Queer Joy Shopping Guide: How to Choose Toys Without the Straight Script Marketing

Most toy marketing still assumes the same story.

There is a man. There is a woman. There is a predictable sequence of events. And somewhere along the way, a product appears that promises to make everything better.

As a lesbian, I have spent years looking at sex toy marketing and thinking: who exactly is this for?

Because a lot of it certainly did not feel like it was written for me.

The imagery felt familiar but distant. The language felt oddly scripted. The advice often assumed relationship dynamics, goals, and experiences that had very little to do with my actual life.

For a long time, I thought the problem might be me.

Maybe I was too picky.

Maybe I just had not found the right product yet.

Maybe everyone else understood something I did not.

Now I see it differently.

If shopping for toys feels confusing, frustrating, or weirdly alienating, that does not automatically mean you are difficult to please. It often means you are navigating an industry that still defaults to a very narrow idea of pleasure.

Queer joy deserves better.

And that starts with learning how to shop for yourself rather than for somebody else’s script.

Why So Much Toy Advice Feels Off

One thing I hear from queer women all the time is some version of the same question:

“What actually works for us?”

It sounds simple enough, but underneath that question is a bigger frustration.

Many of us grew up consuming sex education, relationship advice, and product marketing that barely acknowledged queer women existed. If we did appear, it was usually as an afterthought.

That creates a strange situation.

You start shopping for something designed to support pleasure and self discovery, but the guidance surrounding it often feels disconnected from your reality.

I talked about this more in Sex Toys for Queer Women: Why the Market Gets It Wrong (and What Actually Works), because I think many queer women have experienced that feeling of trying to force themselves into advice that was never created with them in mind.

The good news is that once you recognise the pattern, you can stop treating mainstream marketing as a rulebook.

Instead, it becomes what it should have been all along: one source of information among many.

Before You Buy Anything, Understand Your Own Body

I know this is not the exciting part.

People usually want recommendations.

They want lists.

They want somebody to tell them which product is best.

I understand the temptation. I have searched for those lists myself.

But the most useful thing I ever learned had nothing to do with a specific toy.

It was understanding that pleasure is individual.

There is no universal best option.

There is no product that works for every body.

There is no feature that everyone loves.

Let’s stop pretending there is one right way.

The more you understand your preferences, the easier it becomes to filter out marketing noise.

That is one reason I believe so strongly in body literacy. Knowing how your body responds, what feels comfortable, what feels overwhelming, and what genuinely interests you creates a much stronger foundation than any shopping guide ever could.

If you have not already read Body Literacy for Queer Women: The Basics That Actually Help, I recommend starting there.

A lot of shopping mistakes happen because people are trying to solve a self knowledge problem with a purchasing decision.

Those are not the same thing.

The Five Things I Look For Before Buying Any Toy

Over the years I have become much less interested in flashy marketing and much more interested in design.

Design matters.

It sounds obvious, but it is remarkable how many products are marketed around fantasy while ignoring usability.

These are the five things I pay attention to first.

1. Comfort

Comfort is my first filter.

Always.

I do not care how popular a product is if it looks awkward, uncomfortable, or difficult to use.

A surprising amount of product design seems to prioritise looking innovative over actually feeling good.

Comfort is not boring.

Comfort is often the reason something becomes a long term favourite.

2. Materials

Good materials matter.

Body safe silicone, durable construction, and easy maintenance are not the most glamorous features to talk about, but they have a huge impact on the overall experience.

Cheap materials often create expensive disappointments.

3. Ergonomics

This is one of the most overlooked parts of toy design.

Can you hold it comfortably?

Can you reach the controls easily?

Do the buttons make sense?

Can you operate it without constantly stopping to figure out what it is doing?

Products should work with your body, not against it.

4. Control

I would choose thoughtful control over maximum power every time.

Many people benefit from having a wide range of settings rather than one overwhelming experience.

Good design creates flexibility.

It gives people room to explore their own preferences.

5. Easy Care

Cleaning and storage are rarely featured in glamorous advertising campaigns.

They should be.

A product that is easy to clean and easy to store fits more naturally into everyday life.

Practicality matters more than many brands would like to admit.

Three Marketing Red Flags I Never Ignore

Once you start paying attention, certain patterns become impossible to unsee.

Lazy Gendering

Products divided into rigid categories like “for him” and “for her” immediately make me sceptical.

Bodies are diverse.

Relationships are diverse.

Good design should focus on needs and experiences rather than stereotypes.

The best products solve problems.

The worst marketing reinforces assumptions.

Selling Fantasy Instead of Function

If a product description spends more time describing a fantasy than explaining how the product actually works, I lose interest quickly.

Tell me about the materials.

Tell me about the controls.

Tell me about the shape.

Tell me why somebody might enjoy using it.

Marketing language should not be doing all the heavy lifting.

Shame Based Messaging

This might be my biggest pet peeve.

Any product that suggests you need fixing is immediately less appealing.

You are not broken.

You do not need a toy to make you worthy, desirable, or complete.

Pleasure products are tools.

They are not self improvement projects.

Shop For Needs, Not Labels

One of the most helpful mindset shifts I ever made was stopping my search for products aimed at a particular identity and starting my search for products that met specific needs.

That sounds like a small difference.

It is not.

When you shop by needs, your options become much clearer.

Pride Is Not a Colour Scheme

Since this post is arriving during Pride season, I think it is worth saying something that should be obvious.

Rainbow packaging is not inclusion.

Limited edition Pride products are not inclusion.

A colourful social media campaign is not inclusion.

Real inclusion shows up much earlier in the process.

It appears when companies think carefully about design.

It appears when educational content acknowledges different experiences.

It appears when products are created with a wider range of bodies and relationships in mind.

That is the kind of progress I care about.

Not performative visibility.

Practical visibility.

The kind that actually improves people’s experiences.

If you are a beginner, you might prioritise simplicity and ease of use.

If comfort matters most, you might focus on ergonomics and softer materials.

If you already know what you enjoy, you might look for more customisation and premium construction.

The point is that your needs matter more than the marketing category.