Juice’s vaginal suppository launch sparks debate over intimate care’s beauty pivot
Key takeaways
- Juice has launched scented vaginal suppositories positioned as a step in a broader beauty routine.
- A femtech marketing consultant argues the framing recycles longstanding shame around women’s bodies.
- UK cosmetics rules define a cosmetic by application site, leaving vaginally inserted products in an unclear category.
Juice, an intimate care brand marketed as beauty, has debuted with “not something you need, but something you want” positioning. Some have applauded the category convergence, while others have pushed back, seeing the framing as evidence-skirting and a trendy rebranding of female shame.
The new brand launched with oil suppositories for the vagina, designed to give hydration and a “subtle scent.” Scented intimate hygiene products have been discouraged by medical professionals due to irritation. For example, the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists advises against using perfumed products in and around the vagina.
Juice promises its products are a non-hormonal blend of all-natural, vegan, and pH-friendly ingredients.
The brand’s CEO, Hanushka Toni, describes Juice as not something consumers need, but that “beauty has never been about need,” and instead about “choice, expression, and how you want to feel in your own body.”
However, critics of the brand question where the line is between expanding the beauty industry and expanding decades-long insecurity surrounding women’s vaginas.
“The story underneath is that beauty capitalism keeps recycling the same message — your body isn’t acceptable as it is — and just updates the packaging for whichever generation it’s currently speaking to,” Vidya Tasa-Chadha, FemTech and Women’s Health marketing consultant, tells Personal Care Insights.
“This isn’t a niche objection from people who are precious about language. It’s a broad, immediate recognition of something a lot of women already feel and rarely see said plainly.”
We have reached out to Juice for comment, but did not receive correspondence at the time of publication.
Selling the ritual
Juice is an intimate beauty product designed to “elevate your self-care routine.” Its vaginal suppositories are designed to deliver subtle moisture, softness, and scent as part of a “modern intimate-care ritual.”
The capsule, once inserted, gradually melts and releases ingredients. According to the brand, the product is more sensory and ritualistic than traditional intimate comfort solutions. It says this experience is why suppositories have become increasingly popular in the category.
Intimate care is converging with beauty as wellness marketing expands into the category.
The intimate care market is increasingly fusing with the personal care category, leading more products to use wellness marketing. US consumers spend over US$2 billion a year on feminine hygiene products, according to a 2014 analysis in Environmental Health Perspectives.
Tasa-Chadha argues that Juice’s intimate beauty positioning is another offshoot of a culture that capitalizes on telling women there is something wrong with their bodies that needs fixing. “The vehicle changes but the disciplinary function doesn’t, and what tends to get lost in coverage of a launch like this is the actual biology,” she says.
“It was douches marketed through 1950s hygiene shame, then labiaplasty marketed through close-up Instagram culture, now it’s a flavored insert marketed through Gen Z self-care language.”
The beauty-focused suppository brand addresses vaginal odor and stigma on its blog. Juice says that “a vagina is not meant to smell like perfume” on a blog titled: “How to make your vagina smell fresh.”
“One of the most common causes of unwanted odor is actually over-cleansing. Strong soaps, douches, and heavily fragranced washes can disturb the delicate environment of the vagina and create the opposite effect,” says the brand on its website.
Targeted marketing aesthetics
Juice’s out-front marketing seemingly skips over the scientific language typically associated with intimate care. Instead, its packaging and promotions are adorned in a pink and euphemistic language.
Tasa-Chadha critiques the branding as an intentional grab at young consumers. She details Juice’s use of emojis, color palette, and influencer seeding to young women via TikTok and Instagram.
“They didn’t just stumble into an aesthetic that performs with teenagers and 20-something women; they know that is who they are speaking to, and a brand’s visual language is always a deliberate targeting decision,” says Tasa-Chadha.
“The look and tone are calibrated to resonate with people still forming their body image and sexual self-concept.”
