The glow-in-the-dark condom is intriguing. An erotic accessory that first appeared in a few online sex shops, it has spread, appeared under various brand names, and is now easy to find in supermarkets.
What’s it made of? It’s not radioactive, at least, is it?
I’m thinking in particular of condoms containing radium (which didn’t glow, by the way), marketed in the 1920s for their spermicidal properties (fair enough, something radioactive kills pretty much everything, sperm included), back when the dangers of radioactivity were still unknown. And the poor men and women of the time who rubbed their willy / their fanny with a deadly product, thinking they were protecting themselves.
And it occurs to me that it might be worth looking into, just in case.
What’s in a glow-in-the-dark condom?
I started researching online, confident I’d find something to reassure you with, by declaiming their composition and what it means in a scholarly tone. Or at least, something that would give you a way to check that your glow-in-the-dark condoms aren’t going to make your intimate bits mutate.
So there I was, asking Google about the composition of a glow-in-the-dark condom. And I was left a bit gobsmacked. In fact, the only bit of information I could dig up on the sites that sell them was that the condom in question is made up of three layers: a layer of latex, a layer of “a completely harmless thing that glows in the dark” (yes, but what?) and another layer of latex. Right, well, thanks for the information, but I’m not much further forward.
Having first made sure to sit down in front of Wikipedia so I could be better enlightened (please excuse the rubbish pun) about the differences between fluorescence, phosphorescence, photoluminescence and chemiluminescence, and then checking chemistry forums and various pigment manufacturers’ websites, I learn that pigments which emit a greenish glow in the dark are phosphorescent, and are generally made from zinc sulphide or strontium strontium aluminate (not radioactive, but rather toxic). These compounds need to be doped with trace impurities. Copper, europium or radioactive compounds can be used for this.
The glow-in-the-dark condom isn’t radioactive
It was finally on the CRIIRAD website (Independent Research and Information Commission on Radioactivity) that I found the answer to my question. In a document explaining how to identify watches containing radioactive elements, I learn that if the brightness gradually decreases until it disappears after a few minutes or a few hours, then the phosphorescent object isn’t radioactive.
Now, after being exposed to a lamp for 30 to 60 seconds, the glow-in-the-dark condom glows for between 5 and 15 minutes. So it’s not radioactive. That doesn’t tell us much about any possible chemical toxicity, but still, it’s a start.
If you’re still in doubt (for example, you’ve bought a really dodgy brand with weird symbols on it) and, despite having a taste for adventure or suicidal tendencies, you don’t fancy just throwing your rubbers away on a whim, you can at least check before using them that they don’t keep glowing until the break of dawn.
Beware of novelty condoms that don’t protect against STIs
However, be aware that some glow-in-the-dark condoms sold online are purely decorative. So they don’t protect against STIs or the risk of pregnancy. But this is generally made clear on the packaging or the sales website.
The glow-in-the-dark condom: why?
Why use a glow-in-the-dark rubber? With its triple layer, it’s certainly not for physical comfort. As the answer may not be immediately obvious to everyone, I’ll suggest a few possibilities.
The biological hypothesis (and a bit gross)
Gentlemen, you imagine yourselves as a disgusting little deep-sea creature, equipped with a bioluminescent appendage. Something like a female black seadevil (the male, tiny, content to live attached to the female’s body, so you’ll have to put all macho preconceptions aside). So you use your luminous appendage to attract innocent prey.
Ladies, you imagine yourselves as an equally unappetising deep-sea fish, but one that’s going to end up in the first one’s stomach. You spot a light in the darkness around you and…
No. Going down this route was a bad idea.
Right, um, I think we’d better stop there. Not a very plausible fantasy.
The Internet hypothesis
According to VieDeMerde.fr, two uses seem to be common among men:
- The Jedi cock (not to be confused with the Thursday cock, which looks much like the Wednesday cock) (here and here): this involves thinking of your appendage as a lightsaber. Green, like Yoda’s, which means that its wielder prefers studying the Force to studying lightsaber combat techniques. Only try this with a committed geek girl, or you might find your exploits recounted in mournful tones on a site where people tell their comic misadventures.
- The flashing cock (here and here): yep, when it goes in, you can’t see the light; when it comes out, you can. Come on, do you really think it’s subtle, making yourself out to be the lamplighter? Yoda while you’re shagging is already pretty iffy, but The Little Prince? That’s downright creepy!
The extraterrestrial hypothesis
Come over here, let me show you my alien technology…
Use with (extreme) moderation; this technique will probably provoke more laughter than orgasms. But hey, as long as it stays very occasional, why not.
(Illustration source: @heylovedc’s Flickr gallery)
