Looksmaxxing: Self-care or narcissism?
How far will you go to be the best physical version of yourself? Workouts at the gym, facials at the derm, even cosmetic procedures and surgery if you must? These are par for the course, but lately, with the popularity of looksmaxxing online, more extreme methods are being resorted to—like cheekbone smashing and leg-lengthening procedures—along with a new form of toxic masculinity, all part of the manosphere where alpha male dynamics reign.
Looksmaxxing is not entirely new. There was the 1994 “metrosexual”—heterosexual men who adopted traditionally feminine or gay-associated grooming and fashion.
But this 21st-century version is a much more aggressive maximization of physical attractiveness, originating in the 2010s male-dominated incel (involuntarily celibate) forums—communities of men who feel unable to find sexual or romantic partners, often developing deep resentment and misogyny. Ironically, the term “incel” was coined by a queer Canadian woman named Alana in 1993 to create a support group for lonely people of all genders, before it evolved into the male heterosexual group it is today.
In the Philippines, we have softmaxxing “glow-ups,” popularized by celebrities like the Belo babies, who rely on skincare and cosmetic procedures, alongside gym regimens like the one actor Piolo Pascual has maintained for years, making him a billboard mainstay for Bench Body, side by side with much younger endorsers. Also breaking stereotypes are influencers like Kenn Dayandayan (@kennnito), who shares makeup tutorials tailored for men.
Beyond skincare, more obsessive looksmaxxers attempt to alter their faces for a chiseled profile, with sharp, pointed eyes and a strong jawline. German content creator Marvin Würzner, for instance, teaches facial exercises like the “Zygopush” to hollow out cheeks and the “Hunter squeeze” to make eyes appear more wolf-like in shape.
A rulebook has emerged on how to become a “successful male,” or “gigachad,” which 20-year-old influencer Braden Peters, aka Clavicular, claims to have achieved—albeit controversially. Obsessed with his looks, he advises followers on how to improve theirs or “ascend,” which he deems essential for success in life—from romance to career opportunities.
Using his own vernacular, he “mogs,” or outshines, anyone below his self-proclaimed 10/10 status: six-foot-two, 180 pounds, a 31-inch waist, a defined midface ratio, and a clavicle width (from which his alias is derived) of 19.5 inches. He only concedes to actor Matt Bomer, whom he considers to have the most harmonious face. He plans to match Bomer by undergoing double jaw surgery and increasing his height to six-foot-six through leg-lengthening surgery, despite the risks.
Growing up in Hoboken, New Jersey, Peters began injecting testosterone supplements at age 14, engaged in facial bone-smashing with a hammer to supposedly strengthen his cheekbones and jawline, and used crystal meth and peptides to stay lean. He even performs “dick-ups,” placing weights on his penis to increase girth.
Now based in Florida, Peters sells $50-a-month courses on hardmaxxing through physical alterations and pharmaceuticals, regardless of how pseudoscientific or medically unsound they may be. He has, in fact, admitted that testosterone use has made him infertile. But, according to him, “knowing I can have sex with a woman is better than the deed itself, which is going to gain me nothing.”
He has gained significant popularity, reportedly earning $100,000 a month through his Kick livestreams, and even modeled at the recent New York Fashion Week for Elena Velez, the heterodox fashion designer whose theme revolved around artificial intelligence, transhumanism, and surgical brutality. Wearing a crumpled white shirt waxed to appear soaking wet, he sent the internet into a frenzy, with comments like “Drenched in Cum Fit” and “Soaked in Dripping Nut.”
He was considered the perfect muse for a show exploring people’s “almost suicidal desire or impulse to be beautiful.” Coincidentally, The Beauty, the new Ryan Murphy TV series, imagines a world where people covet a virus-based injection that makes them physically perfect but comes with fatal, horrific consequences.
In an interview with right-wing political commentator Michael Knowles, Peters described Vice President JD Vance as “subhuman” for his recessed side profile and for being obese, asking, “How are you fat and expected to lead a country?”
Although he and Vance may be politically aligned, Peters claimed that in a hypothetical 2028 presidential race between Vance and California Governor Gavin Newsom, he would vote for the latter because Newsom is a “chad” who could easily mog the less attractive Vance. He doesn’t spare women either, calling actress Sydney Sweeney “malformed,” citing an extremely recessed upper maxilla and “eyes of doom with no infraorbital support.”
Peters’ other right-wing affiliation is with podcaster Nick Fuentes, with whom he recorded a video singing along to Kanye West’s song Heil Hitler, reflecting his alignment with Aryan ideals and “eugenics.”
While claiming that looksmaxxing is not racist, his use of racial slurs and casual misogyny—such as saying women shouldn’t have the right to vote—has made him a darling of extreme right-wing circles. He has even exploited his girlfriend and another woman, provoking them to fight over him and livestreaming the altercation. The incident led to his arrest on battery charges.
Together with his followers—particularly teenage incels—Clavicular’s ultra-masculine movement is becoming a gateway to something more insidious. By telling these vulnerable fans, many of whom belong to Gen A, “how worthless they are,” they become easy prey when the influencer positions himself as the solution.
If they follow his advice and successfully secure romantic relationships, fine. But what happens if they continually fail? Many end up resenting women, blaming feminism, and decrying the “impossible” standards they believe women impose on men. It is full-blown misogyny, detrimental to both physical and mental health, and a regression to darker times. One can’t help but wonder: weren’t we better off with metrosexuals?