The brand’s messaging frequently uses “down there” or a cat emoji to discuss the vagina. Tasa-Chadha says that the vague language keeps everything in emotional territory. She explains that not using anatomical or clinical language, such as “vaginal microbiome,” leaves the brand in a gray zone where a safety claim does not need to hold up.
“It also lets the brand avoid sounding off-putting, which shows the vagina/vulva is being treated as something too indelicate to name accurately.”
Scented products for intimate use remain discouraged by medical guidance.
Juice has a parallel message of female empowerment. The CEO, Toni, says that using the product is “entirely optional, entirely personal,” and that the brand stands for bringing “ownership” into a beauty routine.
The brand’s website reads: “Beauty has touched every part of the body, except the one we’re told to keep quiet.”
However, Tasa-Chadha flags that not naming the vagina in its messaging undercuts Juice’s empowerment pitch. “Empowerment sounds like precision. Euphemism is what shame sounds like when it’s been rebranded as liberation.”
“They want reach and virality, and you’re not going to get it using the word vagina.”
Betting on beauty
Juice leans into its market positioning as a beauty item. “Because beauty doesn’t stop at your face,” is one of its taglines.
“This isn’t medicine. It’s not a treatment. It’s a little indulgence for an area that’s been left out of the beauty conversation for way too long,” reads Juice’s About page.
Health and hygiene claims typically carry heavier regulatory obligations than cosmetics. “You need substantiation, are inviting scrutiny on ingredient safety, and will be bumping into medical device/drug regulation,” says Tasa-Chadha.
Beauty is less regulated than the medical market. “It is one of the most lightly regulated consumer categories, as cosmetics don’t require clinical trials or premarket safety approval, and claims can use subjective language, for example, ‘feel confident,’ ‘feel fresh,’ versus anything measurable,” Tasa-Chadha continues.
In the UK, where Juice is based, cosmetic Regulation (EC) No 1223/2009 requires a safety assessment, a named Responsible Person, and notification before sale. However, whether Juice falls as a cosmetic at all is unclear.
The regulation defines a cosmetic by where it is applied — skin, hair, nails, lips, external genital organs, teeth, and mouth — and a melt inserted vaginally is not on that list. The regulation separately rules out products meant to be ingested, inhaled, injected, or implanted. Insertion is not among them. Products that do not fall under cosmetics, medicines, or medical devices are in the general consumer product safety law, which requires only that goods be safe.
Vaginal suppositories are gaining traction as intimate care adopts skin care conventions.
“By putting a vaginal product in the beauty aisle instead of health, it’s opting out of the burden of proof and reaching for a much lower and much less accountable bar,” says Tasa-Chadha.
Intimate care as responsible personal care
Juice says that intimate care has begun to follow the same philosophy as skin care. Instead of harsh solutions, many women are choosing beauty-focused products that prioritize comfort and confidence. It adds that beauty-grade suppositories fit into this category.
“Rather than treating a medical issue, they melt gently and leave a feeling of softness and freshness as part of a self-care ritual. Juice was created with this approach in mind,” says the brand.
The suppositories are made with natural plant oils, fruit extracts, and vitamin E to deliver hydration and comfort. The texture is said to melt into skin, leaving behind a “soft, subtle scent and a feeling of fresh, confident comfort.”
Tasa-Chadha says if Juice wants to impart responsibility in the intimate care category, it should show “full ingredient transparency instead of ‘natural’ as a stand-in for safety.” She suggests the brand add formulation data on pH and microbiome compatibility, a printed condom compatibility warning, and language that doesn’t imply a health benefit it can’t substantiate.
Tasa-Chadha believes that conceptually, there is a “responsible version of this product.” She explains that there is a legitimate demand behind vulvar and vaginal comfort products for women of all ages.
“The problem isn’t so much the product per se, it’s the fact that it is a highly shame-adjacent product marketed through the visual grammar of body positivity, with no clinical honesty and no interaction warnings, while still profiting off the implication that the vagina needs correcting.”











