archives
Friday, January 25, 2008
I'm Picking Up Good Vibrations
Gloria Estefan had it right when she cooed, “the rhythm is gonna get’cha.” Now I don’t know that I would use her songs with my brand new OhMiBod, but she certainly captures my sentiment. OhMiBod is one of the most innovative vibrators I have ever seen. With a simple adaptor (included), it connects to any iPod, mp3 player or portable CD player and vibrates right along with, “The Rhythm of the Night” or any other song on your playlist.
The first thing that caught my eye about the OhMiBod, is its fabulous styling. In fact, I haven’t yet been able to bring myself to throw away the box because it is so darn pretty. As its name suggests, the clean, simple, design is certainly reminiscent of Apple’s iPod and makes OhMiBod seem like any other iPod accessory – any super-girly iPod accessory, that is. The sleek design has landed OhMiBod spots in hip stores such as Fred Segal in Los Angeles and Ricky’s in New York City. Its clean packaging helps to make it an ideal crossover brand.
Like the packaging, the vibrator itself is also simple and elegant in its design. It is all white and metallic, much like many an iPod. It even has an alternate endcap that turns OhMiBod into a plain ol’ vibe for those quickies that don’t require mood music. While I really appreciate the clean design, I was a little disappointed in the execution. The endcap is actually plastic coated in metallic paint rather than metal. I worry enough about my nails chipping; I don’t want to have to think about my vibrator losing paint (especially not inside of me). While I realize that this design probably makes the OhMiBod cheaper in price, it also makes it cheaper in appearance. Additionally, the smooth white plastic was not completely smooth; there is an injection molding sink mark, or dimple, at the top of my vibe that I could not clean-out completely after use. Because of this, OhMiBod may have to wear a condom next time. Safe sex for everyone!
Ok, down to the nitty-gritty. It was so much fun to play with music and vibration, that I found myself giggling a bit (not in an, “I am embarrassed, and I can’t believe I’m sticking this inside me kind of way,” but in a “Oooh, wow, that is so fun,” kind of way). As someone who dances regularly, I found using OhMiBod to be a little like dancing with a partner – a partner who didn’t miss a beat. I had fun experimenting with different types of music as the vibration frequency and quality changed with each song. I recommend songs with a strong, pulsing baseline. I also really enjoyed my blues playlist… yummy! The one frustration here was that different songs required different levels of volume in order to get the vibe humming. I also found that sometimes in order to get the level of vibration I wanted, I had to turn up the volume a bit more than is normally comfortable for my ears.
Overall, OhMiBod is a classy vibrator. Its simple design and clear instructions make it very user friendly; I was up and humming in no time. In keeping with their techie theme, OhMBod has a pretty cool integrated website. The site sells related “Acsexsories,” allows users to share comments, and even took me to the iTunes store to purchase a playlist that another user had posted.
OhMiBod is already expanding their line to include other exciting gadgets such as the OhMiBod Gspot, and a softskin pink sleeve that fits over the original OhMiBod. I am hoping those clever folks might work in some more clitoral stimulation in the not-too-distant future (please?). OhMiBod is my favorite new toy. Not only do I have fun with it personally, but I like to think of it as frontrunner in the movement of sex toys from the gutter to Fifth Avenue. It certainly does more than its fair share both in the bedroom and in the struggle to bring vibrators into the realm of social acceptability. Rock on!
Monday, January 21, 2008
"There are no new stories..."
Remember that episode of South Park when the kids realized that every storyline they wanted to explore had already been done by The Simpsons? Yeah... I am relating. I am so blown away by all of the talented women sharing their stories online, that sometimes I think, "Why the heck am I doing this?" I can't possibly have anything new to offer. Besides, The Simpsons probably did it better in the first place. That darned Lisa -- always thinkin' of everything!After I bathe myself in a bit of frustration, I step back and try to be thankful for what is. How cool is it that I get to read what so many talented, interesting, experienced women have to say? How lucky am I that I live in a world where such words are starting to proliferate and become more accepted? It's pretty darned cool, and I'm pretty darned lucky.
So why am I continuing to write? Why not just read the clever musings of others? Because I am a selfish bitch. I want to write more. I want to learn more. I want to explore more ideas. I want to do this for me. Maybe someone else has talked about it before. Maybe my point has already been made more eloquently, but it's still my point. I still thought it and felt it and needed to splurt it all out in words, even if Lisa said it first somewhere else.
So while I am getting my bearings I say thank you to all of you badass women who are already speaking your minds at full throttle. You inspire and excite me and make me want to be better. Thanks.
Labels: rant
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Zippity Doo Dah!
I am zipping right along the show floor downstairs with all the venders at AEE, when I am stopped in my tracks by a zippy little bag. My first thought is that someone is selling cute knock-off designer purses downstairs, too, but upon closer inspection, I learn I couldn’t be more wrong. Vera Worthington and her company, For Your Nymphomation, make the most fabulous, totally not knocked-off, bags to satisfy all of your sexy storage needs.
