In a culture where conversations around sexuality often linger in the shadows, one young Vietnamese entrepreneur has dared to shine a light. Phan Thị Khánh Ly, born and raised in the historic city of Huế, has traded in the safe, predictable path of a corporate job to pioneer a boldly unconventional business: a Vietnamese-made condom brand and a broader mission to normalise sexual health for women and couples.
Khánh Ly graduated from Đại học Ngoại thương TPHCM and initially worked in a fast‐moving consumer goods multinational, a career many would describe as comfortable and secure—yet she felt the tug of purpose. As she later described it, the question “Am I doing something meaningful for the community?” haunted her in the quiet hours. That question became a catalyst: she left her job and co-founded the brand PlayAh! with the mission of addressing sexual health in Vietnam, particularly among young people and women.
What makes Ly’s story especially compelling is the cultural context she is navigating. In the Vietnamese society, discussions of sexual pleasure, contraception and reproductive autonomy remain loaded—especially for women. The term “sức khỏe tình dục” (sexual health) is still treated with caution, and many young adults hesitate to purchase condoms simply due to embarrassment or social stigma. Ly observed this first-hand: although young people in Vietnam may be modern in many ways, the act of buying and carrying a condom (“bao cao su”) still carries a weight of shame.
Ly draws from her traditional upbringing in Huế, a city steeped in conservative Vietnamese culture, to frame her mission as one of transformation. “Tôi muốn phụ nữ Việt coi việc chăm sóc sức khỏe lứa đôi như chăm sóc da, chăm sóc tinh thần” (“I want Vietnamese women to regard caring for their couple health like caring for their skin or mental health”), she said.
Her approach has been both practical and playful. Recognising that high‐priced imported condom brands dominate the market, Ly and her team designed PlayAh with accessible pricing and packaging that treats the product not as something shameful, but as a fun, responsible choice for two (“player” is one of their tongue-in-cheek positioning tags). She emphasises product quality and regulatory standards: PlayAh’s manufacturing partner holds ISO 4074 certification and third-party audit approval.
At the same time, Ly knows the product alone won’t shift attitudes. She has partnered with medical experts and psychologists to run educational sessions at universities in Ho Chi Minh City, creating safe spaces where students can ask questions and share experiences without judgement. In doing so, she hopes to build what in Vietnamese might be called “văn hoá đối thoại” (a culture of open dialogue) around life, love and bodily autonomy.
Her results so far are modest but meaningful: in the first phase PlayAh sold over three million units a year. But more importantly, the messages are being internalised: she receives messages from young women who say, “Thanks to you I bought condoms for the first time without feeling ashamed.” Such feedback is the milestone she treasures most.
Ly’s journey also raises the broader question of where Vietnamese entrepreneurship is evolving. In a nation historically focused on manufacturing, agriculture and export growth, ventures like hers point to a maturing startup ecosystem—and to social entrepreneurship that combines business acumen with social purpose. The fact that she appeared on the high-visibility investment show Shark Tank Việt Nam, where her brand was one of the first condom companies to present on national television, signals shifting attitudes toward topics once considered taboo.
For the women’s rights and gender-equality community, her story lines up with a subtle but growing trend in Vietnam: younger generations, especially Gen Z, expect agency and openness. Ly recognises this. “Thế hệ Gen Z với sự tự tin và hiểu biết, chính là động lực để những thông điệp về bình đẳng giới, sức khỏe và quyền lựa chọn được lan tỏa mạnh mẽ hơn,” she said. (“Gen Z with their confidence and awareness are the force that will amplify messages around gender equality, health and the right to choose.”) vietnam.vn
Of course, the path ahead is not without its hurdles. Distributing a condom brand in physical retail remains challenging in many parts of Vietnam where shopkeepers are reluctant to stock such products openly. Even within advertising, regulatory constraints limit certain messaging. Ly sees this as part of the mission: normalising distribution means normalising choice. Her next goal is expanding into offline channels and partnering with educational institutions to integrate sexual health literacy into curricula.
In short, Ly is more than an entrepreneur: she is a young woman actively reshaping conversations around sex, safety and dignity in contemporary Vietnam. From her starting point in Huế to her classroom dialogues in Ho Chi Minh City, she is bridging tradition and modernity, stigma and openness, commerce and care. Her story reminds us that progress can start with a simple shift: viewing protection not as shame, but as power—and then inviting everyone into the conversation.
Ah, darlings, gather around. Your Spicy Auntie has something to say “in praise of the condom”—yes, that humble little bao cao su, kondom, keo an toàn, the tiny latex hero that has saved more lives, more relationships, and more reputations than any of your politicians combined. And yet, across Asia, we still treat it like a shameful secret. We buy it with sunglasses on, looking over our shoulders, whispering to the cashier as if we’re smuggling state secrets instead of taking responsibility for our bodies.
Let Auntie be clear: there is nothing more modern, more sexy, more respectful, more grown-up than using protection. You know what’s actually embarrassing? Unwanted pregnancies, preventable infections, and relationships destroyed by “oops, we didn’t think about consequences.” But a condom? Oh, honey, that’s not embarrassment—that’s foresight, responsibility, and intelligence wrapped in one small package.
Watching young entrepreneurs like our brave Huế girl Khánh Ly stand on national television and talk openly about condoms makes my feminist heart sing. This is the future Asia needs: women and youth stepping forward to normalize sexual health instead of hiding behind whispers and superstition. Her PlayAh! brand isn’t just selling condoms—it’s selling dignity, agency, and a well-deserved end to shame. If a 20-something Vietnamese woman can do it, then all you grown adults clutching your pearls can manage it too.
Across this region of ours—from Jakarta to Tokyo, from Singapore to New Delhi—we love to pretend we’re ultra-modern, hyper-connected, digital natives. But when it comes to sexual health, suddenly everyone becomes a blushing teenager. Enough! Asia, use it, publicize it, normalize it. Sexual wellness is not a Western import. It’s not dirty. It’s not immoral. It’s simply part of being human.
Let’s teach our boys that condoms are not a sign of mistrust. Let’s teach our girls that carrying a condom does not make them “easy”—it makes them empowered. Let’s teach our governments that protection is public health, not a moral panic. And for the love of spicy noodles, let’s teach our families to stop treating sexual health like a taboo wrapped in plastic.
Auntie has lived long enough to know this: nothing kills romance faster than ignorance. If the region wants fewer teenage pregnancies, fewer STIs, fewer broken futures, then the solution is already sitting on shop shelves.
So here’s my message, loud and unapologetic: Praise the condom. Celebrate it. Share it. Carry it. Use it. Asia, darling, your future will be safer—and much more pleasurable—once you finally normalize the smartest accessory ever invented.