The Food-For-Sex Scandal: A Sampling of Good Vibrations’ Gastronomic Pleasures

| January 15, 2006 | 4 Comments
  • 4 Comments

My Bay Area Bites posts, dear reader, will often be preambled by a warning.

In this case, stop reading now if you have never wondered what edible underwear taste like and you don’t want to know. Ditto for revulsion to the very idea of honey, coconut, peppermint, strawberry and chocolate ever gracing your nether regions or those of a loved one, for what follows is a review of what I’ll call adult novelty fusion food, all procured at Good Vibrations, the Bay Area’s leading sex toy outlet.

Fasten your strap-ons: It’s going to be a bumpy blog post.

Kama Sutra Honey Dust

Let’s start with a fantasy.

Imagine that you’re a fabulously well-appointed Indian courtesan, and a happy one at that. Imagine the warm evening wind wisping through the transparent sunset-hued silk curtains that hang around your princess-and-the-pea bed, providing a sexy patina of privacy in the flickering candlelight. Savor the scent of jasmine drifting in from the balcony and the charmingly distant moo of water buffalo. Relish the well-fed child plucking a sitar just outside your door.

Are you with me?

Now, reach for your beautiful tin of Kama Sutra Honey Dust, pluck out the feather duster that it houses, and flicker a bit across the inside of your wrist, or maybe across your knee.

Inhale.

Lovely, isn’t it?

And now, taste: Equally lovely — sweet but not too sweet, perhaps even slightly reminiscent of the tastiest Indian dessert ever, gulab jamun.

Now, disembark from the fantasy and run, next time you have a spare $25 bucks and the urge to wear something sexy to work, to buy some Honey Dust. Never mind bedroom use: a surreptitious lick of your Honey-Dusted wrist — or knee — at two in the afternoon at your cubicle just might sutra your kama for the rest of the afternoon quite sweetly.

And keep in mind that Honey Dust, as its primary ingredient is cornstarch, can also thicken your gravy.

Extra Strong Sugar Free Peppermint Nipples

Pert Peppermint Nipples (“Fresh and Frisky”) cost $5 and come in a spunky black tin garnished by a brunette with a Jane Russell-esque body. The mints themselves are disk-shaped, a little less than an inch in diameter, with a tiny protrusion. While they are tasty — a gentler peppermint than Altoids — I like them even more because they’re relatively large, for a mint, and last a long time. In fact, I timed one: One peppermint nipple lasts for a lengthy 10 minutes of sucking.

My tin of Peppermint Nipples is stationed in my car, where it makes for a great conversation piece with friends riding shotgun, and the mints serve the perfect oral pick-me up.

Chocolate Body Painting

This product, whose awkward gerundified name I’ll chalk up to poor translation since it’s manufactured in Montreal, is nearly as well-packaged as Honey Dust: It’s as elegant as a perfume bottle, and you really have to peer closely at the label to see exactly what the kimono-clad couple are up to. It’s equipped with a neat little miniature spatula, but as the spatula was not sheathed in sanitary plastic wrap, I dispensed with it and opted for “au naturel” (which in my lingo means “on my finger”).

“Set your artistic side free. Paint a love story on your partner’s body,” the label advises. “It’s insanely delicious…”

My idea of “insanely delicious,” when it comes to spreadable chocolate, is Nutella — especially when “au naturel”, so I compared the two. Trust me, $12 peinture de corps chocolatée doesn’t qualify, but maybe that’s because I sampled it on on first my finger, then a baguette, instead of someone else’s thigh.

Rather, it is in the “C” range of Hershey’s syrup — thin, with a hint of plastic. But I won’t let it go to waste: I’ll remember it’s in the cupboard — the one in the kitchen — the next time I have an eight-year-old with a hankering for chocolate milk on my hands.