Complete with signature glow-in-the-dark zipper pullers and FAA approved locks, this line can keep all your “pleasureables” neatly stowed until ready for use. Worthington, who worked for years in the mainstream fashion industry designing purses, has a storage solution for just about everyone. Her clients run the gambit, from stay-at-home-moms who do pleasure parties on the side to BDSM divas who need a place to store a myriad of floggers. Worthington has listened to her fans and expanded her line (and her cases) to meet their needs. She’s got all your bases covered, from cute beaded condom cases and the adorable, yet functional, Dominatrix Bag to larger items like the Flogger Trunk and the suitcase-sized Rolling Toy Trunk.
Worthington’s line is fantastically functional. Each of her Toy Boxes comes fully lined with water-resistant, washable nylon. While this storage system obviously appeals to my inner sex-freak, it also appeals to my inner neat-freak. The nylon case linings are replete with elastic strips and pouches to hold toys of all kinds. Larger cases, like the Rolling Toy Trunk, have additional inserts available to maximize storage capacity and orderliness.
While her organizational skills are top notch, it is Worthington’s panache that makes For Your Nympomation so fantastic. Not that anyone would ever store her goodies in a clear, plastic storage container from Target, but…. well, let’s just say my collection was happy to move into one of Worthingtons’s stylish purple Adult Toyboxes. Her cases come in a variety of colors from plain ol’ black to leopard spots, and they are all made of high quality faux leather and fur so that even vegan vixens can feel confident in this storage solution. Worthington even offers swanky add-ons like rhinestone-studded padlocks.
Instead of being relegated to a shameful cardboard box under the bed or on the very top shelf of the closet, For Your Nymphomation has elevated “pleasurables” to the position they deserve. Finally, there is a stylish and secure storage solution for all of those goodies you may not want to share with your house-sitter, your mover, or your two year-old. For Your Nymphomation securely shields these secrets in an oh-so-sexy way.
Labels: review
Monday, January 14, 2008
Finding a Home at AEE
The Adult Entertainment Expo (AEE) is divided into two rooms. Upstairs in the Sands Convention Center in Las Vegas, there is a large room dedicated to all of the porn studios. Loud music blares from various booths and images of naked women scream from prominently perched televisions. This part of the show is also open to fans during certain hours, so the loud noises and images are further amplified while throngs of oglers stop in their tracks to stare and have various pieces of anatomy and articles of clothing signed by a wide variety of porn stars. This part of the show is always a little overwhelming for me. I find myself wandering towards the back of the room where I can admire customized photo bed sheets and knock-off Gucci handbags. While I am mesmerized by all the sights and sounds, I feel a bit out of place here; I am wearing jeans over my g-string, and my small breasts are, quite obviously, lacking in the silicone department.Downstairs is my oasis. Downstairs is why I go to this show in the first place: The B2B Market Place. Here, various vendors and creators of adult novelties show their wares (yes, sometimes underwears, too). When I first attended AEE two years ago, it took me a while to find this special place, but once I did, I didn’t want to leave. This year I made sure to give myself plenty of time to wander from booth to booth and explore all of the exciting products.
When I think about my preference for sex toys and novelties to actual pornographic media, I think of my mother. My mom worked as a preschool teacher for some time, and she was always decrying the evils of television and movies. She argued that with a book a child could imagine the level intensity and violence that he personally could handle. TV and film, on the other hand, presented those images fully developed and outside of the child’s control. I hate to agree with my mother, but maybe she had a point; it suits me better to use my imagination than to be bombarded by a myriad of provocative images that are often beyond me. This certainly doesn’t apply to everything I saw upstairs at AEE, and I will review some of the happy exceptions over the next few days.
I will also review some of the very exciting new products that I was thrilled to encounter in the B2B Market Place. I am giddy with the thought of all of the novel goods that are now available. How lucky we are to be living in a time of such unprecedented innovation. These are not your mothers’ vibrators! Stay tuned; more to come...
Labels: pornography, toys
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Like a Kid in a Candy Store
Today I strolled the halls of the Adult Entertainment Expo in Las Vegas. Despite sleeping very little last night in order to catch an early flight, I felt awake and invigorated. I couldn’t wipe the ridiculous grin from my face as I wandered from booth to booth; how wonderfully refreshing it was to talk to people openly and honestly about sex and to hear plans for a brighter future for this industry.Today I embraced a former prostitute and fondled a man’s condom-covered... hand to admire the thinness of the latex. And I don’t think I blushed.
