In a time when Botox and breast augmentation have given way to Brazilian butt lifts and Ozempic injections, it should come as little surprise that the physical-insecurity complex has come for men. In partnership with The New Yorker, Ava Kofman investigates the promises and (unbelievably graphic) perils of below-the-belt enhancement. If you can make it through without wincing, I applaud you.
Soon afterward, the pandemic began fueling a boom in the male augmentation market — a development its pioneers attribute to an uptick in porn consumption, work-from-home policies that let patients recover in private and important refinements of technique. The fringe penoplasty fads of the ’90s — primitive fat injections, cadaver-skin grafts — had now been surpassed not just by implants but by injectable fillers. In Las Vegas, Ed Zimmerman, who trained as a family practitioner, is now known for his proprietary HapPenis injections; he saw a 69% jump in enhancement clients after rebranding himself in 2021 as TikTok’s “Dick Doc.” In Manhattan, the plastic surgeon David Shafer estimates that his signature SWAG shot — short for “Shafer Width and Girth” — accounts for half of his practice. The treatment starts at $10,000, doesn’t require general anesthesia and can be reversed with the injection of an enzyme. In Atlanta, Prometheus by Dr. Malik, a fillers clinic, has been fielding requests from private equity investors.
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