Best Sex Writing 2010 (13 page)

Kimono condoms are generally conceded to be desirable by consumers interested in thin condoms. The web retailer SpicyGear. com named Kimono MicroThins the “thinnest latex condoms made,” and competitor CondomUSA is similarly enthusiastic: “Japanese condoms are our favorite because they are thinner and feel better. We vote Kimono MicroThin as our Editor Choice because we believe it is one of the best and thinnest condoms in the market. It surprises us by its thinness and quality. Because it is so thin, it reduces the ‘rubber’ feeling and feels like nothing at all.”

“BigJ,” who reviewed Kimono MicroThins on the Walgreens website, wrote: “This is the best condom ever. It’s like wearing nothing at all.”

Other people agreed with Mayer, albeit with reservations: “The problem is if you’re doing anal sex, they’re less sturdy,” said “Chaz.” “But you can definitely feel more.”

But many seemed unimpressed with claims about which brand is thinner.

“Sure, thicker condoms reduce the physical sensation of sex,” said Steve, who described himself as a lifelong Trojan buyer. “But is a little less sensation really a bad thing? When I buy a condom, I’m thinking about babies and disease. If the condom also happens to slow things down a bit, hey, that’s fine by me.”

Joe, a long-time Trojan user, said thinness doesn’t necessarily seal the deal for everyone. He suspects that if some company made a thick condom and promised it would make you last longer, a lot of consumers would probably go for it. “There are people who would make that decision, yes, definitely,” he said.
“I mean think about it. Guys buy condoms for two reasons. One, random hookup; they’re just hittin’ it, quittin’ it. Or, two, there’s people who buy condoms because they’re with a partner and it helps them last longer.” Joe goes for Trojan because of brand allegiance—it’s been burned into his brain, “like Kleenex.”

Tiffany said it might behoove these companies to advertise a super-thick condom, specifically targeting people who never get laid, and don’t want to bust the moment it finally happens. She says she knows several people who would fit this consumer demographic: “They got (condoms) in their shoe, their sock, their back pocket. Probably wearing one at all times.”

Kevin said, “The idea of a thin condom, it makes me nervous. It’s a little tiny piece of rubber. You’re gonna make it thinner? That freaks me out.”

Some of Kimono’s competitors make the same argument. “The thinner the condoms are, logically the more likely they are to break,” said Brian Osterberg, president of condom-maker Intellx, whose said his company’s shaped contraceptives represent “a new milestone” in condom-making. “There’s two trains of thought here: Super-thin so that you feel through the latex, or a normal condom with oversized shapes that creates the ridges and folds, and that’s what creates the friction. We turned upside down the idea that a super-thin condom is the best.”

But Mayer of Kimono disagrees—he’s never had a product recall, after all. Moreover, he sees no irony in his efforts to market the least-condomy condom. “The number one reason people don’t use condoms is it interrupts the moment,” he said. “Number two is that it’s like wearing a raincoat. If we can make something that’s silky and next to nothing at all, then more people will use it. Hopefully we can increase utilization because of it.”

The market has gone through many significant changes since
Kimono started making condoms in 1988. Discussion of sexuality and birth control has become more socially acceptable, information about AIDS and other STDs has increasingly come into the public eye and more and more companies are marketing directly to female consumers. “Now women are buying condoms with pride,” Days explained, “because it’s about securing your own sexuality and feeling like a savvy buyer of sex products.”

As a result, the advertising patois has changed. A popular new Trojan commercial features a Midwestern sports bar packed with pigs and beautiful women. One of the pigs turns into a man after buying a Trojan condom from a bathroom dispenser. The slogan, which comes at the very end, seems apropos: “Evolve.” Days of Good Vibrations found this ad particularly intriguing. “I thought it was really interesting that they put a spin on it that was almost female-positive,” she said. “It was almost one of those ‘real men drink beer’ [slogans], but it was ‘real men wear condoms.’ I thought it was really interesting to put it like ‘the evolved man uses condoms’—and definitely ‘the evolved woman.’”