Admittedly, it took me a little while to adjust to all of the visual stimulation. It was kind of like when I need to blink for a few minutes upon exiting a theater after a matinee; there is just so much input, my brain has to adjust. So I am adjusting, and enjoying, and collecting stories to share. More to come soon.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
A Low-Down Dirty Shame
Today, without blushing, I pole danced in front of my father. In the pole-dancing studio where I take classes, some women don’t even tell their husbands what happens in class… or even that they are taking class in the first place. I told my gynecologist, my former colleagues from the grammar school where I taught fourth grade, and my neighbors. I couldn’t keep my big, fat, pole-dancing mouth shut.
When my mom wanted to learn a few moves, I confidently pointed her in the right direction, and helped her take her first spins around the pole. I bought my sister a class. Today, as I was spinning around the pole demonstrating my cool moves for my mother and sister, my father walked in. While I hadn’t intended to dance in front of him, I decided to be okay with it. Perhaps a few years ago, or even a few months ago, this wouldn’t have been my reaction. I haven’t always felt this comfortable with my sexuality, and I still have growing to do.
I remember being in the seventh grade and having my first “boyfriend” and thinking that I could never get married, because then I would have to admit to my parents that I liked boys and, worse yet, that I liked touching them and being touched by them; the horrors! Why would anyone ever admit such a thing to her parents? I certainly knew I never would. What has changed?
When I was a teenager and had sex for the first time, I was torn between wanting desperately to tell my mother and wanting to take that secret with me to the grave. My mother, a woman of the sixties, guessed my news, and timidly asked me if we ought to install mirrors on my ceiling. My reaction is best summed-up by my dueling thoughts: “Ma-aaa-aaah-aam! How could you say such a thing?” and “Oh, by the way, yes, what a great idea!”
I am married now. Every night I sleep in the same bed with my husband. When my parents came to visit us this past weekend, they knew full well that I went to bed each night with my husband. I didn’t feel the need to hide my affection for him. I have, I suppose, grown into my sexuality as I have aged. While I couldn’t even imagine admitting that Jason Katchum was my boyfriend when I was twelve, I, now freely, disclose my status as a married woman, and, before that, as a single woman who liked men. I think, and hope, that most women have achieved this level of comfort with their sexuality. Some, however, have not. I have a friend who, perhaps stuck in seventh grade, felt embarrassed while she was pregnant because she knew it meant that everyone knew what she had done to get into that “shameful” state. She was forty and married at the time.
Why do so many of us continue to be embarrassed about our sexuality?
Sex is part of life. More specifically, sex is the reason (most likely) that we are all alive. It would never cross my mind to be ashamed of breathing. And yet, I have struggled with feeling shame because I like sex. Eleanor Roosevelt said, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” Well, isn’t that applicable to shame as well?
When I was about seven, I was invited to dinner a neighbor kid’s house. After dinner, Mrs. Potter served ice cream which, as I did on the rare occasions I was served ice cream at home, I happily mashed into a delicious ice cream stew (I didn’t have the patience for full-blown soup). After my ice cream was transformed into liquid-y chocolate goo, I picked-up my bowl and drank it.
Although I was oblivious to it at the time, the Potters were horrified. All four of the Potter children and the Potter mom and dad looked right at me, rubbed their right index fingers over their left and chided, in sing-songy unison, “Shame, shame, shame!” Well, I, quite literally, knew no shame. While I had learned manners at home, drinking out of bowls was not something I’d been taught to avoid. I mean, please! My mom served miso soup with tofu which, our Japanese exchange students taught us, is customarily sipped straight from the bowl. I still remember looking around at all the Potter children and the Potter mom and dad and thinking, “This is great! I have all of their attention. I must be doing something pretty special for all of them to be looking at me. Shucks! Lemme do that again.” Like many who attempt to use shame to illicit “proper behavior,” none of the Potters wanted to come right out and say what I was doing wrong, and their “subtlety” was lost on me. Man, was that a good night: sugar and an attentive audience. A girl could scarcely ask for more.
Looking back on this incident, I realize that people who try to shame other people are often trapped by their own embarrassment or shame. If we choose not to feel shame for our actions, specifically those not shame-worthy, such as breathing and enjoying orgasms and the like, those trying to administer the shame will be hard-pressed to do so, and likely will lack the courage to come right out and say what they are really thinking. Why give them the power? Why let them control our actions and our desires? Instead, why not look them right in the eye and dance on a pole, or smooch our lovers, or drink our ice cream?
Shame is a choice, and it would be a shame to feel it when it is undeserved.
Labels: rant
Happy 2008!
Welcome and salutations! It has come to my attention that I ought to mention why I am here and what I am about. Basically, I am here to say, "Yippee! Sex is a great thing that should be celebrated rather than scorned." I am here to shine lights and share sex-positive thoughts and musings. I am here to further develop my own ideas and learn from those inclined to share theirs. Thanks for reading. Please feel free to post a comment or drop me a line should you have something you'd like to share.archives
