“Holecare” Is Here. Do We Need It to Be?

There was a time, perhaps even in recent history, that every element of the universe—its physics, of course, down to every atom, but also its spirit, its vibe, its social climate, its fashion mores, its exquisitely knit fabric of relativity—would have conspired in perfect harmony to make my butt look fine, even good. Where my unfortunately Brutal lower back and admittedly Classical thighs met was something acceptable to the human eye for centuries. Pants had a higher waist and inseam, way back whenever. Instead, my cosmic yoke is that I was born into a time when beauty standards for butts have trended towards the otherworldly, and it’s not good enough to have something “fine” anymore.

What I lack in shape I make up for in sanitation, due to my adoption of perhaps the only product on the market both guaranteed and endorsed to wash both ass and hole: The bidet, which is centuries old and yet, at least in the United States, as common a household object as a butter churn. Mine is the Omigo, a remote-controlled seat attachment that is also heated, and it is one of my most prized possessions without hyperbole. But I happen to be of a demographic (gay) and sub-demographic (a “receiver,” as Tyra would euphemize) uniquely obsessed with the region—another yoke around my neck, and one I carry with slightly more pride than I do my ass, which kind of drags behind.

We love big butts, especially when they are not ours. Repeatedly, studies have shown that when evaluating buttock size, humans are actually more responsive to hip-to-waist ratio, with .65 or .7 often ranking highest in terms of attractiveness—a cinched waist that softly blooms into a fuller butt. (Real people are usually closer to .8 and up, while a Barbie doll clocks an uncannier .56.). A 2022 study found that those who consume TikTok, Instagram, or online pornography were likelier to be dissatisfied with their own lower figures. Another survey of 9,000 plastic surgeons across the world indicated that the size preference is globally distributed, with a preference for fuller butts in places like Latin America and less so in Europe.

In 2000, reports the American Society of Plastic Surgeons, there were fewer than 1,500 butt augmentation procedures performed in our great nation; in 2022, there were over 30,000, the vast majority using fat grafts and often referred to as the Brazilian Butt Lift (BBL). While it’s true that the pressure to present a perfect big ass is more intense in some cohorts than others, with women representing the majority of augmentation recipients, it’s also true that even more straight men are getting BBLs than ever. And people of all ages are generally fascinated with the area. The zone has “been gaining momentum across gay and straight communities for years,” writes Evan Goldstein, an ano-rectal surgeon, in his new book Butt Seriously. A survey he conducted among 880 people revealed that 74% of American Millennials and 70% of Gens Z and X had tried anal intercourse.

So it’s either curious, ingenious, or both that a number of American brands have emerged in the past decade with skin-care products intended exclusively for that skin between the cheeks. Dr. Goldstein launched Future Method, which vends a variety of anal accessories, including a post-play exfoliant, in 2019. “It’s all well and good that we’re putting products into the space,” he tells me. “But the reality is we just need to teach appropriate hygiene.” After all, the prevailing form of anal care in the U.S. involves dry tissue paper and nothing else. Whether our cheeks and anus really are the final frontier of skin care, or simply another bankable cosmetic fixation, is a question that has unfortunately plagued me since seeing an Instagram ad for a “hole serum,” and one I felt duty-bound to probe.

Whether our cheeks and anus are the final frontier of skin care, or simply another bankable cosmetic fixation, is a question that has plagued me since seeing an Instagram ad for a “hole serum.”

For most of its history, anal skin care was unlikely to be prescribed unless medically necessary. A 2008 article in Practical Gastroenterology once described the unique climate of perineal skin, frequently terrorized by contact with “water, electrolytes, digestive enzymes, bile salts, or enterotoxins such as C. difficile,” that worsen in cases of diarrhea or other fecal incontinence. If you’ve never seen a case of incontinence-associated dermatitis and wish to spare yourself the opportunity, I will simply tell you: Despite its terrible and angry appearance, it manages to seem more painful than it looks.