To Mayer, all this goes to show that the big guys are finally latching on to something he realized twenty years ago. Kimono perceived itself as being a more feminine brand than the others, which is the clear logic behind the gender analogy in Kimono’s “Stakes Are High” commercial. Twenty years before Trojan’s “Evolve” campaign, Mayer foresaw the importance of appealing to female consumers and going thin. “We kept showing the data that that’s the growth, people want good quality, reliable, thin condoms,” he said. “We keep innovating. We keep coming out with thinner, better condoms, and we take the high ground.”

But as the idea of importing condoms from Asian manufacturers caught on in recent years, Kimono’s strategy of making its products in Japan is no longer a major selling point, Days observes.
To top it all off, she added, Lifestyles recently came up with an innovation of its own: a latex-free super-thin condom designed for people with latex allergies. “It’s fantastic,” she said.

In an industry in which a small number of companies battle for supremacy and most advertising is directed at retailers rather than consumers, it’s a challenge for a brand the size of Kimono to stay afloat. The recent buyout of Long’s Drugs by CVS, which is based in Rhode Island, could hurt Mayer Laboratories, since it’s likely the newly consolidated retailer will favor national brands over regional ones.

But Kimono keeps soldiering on with innovations of its own. The company sells a girly change purse designed to hold a stash of condoms that it calls the “Kimono Kouture Bag.” And last year the company began decorating its condom boxes with animals culled from Japanese myth: The Phoenix that adorns Kimono Thin packages is said to symbolize “the union of the Yin and the Yang.” The ram on Kimono Maxx is “powerful, yet graceful.” Kimono’s textured condom, the tiger, is “daring, vigorous and passionate.” There’s a painterly quality to these images, suggesting that perhaps Mayer Laboratories has a backroom staff that hand-draws each package with bamboo pens and Sakuyo paintbrushes. Granted, Mayer wasn’t the first condom-maker to use animal imagery. The Intellx Dolphin, a condom with a cute mammalian snout, came out a few months ago and is now on the shelves of CVS drugstores nationwide. “It’s one of their hot new items,” said Osterberg, who said his company has several other new shapes forthcoming—including a bell, a baseball bat, and a condom that looks like a beer glass.

 

 

“Jane” looks to be somewhere shy of forty years old, though she’s squirrelly about telling me her age. She is, as she likes to say, “unaltered,” not a supermodel type. She’s slightly soft, ample in a pleasing way, with brown hair and an open face. I suppose you might say she’s average, but she earns part of her living in a very unaverage fashion.

Jane is a sex surrogate. Los Angeles-area therapists and counselors send male patients to Jane and then she takes off her clothes and engages in that time-proven pedagogical method of teaching by doing. In the three years she’s been a surrogate, she has taught about twenty men the pleasures of the flesh.

You can be forgiven if you’ve never heard of sex surrogates, or thought they were more urban myth than reality. But if you can recall when backyard “spas” were called hot tubs, Peter Frampton ruled and you were traumatized by the discovery of your mom’s
copy of
The Joy of Sex,
you may also recall that surrogates were once the rage.

The boom started when famed sex therapy pioneers Masters and Johnson revealed they had prescribed surrogates for some of their clients. Then a lot of people decided they needed therapy, too. Having a naked surrogate touch your privates or gently encourage you to have intercourse made therapy seem far more pleasant than sitting across from a shrink talking about how your oedipal complex caused your premature ejaculation.

In the ten years between 1970 and 1980, surrogacy went from being practically unknown to pop culture fascination. In 1980, one California therapist estimated there were between 400 and 500 surrogates working in the United States.

Then, like the passenger pigeon, sex surrogates seemed to disappear. Nobody knows how many are left in the United States today, but estimates from therapists who use them say there might be forty.

The reason for the disappearance was largely, though not entirely, political. Sex therapy had a sketchy reputation when it began. Throw in the notion of using a substitute sexual partner, with its heavy payload of sniggering and the foggy legality of paying for sex, and the fledgling field was at risk of being regarded as more whoopee than therapy.

