actually purchased any new bags during this time period, for reasons you can probably guess: it feels unnecessary, I’m trying to keep an eye on my finances, and there are so many better ways I could and should direct my cash during this crisis. But I doubt I’ll stop staring at the kelly-green Marc Jacobs totes and lemon-yellow Coach satchels any time soon. They give me solace, and glee, and something to look forward to: a life that’s once again worth packing a bag for.

Mini Reviews: BeOne, Carter, & Star Delight

Kate Sloan

Time for some short reviews to catch up on my sex toy queue! Here are some toys I’ve been testing recently…

The Fun Factory Be-One caught my attention immediately when I spotted it at ANME, because 1) a new Fun Factory toy! yay! and 2) it looked like it might work well for someone with chronic pain in their hands, like me. So I asked Fun Factory to send me one, and blessedly, they did. It’s a rechargeable vibrator designed such that you can grip it between two fingers without the need for a lot of muscle strength or flexibility. The silicone-covered tip of the toy curves downward, so it can make good contact with my clit even on days when my fingers or wrists aren’t cooperating.

That ease of use on bad pain days is, for me, the major selling point of this toy – but there are others, too. It’s waterproof. It’s small enough to fit between bodies easily during penetrative sex. It’s made of non-porous and hypoallergenic silicone and plastic. It comes with a cute, hard plastic storage case, shaped somewhat like a computer mouse, which (especially paired with the toy’s travel lock function) makes me feel much more confident it won’t thrum to life in my suitcase, if and when we’re ever allowed to fly again. Its one button, which you can use to cycle through the toy’s four steady speeds and one “flirty” pattern mode, protrudes and lights up so it’s easy to both see and feel in the heat of the moment (you would not believe how many vibrators get this very important thing wrong).

Crucially, the Be-One has two motors (TWO!) packed into its tiny body, so it’s more powerful than you would expect for a vibe of this size. The dual motor situation also makes the Be-One’s vibrations feel rumblier than Fun Factory’s previous clit vibe offerings; it’s almost like the vibrations are bouncing back and forth from one motor to another at a very high speed. This is no Tango, but I’d pick it over something buzzier like the Lelo Mia or Jimmyjane Form 2 any day. My picky clit can orgasm fairly easily with the Be-One, albeit with a bit of grinding/rubbing/circling added to the mix.

Fun Factory says that with the Be-One, “once it’s in place, you really don’t have to think about it anymore,” and unfortunately that isn’t really true because of where the control button is situated. It’s on top of the toy, a spot I can’t reach when the vibe is positioned between my fingers as advertised. When I want to change the vibration speed, I have to either pause what I’m doing to hit the button with my other hand, or reposition the toy in my hand so I can reach the button – which sort of negates the comfort of its design. However, this is a pretty minor issue (for my particular body, anyway), and overall I think Fun Factory did great with the Be-One. It’s a cute and compact vibrator with two lovely motors, and I think it’ll make a lot of people happy.

The New York Toy Collective Carter was an anniversary gift from my very thoughtful partner. Mine is turquoise and pink, because I love those colors, but it’s also available in various skin tones, a gorgeous teal, and some other shades.

I became interested in this dildo when I read my friend Epiphora’s review of it, in which she says that she squirts every time she uses the Carter. I mean… sounds pretty good to me! Sinclair Sexsmith once called the Carter their “desert-island dildo,” and they know their shit when it comes to strap-ons. I was also curious about this toy because, while the Godemiche Ambit has been my go-to pegging dildo for years, occasionally my partner wants something bigger. With its chunky 2″ diameter and comfortable dual-density silicone, the Carter certainly fits the bill.

However, so far I haven’t used the Carter for pegging purposes, because, y’know, butts are fickle and you can’t rush this stuff. I have, however, gotten fucked with it numerous times, and it’s lovely. Its 7.5″ insertable length allows it to reach my A-spot, and its pronounced coronal ridge can also stroke my G-spot with every thrust. That said, if you’re looking for a dildo to target a specific spot, I don’t think this is the right one; it’s more of a blunt instrument, best for days when you really just wanna be filled up and fucked, rather than having particular internal spots satisfied with the exacting precision of something like a Pure Wand or a Seduction. The Carter, like many New York Toy Collective dildos, has a flexible core that allows you to bend the dildo into a curve that suits you, but I’ve found this feature more useful for visual purposes (e.g. posing for strap-on selfies) than for actual fucking, because my vag tends to straighten out the dildo in short order.

This isn’t the sort of dildo that leaves me breathless or weeping after an orgasm, like the Eleven or Double Trouble can. But it’s squishy enough to be comfortable for longer fucks (assuming you keep the lube flowin’), and it looks fantastic in a strap-on. New York Toy Collective is a fabulous, queer-owned company that makes gorgeous dicks and gender affirmation products; I’m happy to support them in any way I can, especially since doing so involves telling you that you absolutely deserve a stunning and satisfying dildo like the Carter.

I bought myself a Crystal Delights Star Delight dildo in late 2018 and have somehow never gotten around to reviewing it at length here. It’s gotta be one of the prettiest dildos in my collection: clear glass, with an aqua-colored gem set into the base. It can be easy to lose yourself in the quasi-hypnotic act of examining it from all angles.

