Dear Suey, I'm just getting out of a long-term relationship,
and I need a break from men. I'd like to buy a dildo, but
I'm very shy. Got any suggestions?
--The Girl with Sweaty Palms
Dear Girl, I first experimented with vegetables,
in private, without telling anyone. It wasn't my idea--the
inspiration came from Betty Dodson's Sex for One.
Carrots worried me a little (too sugary), and cucumbers
seemed like a bother to peel down to size. Zucchinis seemed
like a better fit, and they have an earthy green skin, which
appeals to my sense of romance.
Ultimately, though, I didn't like the idea of using a food
item on myself. I was usually in the throes of some erotic
fantasy before I decided to get something out of the refrigerator;
my poor dildo would be freezing cold. And then what are
you supposed to do with a zucchini after you're done with
it? Throw it into the garbage? Chop it up into stir fry?
I would be horrified to treat a human lover that way. The
zucchini-penis-dinner-lover crossed too many categories;
it made me really nervous.
I could have tried to get used to this; instead I bought
a dildo.
Buying your first tampon, condom or dirty magazine or getting
your first Pap smear can embarrassingly "out" you, a responsible
credit-card holder, as a sexual human being. We adore our
privacy and indulge in our own guilty version of the "don't
ask, don't tell" policy every day. But sometimes sex can't
be segregated into a neatly partitioned master-bedroom wing
of the ranch-style Beaverton tract home. Sometimes sex is
politics. It's commerce; it's public. Sometimes sex involves
hanging out in a store on Burnside and making small talk
with strangers who prefer that you pay in cash.
So you're a dildo virgin? Perhaps you have strengthened
your resolve by reconceptualizing dildos as a revolutionary
tool of female self-liberation, and your own fascination
has been gussied up as sociological "research." Yet you
can't help imagining that the first time someone opens the
sanitary glass case and plops an erect-penis replica into
your quaking hands, you will instantly drop the thingy to
the floor, where the rubberized toy will go bounding across
the carpet like some insane dog chew, gathering lint and
rug fuzz as it rolls along. Then you have to buy the thing.
Well, so what? The first time is a little awkward for everyone.
If you're a little embarrassed about your sexuality, well,
isn't that society's fault?
I think first-time buyers simply need a gentle and educational
introduction. Dildo selection basics are the easy part,
so let's start with them:
Size: An inexpensive rubber dildo costs about as
much as dinner and a movie or a good sports bra--you can
probably afford to take home a couple of new dates. To avoid
frustration, I think it's a good idea to start with something
a little smaller than what you think is your ideal; later,
you can experiment with girth and length.
Shape: If you have snoopy kids or roommates, you
might go with abstraction over neo-realism. Otherwise, dildos
are available in a wide variety of shapes, textures, colors
and looks. Curves are for reaching the G-spot; bendable
dildos are suited to unique handholds; some dildos allow
you to attach vibrators, and so forth.
Cleaning: You can bathe most dildos in antibacterial
soap, but be warned--rubber is naturally porous, and you
can't really sterilize it. To be safe, use a condom with
rubber toys. Silicone dildos are about twice as expensive
but are much easier to clean: You can boil them to disinfect.
Lubricant: Even if you don't normally use lubricant
while having sex, some dildos have a tendency to absorb
moisture, so buy a tube--just in case.
Store Clerks: They're really not so bad and usually
very well-informed. Feel free to ask them any questions
you have and tell them what you're looking for--it'll make
them feel wanted.
Where to Shop: Dildo manufacturers understand the
importance of variety, and you need a comfortable place
to browse. Our fair city supports several distinct styles:
old-school adult stores, leather shops for hipsters, women-owned
businesses. One of these might fit your self-image.
If you're a truly shy person, the kind who needs to bring
her Willamette Week into the house before turning
to the personal ads, then I suggest you skip the stores
and head straight for mail order. Good Vibrations, the grandmama
of all sex-positive toy shops, will send a catalog if you
call them (1-800-BUY-VIBE), or you can order directly from
their Web site: www.goodvibes.com.
With modern communication technologies acting as a buffer,
now is the best time ever to be secretly bashful.
- - - - - - - - - - - - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Willamette Week | originally
published May 19, 1999
|
