In Back

Seven years ago, I walked with some trepidation into a tiny shop on the third floor of a commercial building; it was up a narrow staircase, and I had to ring a buzzer at a heavy door with a tiny window to get in.  I only knew this place was there because other foreigners told me so: “Look for the interlocked male and female symbols,” they said.  Walking past masks, fake blood, face paint, props, and various other costume pieces, I saw what I came for: sex toys.  Well, sort of.  Everything was covered in a fine layer of dust and had Japanese writing on it; it all looked very old, as though it had been smuggled in via Soviet Russia.  There weren’t very many products – a fake pussy here, a crop there, a couple of PVC dildos.  Pornography is illegal in Korea; adult toy stores are highly frowned upon and hidden away, and I think they can only be open as novelty stores.  Anything considered “obscene” by the Korean government can be confiscated by customs; the Korean version of Amazon does sell a limited number of items, but only on its Korean-language page. and shoppers must submit a phone number for age verification.

A bit like these guys…

But back to this store.  The older man with greying hair behind the counter lowered his glasses and looked me up and down before asking, “Vibrator?”  I nodded and walked toward the counter.  From behind the glass, he brought out a huge rabbit and told me the price: 100,000 won.  Nope, I said – too expensive.  I was just looking for a cheap way to get off quickly.  He then brought out, in sealed plastic wrapping in a tiny box one egg vibe, bright yellow and transparent.  20,000 won, he said.  Sold.  I know this is outrageously expensive for a cheap plastic egg vibrator – but seeing as how Korea is lacking in feminist sex-positive sex shops, I took what I could get, and I got down. 

 

I had that vibrator my first two years in Korea; it never blew my mind, but it did the trick!  It was a traumatic time in my life, and that little vibrator meant waves of relief when I desperately needed it.  Every time I go home to the States now, I make several trips to my local superhero sex store and stock up, very, VERY thankful that I have all the vibrators at my disposal that I could possibly want (and that nothing has been confiscated by Korean customs).  And dammit, I want them all. 

 

I’m a fan of rumbly over buzzy; of patterns over continuous vibration; of silicone over… well, everything.  I use vibrators mostly when I want to get off hard and fast; if I’m in for a long wank or am highly aroused and lubricated, I prefer my hands and a dildo.  That being said – I bought my first vibrator on my eighteenth birthday (it was pink and had hearts all over it – triple ugh) and have never looked back.

I bought my mom a vibrator (maybe that’s what this post should have been about!) for her 55^th birthday after she confided in me that my father wouldn’t touch her anymore… and she shed tears of joy when I said that every woman had the right to experience pleasure.  She called to say thank you the following week, and we never talked about it again – but I know it made an impact on her to know that her daughter had her back.  We should all have each other’s backs when it comes to the right to self-pleasure.  Maybe when I move back to the States, I should make it a point to mail all my friends in Korea vibrators for their birthdays – I’ll just write “novelty item” on the customs slip.