published by my own outfit, Down There Press (get it?).
My mission was simple: to encourage women to take charge of and have fun with their sexuality; this in a society that deemed nonsexual women pure and good, and sexual women tramps. I also advocated that men be full partners as their women lovers explored and experienced their sexuality. I planned to exploit people’s interest in sex rather than their anxiety about it.
When I opened the store, I never considered, “What will people think?” I was married at the time, and my father-in-law
did
seem rather confused about what I was doing. (“What exactly are you selling, Joani?” he asked at one family gathering. “Vacuum cleaners?”) But the vast majority of reactions, from friends and strangers, were supportive or curious.
“And what do you do?”
“I sell vibrators.”
“Oh.” Pause. “I see.” Extended pause. “Great! How’s business?”
Perhaps my bold move did not meet with much resistance because San Francisco in the 1970s was a place of sexual freedom and feminist consciousness-raising. The attitude was “anything goes”—though to protect the privacy of our customers, we placed curtains in the storefront window. What modesty wedid have took the form of keeping a few realistic-looking dildos in a wooden cabinet, which customers had to inquire to see. People would look all around and then ask “Do you have anything else?” and I knew that meant dildos.
From the beginning, the store attracted a wide range of customers, from heterosexuals who heard about us through the grapevine to lesbian couples who lived in the area. Lots of men, eager to learn about sex from a woman’s perspective, came in alone, too. I admit, I got a certain perverse pleasure out of talking with customers about “shocking” things, like dildos and masturbation, in a no-nonsense, straightforward way. And it was a relief for others to realize they could talk about those things. No one I spoke to about my work and mission was so conservative that they couldn’t at least respect what I was doing. Most, in fact, sang my praises. Mine was an idea whose time had come. It had been a sexual wasteland for women out there. My clean, well-lighted store, a discreet shop with nice curtains, was an oasis.
One of my favorite memories from those early days is of a man who came in one afternoon when I was the only one working. He walked over to my one little shelf of books and stood in front of it for the longest time, totally still, with just his head moving back and forth looking at the titles. After a while, I started to feel slightly nervous.
Is this guy a creep?
I wondered. We did get those from time to time. Just as I was working up the nerve to ask if I could help, the man turned to face me and said in an awed voice, “I can’t believe I’ve gotten to be thirty-six years old and I obviously still don’t know the first thing about sex.”
“Well,” I responded heartily. “You’ve come to the right place.”
joani blank’s San Francisco store did not fold within a year. Instead, it expanded to include a very popular mail-order service and a second location. In an unusual move, Joani ( www.joaniblank.com ) restructured GV to be a worker-cooperative so that each loyalemployee became an equal owner. GV now has close to seventy owners, and grossed close to $10 million last year. You can buy your very own vibrator at www.goodvibes.com
Declawing Catcalls
julia acevedo
The Saturday after Thanksgiving is a real pain if you’re in retail. But there I was, working on the busiest shopping day of the year, and on what was supposed to be my day off, too. It was a bad,
bad
Saturday. I was pushed, shoved, yelled at, and on my feet since opening at 7:00 that morning. By 2:00, I was ready to deck a few halls, not to mention a few surly customers. Stella, my sympathetic manager, took pity and gave me the rest of the day off. I had to relax. I needed coffee.
It was chilly outside and
My mission was simple: to encourage women to take charge of and have fun with their sexuality; this in a society that deemed nonsexual women pure and good, and sexual women tramps. I also advocated that men be full partners as their women lovers explored and experienced their sexuality. I planned to exploit people’s interest in sex rather than their anxiety about it.
When I opened the store, I never considered, “What will people think?” I was married at the time, and my father-in-law
did
seem rather confused about what I was doing. (“What exactly are you selling, Joani?” he asked at one family gathering. “Vacuum cleaners?”) But the vast majority of reactions, from friends and strangers, were supportive or curious.
“And what do you do?”
“I sell vibrators.”
“Oh.” Pause. “I see.” Extended pause. “Great! How’s business?”
Perhaps my bold move did not meet with much resistance because San Francisco in the 1970s was a place of sexual freedom and feminist consciousness-raising. The attitude was “anything goes”—though to protect the privacy of our customers, we placed curtains in the storefront window. What modesty wedid have took the form of keeping a few realistic-looking dildos in a wooden cabinet, which customers had to inquire to see. People would look all around and then ask “Do you have anything else?” and I knew that meant dildos.
From the beginning, the store attracted a wide range of customers, from heterosexuals who heard about us through the grapevine to lesbian couples who lived in the area. Lots of men, eager to learn about sex from a woman’s perspective, came in alone, too. I admit, I got a certain perverse pleasure out of talking with customers about “shocking” things, like dildos and masturbation, in a no-nonsense, straightforward way. And it was a relief for others to realize they could talk about those things. No one I spoke to about my work and mission was so conservative that they couldn’t at least respect what I was doing. Most, in fact, sang my praises. Mine was an idea whose time had come. It had been a sexual wasteland for women out there. My clean, well-lighted store, a discreet shop with nice curtains, was an oasis.
One of my favorite memories from those early days is of a man who came in one afternoon when I was the only one working. He walked over to my one little shelf of books and stood in front of it for the longest time, totally still, with just his head moving back and forth looking at the titles. After a while, I started to feel slightly nervous.
Is this guy a creep?
I wondered. We did get those from time to time. Just as I was working up the nerve to ask if I could help, the man turned to face me and said in an awed voice, “I can’t believe I’ve gotten to be thirty-six years old and I obviously still don’t know the first thing about sex.”
“Well,” I responded heartily. “You’ve come to the right place.”
joani blank’s San Francisco store did not fold within a year. Instead, it expanded to include a very popular mail-order service and a second location. In an unusual move, Joani ( www.joaniblank.com ) restructured GV to be a worker-cooperative so that each loyalemployee became an equal owner. GV now has close to seventy owners, and grossed close to $10 million last year. You can buy your very own vibrator at www.goodvibes.com
Declawing Catcalls
julia acevedo
The Saturday after Thanksgiving is a real pain if you’re in retail. But there I was, working on the busiest shopping day of the year, and on what was supposed to be my day off, too. It was a bad,
bad
Saturday. I was pushed, shoved, yelled at, and on my feet since opening at 7:00 that morning. By 2:00, I was ready to deck a few halls, not to mention a few surly customers. Stella, my sympathetic manager, took pity and gave me the rest of the day off. I had to relax. I needed coffee.
It was chilly outside and
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