A couple of years ago, everyone started writing about how celebrity-backed sex toys were the new celebrity fragrance. It started—at least to some degree—with Goop and Gwyneth Paltrow, who started selling, or otherwise touting the benefits of, vaginal steaming, yoni eggs, $15,000 gold vibrators, and the like.

Paltrow—who produced her first name-brand sex toy last winter—was followed by a wave of young celebrities who recognized the cultural shift around women’s pleasure, and who knew that sex sells. Cara Delevingne joined Lora DiCarlo. Dakota Johnson joined Maude. Lily Allen released her own special-edition vibrator, which she called ‘Liberty,’ with Womanizer.

Of course, there’s a trend at hand: The players that were mentioned in this celebrity sex toy wave are all cisgender, thin, wealthy white women, selling a product that’s been largely accepted in the mainstream consciousness. The vibrator isn’t really scandalizing anyone these days. This isn’t to say that Paltrow, Delevingne, Johnson, and Allen haven’t furthered the cause of American sex positivity—they just aren’t shouldering much risk, in the process of gaining an edge.

“This isn’t to say that Paltrow, Delevingne, Johnson, and Allen haven’t furthered the cause of American sex positivity—they just aren’t shouldering much risk, in the process of gaining an edge.”

Last week, Frank Ocean and his jewelry brand Homer listed an 18-karat yellow gold, diamond-encrusted cock ring for $25,000. They marketed it on Instagram, posting a pixelated nude of someone (maybe Ocean himself, as the vaguely-worded caption simply reads “PHOTO: frank ‘PACO’ ocean”) wearing the ring in the shower or bath, covered in suds. It broke the internet, setting off plenty of semi-viral tweets and getting the artist trending on Twitter.

It might be the biggest reaction yet to a celebrity undertaking of this sort, outside the bounds of white women’s pleasure; a worthy challenger might be Charlie XCX, with her rumored autographed douche, or Lady Gaga and her Chromatica jockstrap. Granted, these aren’t sex toys so much as sex accessories—and though they’re marketed to gay men, they still benefit the white, cis celebrities who made them, by way of garnering press, bolstering a provocative reputation, and strengthening connections with communities they support, but ultimately aren’t a part of.

Maybe the Homer cock ring will compel more people—of more identities—to explore sexuality and pleasure, and the products on the market that are already geared toward those goals. It’s not like the average consumer will be able to drop a quarter of a million dollars on something only a select few, probably, will ever see. In the meantime, we can take it for what it is: a conversation starter, a boundary-breaker, and a much-needed reminder that fringe culture never came from celebrity—they’re just the ones taking it mainstream.