One patient described in the article found relief using an active combination including zinc oxide and lidocaine, plus incontinence wipes and an ointment from a company called Coloplast. Coloplast was incorporated in Denmark in the late 1950s, and is a pioneer of what we now unfortunately term “holecare.” These medicated formulas have been prescribed for treating issues from hemorrhoids and fissures to skin damage resulting from incontinence for decades at least, but until recently hadn’t aspired to department store counters or even endcap displays at drugstores. The field of “cosmetic proctology,” which attends to these issues using plastic surgery, is still nascent. Neurotoxin injections in the area, with their muscle spasm-quieting power, have been shown to help with fissures and pain, but Dr. Goldstein’s clinic also boasts that they can provide a “wrinkle-smoothing” cosmetic benefit.

Newcomers looking to elevate and plunder the anal care field have tended to focus on marketing toward gay men. Studio Ready, which launched as a coffee scrub, trademarked the line “Sit on His Face with Confidence” in 2017. “It’s marketed as more of a sex toy than a skin-care product,” the founder, Alex Gimenez, tells me. “But it’s very luxurious. I make all of our scents in Grasse.” The rapper Azealia Banks sells a homemade, “non-medicated intimate cleansing balm for men” called BussyBoy, which she’s sold since at least 2018.

More recent attempts have been made to take anal care mainstream, as in the case of Asset, whose sole SKU, a “hole serum,” is made with allantoin and vitamin E and intended to soothe frequent irritation or inflammation. Its creator, Chad O’Connell, credits his own chronic anal irritation with inspiring Asset. O’Connell originally worked in advertising, and in 2015 launched Whisper, a direct-to-consumer bidet—an enterprise that was self-therapeutic. “Using a bidet helped a little bit,” he says. He still dealt with fissures and hemorrhoids regularly enough that he began formulating a solution himself, which resulted in Asset.

He also saw an opportunity to conquer a new beauty frontier. “There are all these brands that represent good hair, good face, but no brand represents the best version of your butt,” says O’Connell. One dermatologist, two years, and four chemists contributed to Hole Serum, which launched in 2023.

“There are all these brands that represent good hair, good face, but no brand represents the best version of your butt.”

Despite the particulars of its marketing, the holecare category can benefit anyone. A straight person is just as likely to enjoy the perfumed scrubs of Studio Ready as a gay one, which is why they’re stocked at the Standard Hotel Spa in Miami Beach. What makes Hole Serum distinct from other entrants in the holecare market is its therapeutic use-case, which is completely divorced from the act of anal sex. It looks more like Topicals meets Coloplast. Asset’s paid marketing runs through Meta, on Facebook and Instagram, which has been successful enough that O’Connell hasn’t needed to advertise on other platforms. “It’s going better than our best-case scenario,” he says.

An Instagram ad for a new beauty product usually incites one of a few questions in its viewer, a common one being, “Do I need that?” In the case of anal skin care, the answer is probably no. “I always encourage my patients to focus routine care on the basics—daily warm water and gentle soap,” says Rudy Guadron, NP, the clinical director of anal health for Callen-Lorde Community Health Center specializing in the prevention and treatment of anal cancer. He adds that each ass has its own harmonious bacteria cultures, and that harsh chemicals can “upset this important natural balance,” resulting in irritation or worse. A simple water-powered bidet can help encourage hole health, Guadron says.

Some topical products are good, even great to use, but for very specific reasons—like chronic irritation, or a good time. The majority of people don’t need anything beyond whatever soap is in their bathroom. But, Dr. Goldstein points out, it’s important that the area dries completely. “Many people will go to sleep wearing underwear, tighter clothes, or using heavy blankets,” he said. “Remember: That area needs to breathe.” Otherwise, you have an environment for unbridled bacteria growth that can lead to irritation, tears, or infections. “All because people aren’t educated.” That’s how you care for your ass: Smarter, not fancier.

“It’s really about basic hygiene,” Dr. Goldstein adds. “Tackle that before you buy products.”

Originally published in Allure US.