Milf Teeth

Cupcake Vibrators Exist, Depressingly

By Sophie Heawood


Ffs.

Just when you thought there was one place that twee couldn’t reach. Just when you thought we had managed to get through a slow century of those "Keep Calm" posters without anyone making a "Keep Calm And Carry On Wanking" one, a far worse thing has occurred. Some cheeky monkey has invented a vibrator that is shaped like a cupcake. A pink cupcake, with a cherry on top, natch. I mean snatch. I mean wtf.

An editor at a women’s mag, who got sent one of these vibes (pure vibes) as a freebie, told me she was going to chuck it away before she realised it was a sex toy. “You have to pop its cherry to turn it on, and the fast-speed setting is a bit alarming,” she added. Imagine buying it in a shop. Imagine being able to look in the mirror, and say, out loud, ten times, without crying, “I am someone who gets off with a bun up my fun.” In February 2010 I wrote a column for the Independent, saying that the cupcake trend was the thin end of the wedge, that it would start with cupcakes and end in vaginoplasty. People, the prophecy is now upon us. Cupcakes have entered the vagina. The bun has come.

In recent years twee has made an uncharacteristically noisy comeback to the cultural top-table. A bit 1940s British land girl – hoorah, hoorah war is over – a bit 1950s American homemaker, baking cakes. Nigella became the Domestic Goddess, Zara started stocking floral tea-dresses, and stripping got reimagined as burlesque – the main difference between stripping and burlesque being, as far as I can see, that strippers actually need the money. The twee market boomed, saturated with Cath Kidston oven gloves, and vintage coats that made you look like a war widow who could still rustle up a hotpot for eight people despite having just lost your husband and two eldest sons at the Western Front.

The men got The Chap to read and moustaches to wax and everyone was up all night to get lucky with a packet of Woodbines and some bunting. Which was all well and good but the 60s and 70s and their sexual liberation had just sort of disappeared, to be replaced by cupcakes. I went to a pub the other day that offered a ladies night menu – of cupcake flavoured cocktails. Let this be the market saturation point, I thought. Surely the whole thing has spunked its load now, surely cupcakes can’t go any further than into the liquid format of booze. Until I saw the one that costs £35 and goes inside you. It’s not a cocktail. It’s practically a cock.

Look, if you just happen to have one of those awkward vajayjays, shaped like a cupcakey hollow, not traditionally served by the penis-shaped vibrator model, then I admit, this product is good news. Or, if this is more of a clitoris toy, not designed to go up anything but to nuzzle against the front, that works too. I mean, I once did it with a souvenir version of the Statue of Liberty. Which sounds uncomfortable but it was hand-sized, and I probably kept my knickers on. We’re all a bit Daniel Day Lewis with our Method; everyone’s got one. But you really might want to have a word with yourself if you’re most comfortable being eroticised by a plastic representation of buttercream.

Of course, penises aren’t always the most enticing things. They’re really not. They look like penises, for a start. But a cupcake looks like the innocence of a child, multiplied by the tears of a 45-year-old woman who isn’t sure whether to pull a tray of cakes out of the oven or stick her head in there and join them.

It’s not just cakes and vibrators – did you know, there is now a brand of wine called Mommy Juice? It is available in two varieties, and they are called Mommy Juice White Wine, and Mommy Juice Red Wine, because this is the simple sort of language that mommies can understand no SHUT UP. Mums! Celebrate the fact you don’t live in Saudi Arabia and are in fact free to go to the shop and buy any variety of wine that you can afford. You can choose from all of the wines, like the consenting adult that you are. Start retreating into an imaginary corner marked "Mumwine", and one day that corner will become real. The rest of the off-licence will have been barred from you, and you’ll have to go all Rosa Parks just to get to the Malbec.

Look, if it was you who designed the cupcake vibrator, and you’re reading this, then I am sorry. I’m sorry to pour derision on all the hard work you’ve been putting in since that fateful day when an erotic lightbulb went off in your head and you thought, “I know what women like – cupcakes AND clitoral orgasms. I’ll be damned if there isn’t a way to give them both at once.” I salute your compact design, your originality of thought, your ability to think outside of the box. But outside of my box is where your cupcake vibrator will be staying.

Follow Sophie on Twitter: @heawood

Previously – Death to Exclamation Marks!

Comments