Big money and powerful interests have entirely rebranded drugs like cannabis, mushrooms, and ketamine in the 21st century.

Today, millions of Americans can buy their pot legally in places that resemble Apple Stores or take powerful psychoactive substances in plush therapeutic settings. Cocaine, however, has yet to see the kind of tech-fueled makeover that changed the public perception of those drugs—but these luxury products in my Instagram feed may just give it a glow-up.

Though you might not instantly see them as drug paraphernalia, on closer inspection, many of these products are offering to serve a need that no real person has ever had. Consider, for example, this video demonstrating use of a SLYD pouch, a small leather pocket with a magnetic clasp. The ad shows a person loading a small quantity of a powdered substance into the $39 pouch, and a caption exhorts the viewer: “Stop using that sketchy bag for your electrolytes.”

The visual comparison with a resealable plastic bag containing whitish electrolyte power should make it clear what is seemingly being suggested here. The custom inscription of the word “BAG,” common drug slang, on the leather sachet dispels any lingering uncertainty. Because while the world has never wanted for a convenient way to carry electrolytes around in one’s pocket, a miniature wallet for cocaine—or other powder drugs like ketamine and MDMA—does have some consumer appeal.

It turns out that such accessories are widely (albeit stealthily) marketed on Instagram. An online store called Magic Items sells its own take on the small magnetized leather pouch; it’s called a Wildcard, comes in various sizes priced from $60 to $100, and is stamped with the logo of a rabbit in a jester hat. The company’s Instagram page also features a demonstration with electrolyte powder, though some of the comments on the post give the game away: “Will a dog still be able to smell through it?” asked one prospective customer. Another post shows a Wildcard next to a plastic dime bag, advertising it as “anti clog” and “luxury,” whereas the more common means of carrying “electrolytes” is “hard to open” and “single use.”

“In 2022, something changed,” reads a page on Magic Items’ website explaining the invention of the Wildcard. “Everyone wanted to be out again—at parties, on rooftops, in the desert—feeling good with music thumping and friends nearby. The world was alive, and everything just wanted to work better. We all needed a water-tight container that was low profile and stylish, but there was no great option available.”

A similar brand, FattyPack, has drawn comments from Instagram users observing that its product is well-suited for holding drugs, and recently posted a demo on how to attach a key to the bag—a useful tool if you’re going to be scooping powder out of it.

The makers of the SLYD pouch did not respond to a request for comment. Via Instagram DM, a representative for Magic Items denied that the company is selling drug paraphernalia or promoting the use of illicit substances, both of which would violate Meta’s advertising policies and guidelines on restricted goods and services. “It is a multi-use bag for perishables,” the rep said of the Wildcard. In an Instagram DM, a FattyPack representative says: “Since we don’t promote our product for drug use, we’ve had zero issues with Meta ads. While some customers may use it that way, we leave that to individual interpretation.”

Meta spokesperson Erica Sackin tells WIRED that it is investigating a number of the brand accounts mentioned in this article. The company said it routinely conducts sweeps in order to crack down on users who violate their policies on illicit drugs.

The various mini-wallet manufacturers have some plausible deniability when it comes to their leather goods. SLYD, for example, mostly touts its sleeve as a convenient carrying case for nicotine pouches. But the makers of high-tech nasal straws are a little more out in the open. First, there’s Bumpskē, a stainless-steel gadget that wouldn’t look out of place in a James Bond film, touted as a superior straw for the snorting of cacao. (A supposed European club craze for raw cacao “snuff” in the late 2010s led one enterprising Florida man to debut a snortable “Coco Loko” powder in 2017, though you can be the judge of whether this trend ever took off.)

Bumpskē’s Instagram page presented the device as a luxury essential for music festival and club settings, complete with an LED light at the tip to facilitate use in darker environments. Aside from having “bump” in the name (a common term for a small dose of cocaine), the account, which was removed after WIRED reached out to Meta for comment, was packed with not-so-subtle allusions to the drug, from a scene in Disney’s animated Alice in Wonderland where Alice sticks her face into a giant mound of sugar to images of the device set against scenes of ice or snow.

Then you have Snogo, which sells a wide range of spring-loaded designer straws that can be worn as necklaces, somewhat recalling Sarah Michelle Gellar’s cross pendant coke spoon in 1999’s Cruel Intentions. They even sell a few all-in-one products that function as both a “bump straw” and carrying case for your, um, cacao. (As with Bumpskē, the website and social media copy indicate that the straw is intended to be used solely for the consumption of cacao powder.) Snogo also has clubwear available, including a bedazzled $110 ballcap with special pockets for stashing your straw and money.

On its Instagram account, also deleted after WIRED contacted Meta for comment, Snogo cultivated a flashy neon nightlife aesthetic and pitches its products as part of your “festival survival kit.” There were regular references to snow, along with promises that a Snogo straw will make you “the life of the party” thanks to the “inherent decadence” of its design and hashtags like “#discreetbumps.”

Rachel Froehlich, executive customer care manager at Snogo, tells WIRED that the brand works to “ensure our advertising, branding, and product messaging comply with applicable platform policies and advertising guidelines.” She adds that Snogo products are meant “for use with legal substances such as cacao and other lawful powdered products, and our marketing is designed accordingly.”

Both Snogo and Bumpskē maintain brand accounts on TikTok, though their reach on the platform is more limited than it was on Instagram—Bumpskē has just two followers on the platform. TikTok did not immediately respond to a request for comment on these pages.

Because Meta’s ad guidelines prohibit the encouragement of “the consumption of illicit, recreational, or other potentially unsafe drugs, products, or supplements,” even something like the “post-party recovery” drink Soft Landings could potentially run into trouble depending on how the company pitches the beverage on Instagram. Most of the brand’s descriptions of a “bender” or all-night rager followed by a rough morning are vague, but many of its posts appear to nod at drug use. One of its taglines—“Love the sesh, hate the comedown?”—invokes common British slang for drinking and doing drugs.

A Soft Landings spokeswoman explicitly references club drugs in one Instagram video. “When you take molly, it drains your brain’s battery to zero,” she explains, using the colloquial name for MDMA. “That empty, foggy, terrible feeling—that’s the comedown.” She goes on to claim that Soft Landings “recharges you overnight.” The caption on the video asks: “Big night on the [pill emoji] this weekend?”

Reached for comment as to whether Meta’s moderation team had ever directly communicated with Soft Landings about its Instagram ads, a company representative declined to discuss the matter and requested that WIRED not include their product in this article.

Still, it appears that Meta won’t necessarily nail you right away for this sort of marketing, even if you pay to push customizable nose straws and dime-bag alternatives into users’ feeds. You may need to buy your cocaine and MDMA in person, but on Instagram, the high-end accoutrements for the party life are rarely more than a click away.