More and more ‘wellness’ companies are selling products that capitalise on women’s insecurities over their bodies. Now they are targeting the vulva
There is little to love about having a cold, damp vulva. Or so I discovered when I applied an “activated charcoal sheet mask” to mine. The product in question, Blackout, is by a “luxury vulva care” brand called Two L(i)ps. The company’s promotional material says it is “ready to disrupt and redefine the vulva space”. Before disrupting my own, however, I had to navigate the packaging. After slipping it from its peach-coloured pouch, you have to pull away a sheet of white “lace” to reveal its dark, sopping glory. “Dim the lights and relax as your skin is detoxified and clarified,” say the instructions on the box, which tell you to leave the mask on for 15-20 minutes, then pat the “remaining serum” on to the skin. Lying on the sofa, mortified by my own company, I last no more than six. Of all the mistakes I’ve made in my intimate life, looking down to see that sprawling blackness, its “lace” film lying sadly by my thigh, is definitely up there, so to speak.
I may be a cynic, but there is a hungry market for these products: Two L(i)ps boasts that 10,000 units of Blackout (£15.50 for a single mask, £66 for a set of five) were sold in the two and a half months after its launch. The brand has developed a range of “luxury vulva care” products including Pout, a “hydrating serum” made of 95% pure hyaluronic acid (£99 for 30ml), and Undercover (£99 for 30ml), an “anti-blemish cream” to “stay spotless”. The cream is made from the skin-whitening agent palmitoyl hexapeptide-36, and comes with the instruction to apply SPF30 sunscreen to the area the following day, no doubt with all that offering-our-naked-labia-to-the-sky sorcery us women get up to in mind.