I tried a vulva oil so you don’t have to

Yes, it’s a real product.

In some unsurprising – yet still shocking – figures, a UK study in 2021 identified how little many of us know about the female anatomy. 50 per cent misidentified the urethra, 37 per cent the clitoris, and only 9 per cent correctly labelled all seven parts (labia majora, labia minora, clitoris, urethra, vagina, perineum and anus). And 90 per cent of the respondents were female.

Given how little time our education system dedicates to the female anatomy, I’m sure the Australian figures would neatly correspond. It’s particularly interesting, given that the beauty industry places so much emphasis on perfecting the vulva. (Why all the pressure when you don’t even know where it is?)

We like nosy people. Don’t be shy, head to our Beauty section for more. 

Of course, everyone has an opinion about downstairs body hair removal: Do you? Don’t you? A little or a lot? Wax/laser/shave/foam? Discussions about labiaplasty have become almost commonplace, referenced seamlessly alongside botox and fillers, despite it being much more controversial. The procedure modifies the labia (the ‘lips’ of the vagina) and involves a reshape or reduction in most instances, although changes may also be made to the clitoral hood or mons pubis.

In recent years, demand for this particular surgery has risen. According to the Royal Children’s Hospital figures, the median age of young women referred to the hospital with these concerns between 2000 and 2012 was 14.5. I hate to be a negative Nancy, but I daresay it’s much the same – or worse – these days. I mean, of all things, there was a 2021 competition to find the ‘world’s most beautiful vagina‘ (referred to as a ‘vageant’, aka a vagina beauty pageant). 

The pressure to maintain a beautiful, ‘normal looking’ vulva can be intense (not that there’s any such thing as ‘normal’, as vulvas come in all shapes, sizes and colours). I’ve never been overly concerned with my vulva, although I acknowledge I am in the minority (I have an abundance of other insecurities to battle with). Without subscribing to these unrealistic standards and affirming that every vulva is beautiful, I decided to test Imbibe’s V-Oil. It’s described as an “organic oil-serum with rose otto for luxury sexual wellness and vulva nourishment”. Here’s my honest review.

Is vulva oil worth it?

I always judge a product by its packaging, so first things first. The delicately weighted black bottle oozes luxury. It’s opulent, dark and moody: that initial box is immediately ticked. Imbibe highlights that most of us neglect the delicate skin of our vulva while paying copious attention to all other areas of the body. Using rose oil (carried with jojoba oil), the product claims to soothe, nourish, hydrate and balance the pH levels of the vagina.

Rose oil is non-irritating and generally handled well by most skin types, making it appropriate and safe for use ‘down there’. Apparently, rose oil can also help to accelerate recovery from trauma and labour and reduce pain. While I can’t speak to the science behind the oil (I haven’t been testing my pH levels at home), I found pleasure in taking a little self-care moment down there.

Much like butt cream (which I trialled last year for FJ), it felt nice to dedicate a few extra moments to an oft-forgotten or dismissed body part. She (my vulva) may be able to look after herself most of the time (all that self-cleaning and pH restoration), but it doesn’t mean she can’t be treated to something special on the odd occasion. A few drops of oil, and she’s basking in lushness. And, truthfully, I did notice a difference – she’s a little smoother and more supple.

The scent itself is enticing and relaxing, so use isn’t limited to the vulva alone. Instead of my normal perfume, I dabbed a few drops here and there, behind my ears and wrists. The rose has an awakening effect, alerting the senses, calming the nerves and helping you prepare for a busy day ahead. 

Poised as an intimate oil, Imbibe suggests using the V-Oil for sensual moments, driven by that alluring aroma. Look, I doused myself in the stuff, hoping it may have a ‘dog on heat’ effect (only really trying to vie for my partner’s attention, though). I can’t say it worked the way I had intended, but the oil would definitely make for a wonderful massage base and heighten the mood. 

The verdict on this ‘passion, pleasure and self-care’ oil? Surprisingly, I’m not a hater. In fact, when I forget to oil up before getting dressed in the morning, I feel regret. Why should the rest of my body feel wonderfully moisturised and cherished, but not my vulva? 

Remember, there is no need to improve or modify your vulva in any way. If incorporating a vulva oil into your routine is coming from a place of positivity and interest, though, I say why not?

You can find out more about Imbibe’s V-Oil here.