Looksmaxxing: is it right for … anyone???

by Danny Tyree

“If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue Or walk with kings, nor lose the common touch …If you can chug-a-lug protein shakes while doing crunches and not throw up too much…you’ll be a Man, my son!” – apologies to Rudyard Kipling

Did you see the “Wall Street Journal” article headlined “Young Men Pursue Perfection to Extremes”?

The WSJ warned of a dangerous new trend among adolescent and young adult males called “looksmaxxing.” Yes, it’s the XY chromosome version of the “body image” obsession that has worked sooooo well for females over the years. (“Don’t give me that size zero malarkey. I majored in physics. I want a size absolute zero dress!”)

Manifestations can range from simply overindulging in skincare products to going in debt for an emergency hair transplant to (I kid you not) smashing yourself in the face with a hammer to achieve “a defined jaw line.”

(I’m good with definitions myself. Moron: “someone who smashes himself in the face with a hammer to achieve a defined jaw line.”)

Making bets with friends about insane weight-loss goals is another troubling aspect of looksmaxxing. Collecting on wagers is even more traumatic. (“Ha! You missed your goal by five pounds. I win. Cough it up. No, not your lung!!!”)

Social media influencers have fanned the flames of self-destructive impulses. (“Junior, I suppose if all your friends were jumping off a bridge, you’d jump off, too.” “It depends on whether the total stranger on Instagram said bridge-jumping was good for my glutes.”)

On a positive note, at least the gluttons for punishment who spend hours agonizing over photoshopped bodybuilders on social media occasionally have religious experiences. (“The nighttime sky makes me feel so insignificant. Thank you, God. Thank you, thank you, thank you! Oooo…there’s the Big Dipper of Dr. Macho’s Good-for-what-you-imagine-ails-you Elixir!”)

I don’t think I’ve missed much by being born too early for this pill-popping, supplement-gulping, blemish-obliterating trend. Sure, I’m glad my naturally occurring broad shoulders were one of the features that attracted my wife; but everything else is gravy. I simply heeded my mother’s commands to “Don’t look slouchy” and (to the chagrin of gym owners and cosmeticians) have been running on autopilot ever since.

Even contemplating my navel is too exhausting, so I certainly don’t feel the need to fixate on six-pack abs.

I don’t even indulge in the (futile) old-man stereotype of sucking in my gut when a sexy young woman walks by. No, I brandish a tin ear-horn, make music with my left knee and pontificate why Alaska and Hawaii should never become states.

The WSJ didn’t make it clear who the looksmaxxers are trying to impress. Their peers? Potential mates? Potential employers? Potential voters if they run (naked, through icy terrain) for office? (“True, I’ll double your taxes and exterminate the state bird. But look closely: I’ve got almond-shaped eyes. Almond-shaped eyes!”)

I joke about the subject, but pay attention to the impressionable young men in your sphere of influence. Encourage them to be healthy and well-groomed, but explain the need for moderation. Let them know that perfection is a myth and would be fleeting even if it existed.

And make sure they have the tools for making good life decisions.

When the only tool you have is a hammer, every problem starts to look like a face with a poorly defined jaw line.

Danny Tyree