Ray and the Bearback Gear Team,
I’d like to open by stating that I’ve been thinking about this letter for quite some time now. Before a single word was typed, I spent time on several occasions considering what Bearback Gear meant to me, the experiences I’ve had both with and through the brand, and how much the brand has grown and changed in the years since my first order. Quite frankly, Bearback Gear changed how I approached time in the bedroom. I’m grateful for that, but the overall message I’d like to convey is that I’m concerned with the volatility of the brand and how some of the recent decisions related to marketing and product offerings could threaten the longevity of a brand that I believe to care deeply about the community and groups it serves. This open letter is written from a place of admiration and appreciation, and I sincerely hope that it may provide helpful insight.
My entry point to Bearback Gear was through the lubes. While it’s been a few years, I vaguely recall my introduction to the brand coming through an Instagram ad for The Best Bearback Lube Ever. At the time, I was using a big brand silicone lube that did the job, but left a lot to be desired in terms of how it felt and the sheer amount of product and re-application needed to get the job done in the bedroom. I remember being a bit shocked by the price, but I took a chance and ordered a jar to try. However, that risk paid off immediately, and from that point, I practically refused to play without a Bearback Gear lube. For a while, I practically evangelized Bearback Gear lubes. I don’t have a head count, but I suspect I’ve converted a good number of friends and partners (present and past) through even just one session with a Bearback Gear lube. Some of my friends would joke about how into Bearback Gear lubes I was, particularly after seeing me eager to talk about them when the topic of lube came up in casual conversation.
The next step towards making me something of an unpaid spokesperson for Bearback Gear was experiencing the cum towels. I used to use cheap hand towels (or similar) for cleanup after sex or a solo session, so the cum towels were a game-changer. Between how soft each towel is and the fun designs (especially those that represent the different communities I’m proud to be a part of), the cum towels have always felt like a luxury. At this point, I have so many that I’ve lost count of how many I have (it’s difficult when at least one or two are always making their way through the wash).
The Cum Cover was a third point where my love for Bearback Gear grew. I was more skeptical about the Cum Cover than the lubes or cum towels, but the idea of something dedicated to protecting the bed (or whatever surface) from the inevitable messes that can come from a good time was fascinating. I ordered my Cum Cover early and it’s been used nearly every time I have sex.
Reflecting on this and the prior two product categories, the common thread between these products is that they’re simple and they do their job well. They also support the experience rather than trying to be the experience.
Unfortunately, Versatile is where Bearback Gear started losing me. The initial prospect of “the lube company” making a jockstrap was interesting, but I was blown away by how much the brand seemed to invest in this jockstrap being a central part of “the Bearback experience.” Contrary to the products I’d come to know and love, Versatile was marketed as an experience, and an experience that came with many bells and whistles for the price of $300. I remember talking with friends about Versatile shortly after its launch. Most of the time, the NFC tag and the lube holster were perceived as being interesting, but the conversation always ended with the price tag. After all, $300 is A LOT to ask for a jockstrap. I remember telling myself that I couldn’t justify buying a single piece of underwear for $300, even if it did all the things that Versatile did. At the time, the most expensive piece of underwear I’d purchased was maybe $40, and that felt steep!
I did end up buying Versatile (though at a third of its launch price) and it still sits in my underwear drawer. As a piece of underwear, it’s comfy and the black mesh-y look is nice (though admittedly I could use a little more room in the front). After so many conversations about how good a $300 jockstrap could be, I wanted to figure out the answer, even if just to satisfy my own interest in the question. The reality of my experience with Versatile has been that the bells and whistles are fun to talk about, but they’re much less practical in real life. One of the most confusing parts of the experience was how the NFC functionality required a subscription to use beyond an initial free trial. You’d think that a $300 pair of underwear wouldn’t need a subscription to take advantage of, but alas, that’s not the case with Versatile! At the end of the day, I primarily just use Versatile as a jockstrap without the lube holster, and I overwrote the NFC tag to get rid of the ridiculous need for a subscription service. All in all, I might pay $50 at most for this pair of underwear, and I suspect I’m alone. I don’t think I’ve ever seen another pair of Versatile in the real world or even outside of Bearback Gear marketing.
Where I think Versatile went wrong is that it tried to do so much and to be the experience rather than supporting the experience. Even setting aside my direct experience with Versatile, the marketing seemed to signal a shift in Bearback Gear’s strategy; one in which the brand would focus more on making products like Versatile that center around being a luxury experience in themselves and offering so many bells and whistles at a “luxury” price point. That signal felt like a threat to the Bearback experience I came to know and love, one where Bearback is a partner helping me make the most out of time spent in the bedroom without getting in the way. This felt even more true when it seemed like the lube side of the business slowed down in the interest of selling Versatile and stock of Bearback lubes were more scarce.