This, I feel, is a good dildo for a lazy masturbator like me. The bumpy texture all along the shaft ensures you get plenty of stimulation with minimal movement and effort. The girth – 1.4″ at its widest – is slim enough that you may not need to warm up before inserting it, especially if you pair it with a good lube (and being made of glass, it pairs well with any type of lube). I can rest the heel of my hand against the base of the Star Delight and gently rock it against my A-spot without needing to think about it or work too hard. The base is unobtrusive enough that I can easily use a vibe with this dildo, and the firmness of the glass makes orgasms with it extra intense.

That low-profile base is also one of the reasons the Star Delight works so well for me during oral sex. It’s become a favorite for my partner to insert while they’re going down on me, because it allows them to stroke my A-spot with the delicious firmness I like, while also attending to my clit. Very few dildos can actually pull this off – most feel awkward for the giver, the receiver, or both – so I’m thrilled to have found one that works reliably well for this purpose. As my partner noted in an earlier blog post, the texture of the dildo is not only stimulating for me but also helps keep the toy anchored in place during oral sex, so they can focus more fully on what their mouth is doing.

My only issue with the Star Delight – aside from the $100+ price tag, about which I can only say, wait for a sale if you can – is that the bumps make it a bit tricky to clean. I usually have to scrub around each bump individually with an old toothbrush or somesuch. But overall this dildo is versatile, useful, and pleasurable – practically everything I want a dildo to be.

Things I Hope to Do When This is All Over

Kate Sloan

Here’s a fun and dreamy exercise for the coronavirus era. Open up a new document in your notes app of choice, or turn to a blank page in your journal. Make a list titled “things to do when this is all over.” Then let your imagination transport you to a happier place and time in the future.

“This” being “all over” is sort of a nebulous concept at this point, but in my case, I’m choosing to imagine that daydreamy future as one in which a safe and effective vaccine has been developed and distributed around the world, and we can once again walk around outside and gather in groups and go to places (remember places?!) without needing to worry that we’re endangering others or ourselves. What will you do when things go “back to normal” – or when we move into a hopefully new-and-improved definition of normalcy? Here’s what I’m excited to do once we kick COVID to the curb…

  • Hug my friends and family for as long as they consent to be hugged.
  • Go to a cocktail bar alone, with just my Kindle to keep me company. Sip excellent drinks, make small-talk with the bartenders from time to time, and revel in the cheery din of my fellow bar-goers.
  • Curl up on the couch in my parents’ basement and watch a movie with my family – probably a Billy Wilder classic.
  • Go to La Banane (one of my favorite restaurants here in Toronto) and eat an extravagant platter of oysters and shrimp cocktail while swilling martinis and laughing with my love.
  • Sit in the front row at the Bad Dog Theatre and see an improv show.
  • Go on a long, meandering walk through the city while listening to podcasts. Stop into any stores that seem cool and take a look around.
  • Have group sex again, in some configuration, or just sex in front of a modest crowd at a sex club. In the meantime, there’s always VR porn and Zoom orgies. (It cracks me up that one of the most popular VR porn sites is called BaDoinkVR. Can I just start shouting “BaDoink!” every time I touch a partner’s genitals, like some kind of pornographic slapstick foley artist?!)
  • Visit the art gallery, the Royal Ontario Museum, the aquarium.
  • Show up an hour or so before the curtain at the Young Centre for the Performing Arts, dressed to the nines for a solo date. Order a sandwich and a pint at the lobby café, and sit there quietly reading until they open the house. Take a program from the usher, find my seat amongst polite older couples and rowdy art-school teenagers, and read about the cast, crew, and creative vision of the production.
  • Walk around a big grocery store buying excessively fancy ingredients, which I will later assemble into an extravagant meal.
  • Sit on a patio sipping a beer and writing.
  • Walk around a Sephora, testing various lipsticks on the back of my hand until I find one I absolutely must own.
  • Get on a plane to New York. Stare out the little window at the big city as it unfolds below me. Walk off the plane half-dazed into the wonderful mediocrity of LaGuardia, and get into a yellow taxi.
  • Swim in a pool or a lake or an ocean or even just a hot tub.
  • Decide, on a whim, to ask someone who seems to want to kiss me, “Do you want to kiss me?” and, if so, let them.
  • Go to a burlesque show; hoot and holler when the dancers cast off their clothes.
  • Get a pedicure or a Brazilian wax or a massage or some other treatment where a careful, skilled person helps me feel better in my body. Tip them well!
  • Walk into a darkened movie theatre with a bag of popcorn and a box of peanut M&Ms. Settle into some good seats and watch something silly.
  • Attend a standing-room-only concert – maybe Andy Shauf or Carly Rae Jepsen or Tegan and Sara – and let the crowd throw me around a little as we all dance in place.
  • Sit in Trinity Bellwoods Park with some friends, smoking joints and telling stories.
  • Attend an industry tradeshow and marvel at the latest sex toys to hit the market. Leave with armfuls of lube samples and product pamphlets.
  • Visit my book editors in London or my literary agent in New York or both. Break bread (metaphorically or literally) with these strong, creative women I am proud to be working with.
  • Walk around a mall for hours, shopping for a dress to wear to some special occasion.
  • Eventually, tell my kids (?!) – or somebody’s kids, anyway – about what happened in 2020.

What are you looking forward to doing, once we’re able to do things again?

 

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