The problem with sexual lubricant isn’t that it doesn’t work. In fact, Jimmyjane president Robert Rheaume is quick to point out quite the opposite: citing that 9 out of 10 women find sex more pleasurable with lube, according to The Journal of Sexual Medicine.
No, the problem with lube is that it looks too much like lube. Lube needs to get out of its own way.
Enter: Jimmyjane. The high end sex product company counts Wallpaper* favourite Yves Béhar among its collaborators. And now it’s here to disrupt that garish little plastic bottle undoubtedly shoved into the bottom of your nightstand drawer.
Rheaume comes to Jimmyjane from Chanel and sister company Bourjois. So it’s no surprise that the company’s new Sensual Care line of organic water-based lubricant and natural toy cleanser borrows directly from perfume and cosmetics typologies.
The bottle is frosted glass instead of plastic and the label with ingredients and instructions is removable, making the lube virtually indistinguishable from a sleek, unisex fragrance. The brand name is embossed on the bottle, serving a dual function as a grip for when things inevitably get slippery.
It’s a product intended to be left out on one’s vanity, or displayed unselfconsciously on the bathroom counter. It’s his and it’s hers.
‘Great design to me means making the design approachable to anyone,’ says lead industrial designer Carolina Formoso.
The experience of the lube begins with the packaging experience, Formoso explains, through the thoughtful presentation of a box that’s actually exciting to unwrap. Of note, travel size versions of the lube and cleaner come paired in a set. The lettering calls to mind the youthful, fresh font of Marc Jacobs.
Rheaume dreams of a world where his products can sit alongside lip plumper and brow pencils at the beauty counter of a department store. To him, acclimating the shopper to this idea begins with designing for consumer comfort.
‘Good design can transcend any concerns a person has about a category,’ Rheaume says. In kind, the company’s ergonomic sex toys typically adopt an abstract shape that eludes the stereotype of the replacement phallus.
‘We’re trying to democratise sex products for the masses,’ he explains, putting few limits on the artistry this might entail: ‘it can look like a Jonathan Adler ceramic.’