Priya Sharma

I trained as a clinical pharmacologist before I ever wrote a word for publication. My master’s thesis was, in a roundabout way, about mucous membrane pharmacokinetics — which is the kind of subject line that empties a dinner party faster than politics. It also turned out to be an unexpectedly useful foundation for the beat I now cover.

I joined the editorial board in 2017 to lead wellness coverage, and my brief is broader than the name suggests. Lubricants are the anchor category, but I write about intimate skincare, pH-conscious cleansers, arousal products, condoms, dental dams, menstrual products where they intersect with intimacy, and the general question of what it actually means to look after yourself in this domain. I’m interested in the science, and I’m interested in the marketing lies wrapped around the science, and I’m particularly interested in the space between the two.

My editorial position on wellness is straightforward. Most consumers are not well served by the marketing they see. Terms like “natural,” “organic,” and “hypoallergenic” are largely unregulated in this category. Ingredient panels are often deliberately opaque. Osmolality, pH, and preservative systems matter enormously for genital tissue but almost never appear in product marketing. I try to write the coverage I wished existed when I was a pharmacology student who couldn’t find honest answers about my own body.

I try to be practical rather than preachy. I don’t believe every reader needs to become an ingredient expert, but I do believe they deserve honest guidance about which choices actually matter and which are marketing theatre. When a mainstream product is genuinely good I say so plainly. When a “clean” brand is charging a premium for essentially the same formula in nicer packaging I say that too.

Beyond this beat I contribute occasional health-policy writing to a couple of UK outlets, and I’m slowly learning to garden without killing everything I plant.