Toasted Coconut Lickable Oil

This product is just one in Good Vibration’s exclusive line of “body candy”. The label declares that it is “natural, non-sticky, edible, non-staining, and delicious!”. Oxymoronic though the labelling might be (which in addition to calling it ‘edible’ also stated that it was for ‘external use only’), this is a tasty $5 investment, calling to a mind a long hot afternoon on a deserted tropical beach, a pitcher of pina coladas, and a cabana boy.

One could easily drizzle Toasted Coconut Lickable Oil on top of dessert — a non-breathing one made of flour and sugar, I mean — and no one would know that it was meant for body part.

Edible Undies

Don’t even try and tell me that you have never ever once wondered about edible underwear. You’ve seen the package — the glossy red lipsticked mouth seemingly torpedoed by a chocolate-dipped strawberry — but have you ever read the copy, which the California manufacturer offers in both French and English, implying that Francophones and Anglophones are equally zealous consumers of “dessous mangeables”?

“Sensuellement Delicieux!”

“Licking well, body heat [and] moisture all enhance the flavour of your Edible Thong. Tie strings loosely to avoid breakages, tie back and enjoy…”

Enjoy before 12/20/2015, that is.

Yes, your $5 edible underwear will last ten years — likely longer than your non-edible underwear. Unless, of course, you wash it, take a bath with it, or otherwise expose it to an unspecified “forte humidite”: “Garment will dissolve in water or excessive moisture.”

But we haven’t even opened the box yet, never mind tasted its contents.

First, let me assure you, there’s a reason why there is no photograph of the edible thong on the package: It’s because le dessous mangeables — which I’m not sure even sounds sexy in French — resembles a jinormous pink transparent diaper, sexy perhaps if repurposed as a Playboy rain poncho for Barbie (assuming there is no rain, of course), but most decidedly unsexy for human couture, with or without “forte humidite”.

And then there was the taste — supposedly “fraise et chocolat” — which is about as sexy as the bottom of your kitchen garbage can two days after Thanksgiving when you still feel too fat to take out the trash.

Oh, the bitterness, of the type that launches one’s face into a thousand contortions!

Oh, the texture, which clings to the roof of one’s mouth and sticks to one’s molars like Krazy Glue!

For the love of God and foie gras, dear reader, don’t ever, ever let edible underwear cross your unsuspecting palate, nevermind your nether regions. Your tongue and other body parts will never, ever forgive you.

Tune in in two weeks for my next installment in the food-for-sex scandal: 101 uses for flavored lubricant, just in time for Valentine’s Day.

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About the Author ()

Meghan Laslocky is a writer, editor, and producer who lives in San Francisco. She aspires to one day be a person who: Shops every week at the farmers' market and always has fresh romanescu on hand; eats only politically correct meat from cows that voted for Obama; never ever has to buy canned chicken stock because she always has oodles of it in a fabulously well-organized freezer. In the meantime, she shops at Trader Joe's in the off hours, heartily enjoys corn-fed beef that is likely campaigning for McCain, tries to feel better about herself by buying canned chicken stock that is labeled as organic or free range, and produces web sites for KQED, including videos like this about the hot 'n' heavy last dark hours of the kind of squid that become fried calamari. As she writes this bio, she is eating Dilettante chocolate covered bing cherries and drinking Cline Pinot Gris. Be advised: they do not "go." Her work has been published by Salon.com and the San Francisco Chronicle. She is a graduate of the UC Berkeley Graduate School of Journalism, where she did not study with Michael Pollan, much as she likes him.
  • FJK

    Brilliant post. Very creative. But I thought sex was supposed to burn off calories?

  • Jennifer Maiser

    Great post, Meghan. This is hilarious. Tried to tell the boy about it last night and he proceeds to tell me, “that is SO not the point about that stuff.” Well, duh, but it’s still damn funny and interesting!

  • Stephanie V.W. Lucianovic

    “Thicken your gravy” — god, that is priceless!

  • Anonymous

    Ick. Why ruin sex with bad “foodstuffs?”