Are Your Sex Toys Fatphobic?

When I think of self-pleasure, I think of self-acceptance.

Existing in a body that I’ve always struggled to feel comfortable in, the most judgement free pleasure I’ve ever experienced has been with myself. On the days when I’ve been consumed by anxieties about how my stomach rolls at a certain angle during sex, or the uncertainty of trying to guess how my partner might be viewing me in my most intimate moments, solo play has been a space free from observation, over-analysis, and judgement.

However, as it turns out, even the safe space of self pleasure isn’t free from the social history of femininity being equivalent to: smallness.

Over the last few months, I’ve started to see the term ‘plus-size sex toys’ pop up more and more in my work (and in my shopping basket). At first, I wondered if this was a marketing ploy aimed at overcharging curvy and bigger bodies, a method I’m quite frankly used to as a 38E whose only lingerie options tend to fall in a more expensive bracket. However, the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Short stemmed vibes that cause you to pull a shoulder muscle; wedges and stools that are strangely narrow; harnesses that don’t stretch or extend sufficiently to support every body. I’d never considered it as size exclusive before - rather, as curvier people often do, I had just assumed it was a problem with me.

Of course, sex toys can be used both alone and with partners. But for me, the revelation that weight-based surveillance was sneaking into my private moments of self-intimacy was the starkest reminder of just how deeply misogynistic beauty standards have infected all aspects of our lives. As this thought led me down numerous reddit rabbit-holes, I realized this was an issue affecting many more people than I’d previously imagined. Whilst so many toys are sold as a one-size fits all, the truth of the consumer is that this just isn’t accurate. Instead, these toys seem to be designed with certain measurements, flexibilities, and abilities in mind - and not all of them are even close to inclusive.

What makes a sex toy size exclusive?

Size exclusivity begins in the assumptions built into the design: the measurements used, the range of adjustment offered, the amount of physical effort required, or the positions a product assumes its user will be able to comfortably hold.

For example, many toys with handles or stems are designed around body proportions that don’t always account for bigger chests, tummies, hips, arms, or backs. This can make it difficult for users to comfortably reach their erogenous zones, or force them to be confined to a single position whilst using the toy. 

Size exclusivity can also be evident in the design of wearable products, such as harnesses, strap-ons, cuffs and lingerie-style accessories. Whilst many brands advertise their products as having adjustable straps, not all of them extend to the sizes required to even attempt to be genuinely inclusive. ‘Adjustable’ shouldn’t be an empty method of virtue signalling that really translates to ‘there is some variation in sizing’. It should mean that a product has been designed to accommodate a genuinely broad range of bodies, rather than simply offering a few incremental adjustments within an otherwise limited size range. The same unfortunately goes for products labelled as ‘one size fits all’ - whilst it’s a nice idea, it doesn’t usually hold up.

Furniture and positioning aids introduce another set of considerations. Wedges, cushions, stools and other products designed to support or facilitate sex are an incredible idea, but in practice, they’re not always built to actually support the weight of bigger bodies, or to sufficiently support them. An aid that is too narrow, too short, or too weak can quickly become yet another barrier to pleasure.

What makes a sex toy size inclusive?

At its most basic, inclusive design means anticipating that the people buying and using sex toys will have different bodies, proportions, ranges of motion, and physical needs.

For example, a truly inclusive wearable should stretch and extend far beyond the median size range of a population, and the sizing should be clearly advertised to ensure transparency and accountability. One great example of this is Sportsheets’ High Waisted Adjustable Corset Strap On. This wearable explicitly states that it can cater to hips ranging from 28 to 60 inches, which based on my research, is approximately a size 00 to size 26 in Canada. Not only is this an impressively wide range, but being so explicit about sizing allows users to assess for themselves whether a product is actually likely to fit their body, saving them money and frustration in the long run.

In cases where a user needs further adjustments, inclusive manufacturers can also provide extensions and replacement components, so that rather than buying an entirely new harness or stool, users can just buy a longer strap, or a more durable seat cover. Not only does this make products more accessible to people whose bodies sit outside the original sizing, but it saves them money, it reduces excessive purchasing and waste, and it means that a product doesn't become entirely unusable simply because one component doesn't fit. 

The same level of transparency should be applied to sex furniture and aids; when brands are clear about weight and dimension limitations, users can avoid the frustration and potential safety risks of purchasing a product that can’t adequately accommodate their bodies. For example, Whipsmart’s viral Bounce Squatter Sex Stool clearly lists a weight capacity of 400 lbs, but retailer Bonjibon still promote honest conversations about how well the stool actually holds up for bigger bodies. For example, this thorough guide published by Bonjibon gives 5 unique ways to use the stool, as well as giving an honest first-person perspective on both the positives and the limitations of the stool. Co-founder Katie also highlighted the importance of offering an interactive, person-first experience as sexual pleasure retailers:

“Customers can always reach out to us directly if they are looking for something we haven't sourced yet! We're always trying to expand our horizons and become less exclusive”

Finally, when it comes to handheld toys and aids, such as vibrators, dildos, and dilators, the best way to be inclusive of all body types is to simply offer options. Are there multiple ways to hold or grip your toy? Can the length of your toy handle accommodate for different ranges of motions, as is the case with many wand-style vibrators? Can you offer bondage tape in a bundle for customers to use as a versatile tool to modify or enhance toys? Can the toy itself offer built-in flexibility in the head or handle, or even be used hands-free? 

Ultimately, creating space for personalization places sexual autonomy back in the hands of the user, and renders pleasure a place where there’s no such thing as taking up too much space.

Bottom line: making toys for all body types isn’t that hard. Inclusive sex toys don’t require a reinvention of the wheel - they just require a touch of consideration and thoughtful design. 

To (almost) quote the stylist of the late great Dolly Parton, "We don't make Dolly fit the clothes [sex toys]. We make the clothes [sex toys] fit Dolly”