The eroscillator isn’t just ugly; it looks downright suspect. It looks something you’d find advertised in the very back of a gentleman’s mag from 1973, or a baffling electric face massager seen on QVC at 3am. It’s aged badly, coming onto the market in 1996 and not changing all that much since then, and the heinous satin-finish purple they slapped onto it at some point in the last two or three years (it was previously copper) takes me back to 2004 in all the wrong ways. It reminds me of so many eras and so many things, none of them good.
And yet. AND YET. Since buying the eroscillator I’ve had next to no need for any of my other, infinitely prettier vibrators. Even my hitachi’s getting lonely. It might be ugly as sin, but the eroscillator has one job and one job only, and that’s getting me off. And it does it bloody well.
The eroscillator’s main selling point is the fact that it doesn’t merely vibrate – this hideous bastard oscillates, and it does so silently. It also backed by Dr Ruth, who I had to google, and it comes with a bunch of different attachments, nearly all of which are entirely irrelevant – the delightfully plush marshmallow/soft tip is the only one that truly matters, but I’ll allow the gentle golden spoon when I fancy a change. I ask you: who brainstormed the idea of an attachment that comes with sharp, bristly hair protruding from either side and deemed it saleable? I swear to god.
For something that plugs in to a wall and measures almost the length of my forearm, the eroscillator is surprisingly manageable; it’s not particularly heavy even with an attachment, and the push-up 1-2-3 speed slider is so much more practical than fiddling with stupid tiny buttons. The neck between the body and the attachments also means that juggling an internal toy with it isn’t the rage-inducing palaver it usually is – the neck gives you more breathing room, so to speak.
Truthfully, the eroscillator doesn’t feel that much different to traditional vibrators. I realise this is a confusing post to slog through with many tangents and changes in direction, but listen: I remember having read so much about how life-changing and unique the vibrations – sorry, oscillations – felt that when mine turned up I initially wondered if it was faulty and rotated through every single attachment to see how they all felt individually. It’s best described as a purr, not buzzy, not shallow, and with the marshmallow tip on it feels almost massage-like, but the vibrations themselves aren’t what I expected – they do feel different, but not by much.
What IS different, though, is the fact that the orgasms I have with the eroscillator are just so, so much better. Like, eyes in the back of my head, goosebumps, bloody half moons in the palm of my hand, speaking in tongues, back risen off the bed, bright pink flush every. Single. Time. I’m frightened to use it with someone else because I think I might boot them in the face. Plus I don’t go numb nearly as easily, which is nice because less recovery time = more orgasms.
Is it worth it? Uuuunnnnhhhh. Yes. It pains me to say it because it’s SO EXPENSIVE, and if it were rechargeable I’d say no because rechargeables will inevitably die some day and sooner if you leave them uncharged for too long, but plug-ins maintain an illusion of invincibility. Speaking of plug ins: if you’re in the uk you’ll have to buy an adaptor as it comes with either a us or eu plug as default, which is frankly pathetic on eroscillator’s part. You’ll sell your product to uk vendors but won’t manufacture one with a uk plug? C’mon.
The eroscillator’s really, really ugly. It also has a website that reminds me of a women’s health clinic, and I hate that it doesn’t come with a uk plug as standard, and the price makes me sick in my mouth a little bit. But it consistently delivers on the orgasm front in a way that no other vibrator I own does. I don’t give a rat’s arsehole that it’s as antiquated looking as it is – I can’t see shit with my eyes rolled all the way back, anyway.
I bought the eroscillator myself from Lovehoney.