Dame is an interesting company, from the perspectives of sex toy design, marketing, and even feminism. They made waves earlier this year when they sued New York’s public transit system for refusing to let them hock their wares in subway ads, despite the MTA previously running ads for erectile dysfunction pills. Dame decried the company’s sexism, sex-negativity, and suppression of free speech. In the end, even if the MTA hampered Dame’s sales by limiting their publicity venues, the toymakers recouped some of that publicity by launching this very public lawsuit. The media largely painted them as feminist heroes, fighting against patriarchs and puritans.
Whether or not that’s totally true – I have a hard time accepting that corporations, mired in destructive capitalism as they are, can truly be said to be ethical no matter their values – Dame is certainly doing some interesting things. Their marketing is colorful and friendly-looking, as are their toys. I hated their first release, the bug-like Eva, because it refused to stay put and its buzzy motor annoyed my clit, but Dame took customer feedback into account and got to work making more effectual toys. Now their lineup is wider, cuter, and better than ever.
The toy of theirs I chose to review, when offered, was the lemon-yellow Kip, a clitoral vibrator that fits neatly in the palm of your hand. With its flat, tilted tip, it reminded me of the We-Vibe Tango, one of the best clit vibes ever created. I was interested to see whether Dame’s newer offerings could push them into the top tier of toymakers, adored and coveted alongside the likes of Fun Factory and Lelo. Astonishingly, based on this toy, I think they are well on their way.
The Kip immediately sets itself apart from most high-end clitoral vibes currently on the market, by a) being bright yellow and b) having both an “increase speed” button and a “decrease speed” button. I admire Dame’s bravery in creating a toy in a color outside the standard ones for “women’s” sex toys; any departure from staid pinks and purples in the sex toy industry is much-appreciated. The buttons, however, have actual functional importance. They let you adjust the toy’s vibrations more specifically and intuitively than vibes that have only one button for cycling through all their modes, like the Tango. Since I tend to move up and down in vibration speed several times in any given session, this feature is crucial for me, and often a major strike against toys that lack it.
The shape of the vibe, too, is rather unique. While it does have the flat, pointed tip I associate with the Tango, on the Kip it’s not so much flat as ever-so-slightly concave, allowing it to gently cup your clit. The pointed edge has some softness and squish to it, so that during use, it flutters back and forth like a tiny tongue. What with all the different surfaces and edges on this toy, and the way its vibrations are distributed, it’s very versatile and can please people who like pinpoint clit stimulation as well as something a little broader.
In my hand, the Kip feels substantial enough to seem well-built and high-quality, but light and slight enough to fit easily into my hand during sex or my handbag for sexy outings. It charges magnetically and holds its charge for several sessions. It can stand upright on my nightstand and looks great doing so.
But let’s talk about the motor, since that’s what really matters in a vibrator. The Kip’s motor is wonderful. It rumbles and thrums. It’s satisfying at each of the toy’s 5 steady speeds (I use all 5 regularly). It’s not quite Tango-level, and it can’t exactly compete with your jackhammer-esque wands, but for a vibe of its size and price point ($85!), it’s entirely respectable. Dame came to play, y’all.
It’s even fairly quiet, at least on the bottom three speeds. The top two would likely arouse suspicion if someone else was in the room with you, but certainly couldn’t be heard through a door like many other vibes of this strength.
So here’s the thing: the Tango is only $79, six dollars less than the Kip. If you’re deciding which one of these two toys to buy – which you might reasonably do, given their similarities in quality, size, shape, and price point – you should make your decision based on two key factors: vibrations, and ease of use. The Tango tops out with stronger vibrations than the Kip – but the Kip’s speeds remain consistently rumbly, while the Tango starts to get a little buzzier on its highest speed. As for ease of use, the Tango’s one and only button must be used to cycle through all eight of its patterns and speeds every time you want to switch to a different one, while the Kip’s vibrations can be adjusted much more easily via its up and down buttons.
There are other factors too, of course: the Tango will fit into other toys that have a slot for bullet-sized vibes, while the Kip will not; the Kip has a travel lock, which the Tango does not; the Tango’s tip is narrower and marginally firmer; the Tango’s battery is known to die after a while (I’ve heard anywhere from 1-3 years; mine have typically lasted about 2 years each), while I’ve heard no such rumors about the Kip (yet). It’s a very close call, and honestly I don’t know that I have a strong opinion either way. I’m likely to use both of these vibrators regularly for as long as I own them (and as long as they remain functional).
I hope the MTA finally lets Dame advertise their toys, because more people need to know about the Kip.
Thanks to Dame for sending me this vibe to review!
A lot of people have been asking me to weigh in on whether the Moxie is worth the $129 price tag, and I think the crux of that question is whether or not you need pressure on your clit. If you don’t, and light vibration on your bits is all you need – and/or if you don’t like penetration – the Moxie will probably work just fine. But if you want penetration and/or you need pressure on your clit, you should 
Let me tell you about the dial, because it’s a big fucking deal. The vast majority of wand vibrators – and indeed, vibrators in general – have buttons (or sometimes, infuriatingly, just one button) which you use to navigate through the various speeds and settings. This system probably works fine for most people, but my clit is easily numbed and easily overstimulated, so sometimes a too-big jump between speeds can desensitize or overload my bits before I even realize what’s happened. I almost always wish I had more granular control over vibration strength. With Bodywand, I finally fucking do.
My partner likes a lot of things about the Loki: the pretty blue color, the excellent motor, the many varying speeds, the prostate-targeting shape, the travel lock, the silky silicone, and the size, which he describes as “really, really perfect: don’t need a lot of warmup but feels full.”
With all that in mind, I was ready to write this vibe off, but then I tried the dual-stimulation attachment. It’s got a big swollen G-spot head, a slim tapered shaft, and a little ridged nub that’s supposed to sit on your clit. I found, to my surprise, that this attachment works really well for my body: it lines up just right with both my G-spot and clit at the same time, which is a feat in itself, and it strikes a good balance between firmness and squishiness and between broadness and slimness for my particular G-spot. The buzzy vibrations feel less annoying when they’re inside; my G-spot evidently likes buzziness more than my clit does, because I was actually able to squirt with this toy by thrusting it while the vibrations were on. Neat!