The real breaking point for me was the “End of an Era” marketing campaign. Quite frankly, when the first email from this campaign reached my inbox, I thought it was all over. Reading through the first part of the email’s copy, it seemed like Versatile (and a potential miscalculation in the impact Versatile would make) might’ve caused Bearback Gear to fall into ruin, and that I’d have to look for a new source of high-quality lube and cum towels moving forward. Friends who received the same emails reached out to me as if someone I loved dearly passed away unexpectedly. Unfortunately, emotion got the best of me and I bought some of the products placed on sale before reading through the full copy of that same email to find that “end of an era” was really more of a marketing ploy designed to lead people to think that Bearback Gear was closing its doors for good (and to purchase what remained of the lubes, cum towels, and other goods).
Once I read all the way through that initial email, I felt so incredibly embarrassed and ashamed. A brand that I’d previously been happy to say great things about in the past not only fooled me into making a large purchase, but people in my social circles (that I influenced to get into Bearback’s goods), too. Even with the first email, this marketing campaign felt malicious in its intent, using the premise that Bearback Gear was going away for good to drive sales. The emails that came after it weren’t any better and continued to play up this false concept that the business was shutting down to encourage purchasing behavior. It felt like the brand was doubling down on this toxic marketing tactic in ways that didn’t feel like the Bearback Gear I’d come to know over the years.
I’ll take accountability for believing what the initial copy of the initial “End of an Era” email implied without continuing to read. That’s on me. However, I think Bearback Gear should be ashamed of this campaign and how incredibly misleading it was. This campaign caused me to lose my trust in the brand and to immediately distance myself from it. Nowadays, when lube or related goods come up in conversation, I usually abstain from the conversation, primarily because I feel I can no longer recommend Bearback Gear due to the “End of an Era” marketing campaign. I still use Bearback lubes, cum towels, and the Cum Cover privately, but I feel a lot of uncertainty about buying more because of this campaign and the harm it caused to my perception of brand and its integrity. It sucks to think about looking for another place to find these goods, but I can’t justify supporting a business that uses scare tactics to encourage sales.
With my confidence in Bearback Gear already broken, the announcement that the brand was launching a social media platform felt like another sign that it was time to move on. This move felt like a sign that Bearback Gear had lost its direction, and that those behind it were using the rhetoric of establishing a platform without censorship to justify the move. The kicker for me was finding that joining the platform required a monthly subscription. Contrary to my experience with Versatile, I haven’t paid into figuring out what this social media platform is like. I might’ve given it a shot if I could join for free, and maybe I’d consider upgrading to a paid membership if I found value in being on the platform. Frankly, Bearback Gear could’ve stood up a Mastodon instance and been able to accomplish the same goals without requiring users to pay (and probably would be more successful with that approach), but after the “End of an Era” campaign, Bearback Gear holding out their hand for money and asking for me to have the opportunity to give them more time and attention felt absurd.
Some of the more recent developments have been equally head-scratching, specifically Bearback Gear hosting a sex party at a motel and launching a skincare sister brand. I’m intrigued about the skincare brand, but the sex party seemed like another sign that Bearback Gear had lost its direction (especially with its “no surprises” policy which excluded trans men from being able to attend).
At this point, it might feel like I’m shitting on Bearback Gear and their recent business choices, but I assure you that this all has a purpose. Specifically, I’m writing this letter to ask that Bearback Gear return to the things that made me fall in love with the brand; the “basics” that took my sexual experiences from “decent” to “excellent.” I don’t want to join another social platform, I don’t need a Swiss Army knife of a jockstrap, I need lubes, cum towels, and other accessories that I can depend on to elevate the experiences of having a good time with others (and myself). While it has been interesting seeing how the business has explored growth opportunities, Bearback Gear (in my eyes) excels at being a supportive force, one which supplies things to help me connect with my friends, partners, and the occasional other without making a big deal about itself or relying on extreme tactics to try to get or keep my attention. I’d be excited to see more products that support fun and healthy sexual experiences and how Bearback Gear can innovate in that space. That to me is the niche where the brand performed best, and where Bearback Gear made the biggest difference.
I hope this might prove insightful to the Bearback team, and that you might consider my request as you look at how to grow and develop Bearback Gear as a brand.
With Care,
Handler David