More Than A Sex Shop.

The police had a problem with our dildos.

Apparently, they were too upright.

Sh! had just started making its own non-phallic silicone dildos when the local police paid Ky a visit.

Their advice? Display them lying down. Something about not portraying a penis more than 45° erect.

“They’re not penises.”

A distinction we’d find ourselves making for years to come.

The dildos stayed down. The argument didn’t.

Sh! was told to pay £17,500 for a sex-shop licence.

For a bootstrapped little business, that was impossible.

So Ky went to the library — there was no internet — and started reading the law.

A “sex shop” had to sell a significant proportion of “sexual articles.”

But what actually counted as a sexual article?

Sh!’s toys weren’t realistic. A vibrator could look much like an electric toothbrush. Condoms weren’t classed as sexual articles. And what about a wand massager?

“I’ll see you in court.”

Civil-rights lawyer Terry Munyard took the case, challenging the definition itself.

At one point, waving a feather tickler at the magistrate, he asked:

“Is this a sex article, Madam?”

“It could be,” Ky whispered.

The case was thrown out.

Sh! carried on.

Apparently, money from a women’s sex shop was a step too far.

Sh! customers had raised money through catalogue sales, so Ky called one of the UK’s most prominent breast cancer charities to donate it.

“Where’s the donation from?”

“The UK’s first sex shop for women. It’s been donated by our customers.”

“A SEX SHOP?! …No, sorry. We can’t accept it.”

Sex has always stirred up strong judgements.

Our mission? Challenge them. Always.

P.S. The money found a very willing home at Breakthrough Breast Cancer.