Besides, after AIDS, Viagra, the explosion of sexual information, the mainstreaming of sex therapy, surrogacy came to seem an anachronistic and somewhat embarrassing holdover from the’70s, like orange shag carpeting, maxi-skirts and men with goldfish in their platform shoes.

In an effort to provide a patina of legitimacy, one surrogate
named Vena Blanchard created the International Professional Surrogates Association to train and certify sex surrogates. That helped, but not much.

“A couple of things made (surrogates) problematic for some therapists,” Howard Ruppel, PhD, academic dean at the Institute for Advanced Study of Human Sexuality in San Francisco, explained. “One is the matter of respectability. If you want to get an interesting discussion going on the bulletin boards of professional groups that certify sex therapists, just put surrogate partners out there and the thing goes berserk.”

According to Stephen Conley, PhD, executive director of the American Association of Sexuality Educators, Counselors and Therapists, the issue of surrogacy “just about split the AASECT board years ago. They could not get consensus. Some people were strongly in favor and some worried about legal implications.” AASECT never adopted a formal policy one way or the other, but the debate itself relegated surrogacy to the shadows.

“There are people out there who do work with surrogates but they are a little below the horizon and that is unfortunate,” Ruppel said.

Susan Kaye, a therapist working in Philadelphia and Austin, Texas, works with surrogates “below the horizon” for a practical reason—she can’t even find certified surrogates in her areas. “I have gotten around it by working with people who are ‘body workers,’ people I have trained on what I want them to do with clients.” “Body work,” as Kaye defines it, excludes intercourse, but can include genital touching and genital massage.

“There are too few therapists trained to work with surrogates,” said Marilyn Lawrence, PhD, a Beverly Hills counselor who has used surrogates for thirty-five years, “and too few surrogates trained to work with therapists.”

The rationale for surrogates is simple, according to Lawrence. While patients with a regular sex partner can do therapy “homework,” single men and women, who, after all, might be single because they need sex therapy, don’t have study buddies. Even a partnered man or woman trying to work out a fetish, or someone who has been raped or assaulted and can’t stand being touched could use a surrogate.

As Kaye explained, “You can only sit across the desk for so long and tell them how to ride a bicycle until you have to give them the bicycle.”

Still, there have been no rigorous studies testing whether using a surrogate is any better than other forms of therapy. That, and the dubious legality of the practice, keeps surrogacy on the fringe.

Lawrence regards the legal issue as a red herring. In thirty-five years, neither she nor any of the surrogates she’s used have faced legal trouble, probably because most legitimate surrogates do not advertise and work only with men sent to them by mental health professionals.

Indeed, if Jane’s experience is any indication, men who try to use surrogates for easy, zipless sex in exchange for cash are seriously overpaying.

“I would say, of all the clients I’ve worked with, I have had intercourse with two,” she said.

Sometimes surrogates and patients may do nothing more than hold hands and caress. “It is misunderstood,” Lawrence said. “It is not a contract for sex. It is a contract to work on a problem that requires intimacy skills.”

For example, Jane, who charges $150 per hour or $225 for ninety minutes, worked with a man whose Asperger’s syndrome caused him to misinterpret facial expressions. “He wanted to date
and he was having difficulty making connections.” She has helped victims of sexual trauma, and men with depression, erectile dysfunction and fetishes that limited sexual menus.

“My favorite clients are the forty-year-old virgins,” she said. “Everybody is shocked, but there are a number of men out there who, for whatever reason, have not had many successful sexual experiences or none at all.”

Exactly what Jane does varies depending on the man’s needs. “I reintroduce people to their own bodies,” she explained. “It is close and intimate but not necessarily sexual. For example, for people with sexual trauma, it is important for them to know they can touch and be touched and not be in jeopardy.”

After every session, Jane reports back to the assigning therapist who uses the information in treating the patient. For some patients, Lawrence said, surrogacy may be the only method that works.

That’s why she is campaigning for the return of sexual surrogacy. “Look,” she said, “sometimes all somebody needs is literature. Sometimes they need basic sex ed, sometimes talk therapy. But sometimes people need a surrogate.”