Loose Lips Buy Yachts: The Grotesque Online Marketing Of Genital Cosmetic Surgery
According to a new study published in BMJ Open, women who go online seeking information on genital cosmetic surgery are met with misleading and inaccurate information.
The study - which consisted mainly of its authors Googling “designer vagina” and recoiling in horror at the disastrous lack of clinical information - stressed the significant concerns that no lower age limit is given for any of the elective procedures, that no information is given pertaining to the unknowns and anecdotal nature of their clinical claims, and that the variety of bullshit labels the surgeons give the surgical options is confusing as fuck.
Among the findings of the study's Google search, which I recreated for investigative purposes, were the pervasive ideas that ugly, weakly functioning vaginas will put off potential lovers, that slovenly untrimmed vulvas ruin relationships, that a wrinkly lady cookie will make you look old, and that women who don’t have the vaginal morphology of a Barbie doll are doomed to suffer from the weight of the emotional knowledge that they are lesser beings. Reading all of it, it was pretty damn weird.
I’m sure few were shocked to learn that crafty surgeons hawking their labia-slicing laser skills would resort to shame, embarrassment, implications, and subtle insults to sell ethically dubious cosmetic wounding to psychologically pliant heteronormative women.
But never mind the ethics. This is advertising genius.
I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume that the ladies who are getting this surgery are straighter than a surgeons scalpel. Because really, anyone who has spent any quality time nuzzled up to a lady peach is going to know that these surgeries are complete bullshit designed to rake in the cash.
So, I did my research. There’s "clitoral reduction", G-Shot", "laser hymenoplasty", "stem-iris labia sculpturing", and "Designer Vagina’s" to name a few. All nifty surgeries to snip, tuck, and tighten the nether regions of insecure, rich ladies. And while the descriptions of the myriad of pussy procedures were interesting, I admittedly mostly looked at before and after pictures. Page after page of clinical pornography, starting with labia artificially stretched out like O’Keefe batwings, the urethral catheter already in place, and ending with clipped edges, razed pubic hair and pitiful yellowed bruises. Pictures that catalogue the cash flow resulting from taking something that looks like a flower and turning it into something that looks like a scar. Many of the post-op vaginas were the genital equivalent of a face with the lips torn off, all gums and hard angles and unsettling scar tissue.
And therein lies the genius. After all, these women obviously didn’t know that their vaginas were fine to begin with. Male bodied folk have the dubious benefit of external genitalia, flopping forth and front for the world to see in every locker room and public bathroom across the globe. By adulthood, most men have seen enough dick to know how they measure up against normal folk and porn stars alike. Like it or not, if you have a weird penis, you’re probably going to know.
But not the ladies. No, even in the most nude of the nonsexual naked times, women walk around with their genitals tucked sweetly between their legs, nestled away from prying eyes. Betwixt the thighs of every woman lurks a vulva as unique as her fingerprints. With nothing to compare herself too, she begins to wonder. To assume the worst. To fret that she is excessive, ugly, smelly, weird, wrong, too dark, too light, too fleshy, too soft, too much.
And one day she Googles “designer vagina”.
Cue flashing dollar signs.
Thanks to the carefully crafted copy on the soothing-yet-demonic genital cosmetic surgery websites, she is suddenly stricken with the panicked realization that she is, indeed, the owner of a grotesque downstairs smile. Her vagina is weird. Obviously, her worst fear is true: all of her childhood masturbation definitely made her vulva asymmetrical and that one year spell of regular deep dicking back in college unquestionably made her love tunnel looser than dead turkey neck. The baited trap - that if she Googled, it must be true - is set in the cache of before and after pictures.
These pictures confirm that she is the owner of a crotch disaster because all of the women in the before pictures are totally, 100% anatomically normal. That’s the advertising genius. The ‘before’ snatches may be biological perfection but the vulnerability inherent in simply Googling “designer vagina” belies such deep physical insecurities that the merest whiff of confirmation sends these women fist first into their bank accounts. The women who Google simply don't notice that the before shots are normal because they are so afraid.
Afraid of what, though? Of being unique? Of being displeasing? Of their own genitalia?
The natural extension of cosmetic surgery from its bread and butter, our human billboards (faces, breasts, asses) to our deepest, darkest crevices is brilliant. Everyone knows how their nose compares to other people’s. Only people who eat pussy know what real world pussy really looks like.
Please note how this form of advertisement capitalizes on the golden pairing: a legitimate lack of knowledge and borderline disastrous body dysmorphia. With no normal to compare to and a deep seated fear of all things weird and Lovecraftian, doctors can elegantly swoop in and ply their trade. There, there, I know it’s hard to accept that you have a squirrelly and unattractive vulva but the good doctor is here to slice up your bits and make you a star.
Which brings me to my sales pitch.
The surgeon’s website: Overwhelmingly designed to look like a kitschy ocean beach rental property, complete with seafoam green and peach motif. Plays soothing spa music without any method of shut off, other than full on computer mute. There is an astonishingly perfect lady butt in silhouette on the front page, along with the following copy in Papyrus typeface.
LADIES! Does your butthole look like a butthole? Do you ever wonder if your husband thinks that maybe shit comes out of the special place between your bottom pillows? Do you actually poop out of your sex rosebud? Gross! Beneath the firm, pink ridges of your anus lies a dark cavern of wonder in need of artificial lubricant, but remember ladies, it’s not a poop farm! It is natural to worry about an unsightly butthole when your husband spreads your asscheeks after $2 margarita nights, but let’s be honest: your asshole looks weird. Do you suffer from the following pre-surgical interest symptoms?
- Pooping out of your back pussy (“anus”)
- Fecal odor within your anal womb (“rectum”)
- A backdoor lady hole that can accommodate a penis with minimal pain (“loose sphincter”)
If so, you may be in critical need to asshole alterations. We provide surgical options with the utmost confidentiality and butthole respect. Keep your husband from assfucking his best friend’s teenage daughter: Try our patented Colon Re-Route and Pleasure Portal Smooth and Tighten package today.