Merriam-Webster’s 2024 word of the year was ‘polarisation’; Oxford’s was ‘brain rot’. Both could have just as easily been ‘-maxxing’ – the one suffix this year who has mogged them all. Once confined to incel message boards, the meaning of its origin, looksmaxxing, is in the name: maximising one's appearance. While the premise may seem similar to the entire skincare and beauty industry itself (who doesn’t want to look their best?), it’s become an umbrella term for what people are calling ‘pick me’ men online that encompasses everything from simple grooming to extreme (and dangerous) transformation attempts. So, in 2024, have we finally maxxed out on ‘looksmaxxing’?

The maxxing universe is split into ‘softmaxxing’ (lifestyle changes like eating better, exercising, using a gua sha, or moisturising) or ‘hardmaxxing’ (more extreme methods like taking steroids or getting cosmetic surgery). But it doesn’t end there – this year has ushered in a bizarre and ever-growing plethora of hyper-specific maxxing trends. If you invest in an Oura Ring, you’re sleepmaxxing. Washing six bananas down with coconut water? That’s potassiummaxxing. Taking a photo from a high angle? Anglemaxxing. Being consistent with your skincare is skincaremaxxing, shaving your face is now shavemaxxing, going to the gym is gymmaxxing, getting a tan is sunmaxxing, and drinking water equals watermaxxing (you get the idea). Even The Dare referred to layering different perfumes as ‘smellmaxxing’. 

Deciding to ‘looksmaxx’ to look more feminine or masculine reinforces binary norms of beauty that exclude everyone outside of them, and creates yet another playbook people must conform to in order to fit in

Interwoven among common hygiene and beauty practices are many more concerning maxxing ideas. There’s testosteronemaxxing, where young male influencers are advocating for testosterone replacement therapy to ‘get jacked’; starvemaxxing, glorified eating disorder content; and heightmaxxing; which involves attempting to get taller. Each feeds into the jacked squidward-esque approach to modern masculinity that young, so-called ‘transformation’ creators like Kareem Shami have used to gain 1.8 million followers on TikTok alone. Shami currently runs an online course that offers lessons on how to “master the art of facial aesthetics”.

Looking your best is, of course, subjective. But in the world of maxxing, enhancing your physical attractiveness does follow a highly gendered formula: men having a strong jawline, ‘hunter eyes’ (there are eyepullmaxxing tutorials for that), and a muscular physique. Across maxxing communities and messageboards, the likes of model Jordan Barrett and deceased YouTuber and bodybuilder Aziz Sergeyevich are elevated as aspirational ‘after’ figures. This isn’t surprising considering the trend’s incel roots – the suffix originally came from ‘max’ in the world of role-playing games, which means fully developing a single character trait before circulating the manosphere for at least the past decade. Still, it doesn’t mean it hasn’t bled over into women’s spaces. There is a sub called vindictapoc with 34k members entirely dedicated to looksmaxxing for women of colour. 

Dr Carolina Are, an innovation fellow at Northumbria University’s Centre for Digital Citizens, says she finds the endless stream of maxxing trends ‘concerning’ for two main reasons: it involves following beauty, appearance and health advice from people online who aren’t certified experts in that field, and it’s become an online translation of rigid gender roles. “Deciding to ‘looksmaxx’ to look more feminine or masculine reinforces binary norms of beauty that exclude everyone outside of them, and creates yet another playbook people must conform to in order to fit in,” she says. “This, in turn, can be connected via algorithmic rabbit holes to how a specific, conforming type of man or woman should behave, shaping behavioural norms.” 

It isn’t a coincidence that our feed has been filled with maxxing content during the same year as a US election that was called the “gender gap” election. Gender plays a primary role in how wellness is culturally represented, according to Dr Stephanie Alice Baker, an associate professor in Sociology at City St George’s, University of London. “In the last few years, numerous self-help gurus have emerged online combining reactionary politics and anti-feminist discourses with self-improvement advice,” she says. Keeping that in mind, it would also be unwise to believe the ideas behind maxxing are confined to the beauty and wellness space. “We've seen in the past US election how tradwives were actually instrumental towards drawing audiences closer to Trump,” says Dr Are. “We can’t ignore how political it can be to diverge from gendered, binary beauty norms.” 

For women, looksmaxxing plays out how it usually does (surprise, surprise): conforming to traditional ideas around femininity and looking thin. But there’s also a lot of overlap between the content targeted at both men and women. When factoring in that mewing for a strong jawline and achieving “hunter eyes” seem to be goals across the board, it’s abundantly clear these laws of increased attraction are all written by men. However, once again, it’s advice from men who may never have actually spoken to a woman in person and seem to have completely missed what women actually want. “I’d rather date a normal guy who doesn’t look like handsome Squidward and treats me with kindness, respect and loves me for me,” one person commented on a YouTube video about the origins of looksmaxxing. 

I’d rather date a normal guy who doesn’t look like handsome Squidward and treats me with kindness, respect and loves me for me

Not all maxxing trends are dangerous. They also aren’t just about looks. There’s moneymaxxing (otherwise known as a savings account), mentalitymaxxing, personalitymaxxing, rizzmaxxing, auramaxxing (a gamified way to elevate your intangible allure), and even geomaxxing, which involves moving to improve your dating odds and quality of life. Many maxxing trends aren’t serious – there’s irony and satire embedded into some of the ‘methods’ like bonesmashing. Except some of TikTok’s majority young adult audience may not immediately know the difference. Dr Are says maxxing content online is quickly becoming a ‘rabbit hole’ for those without digital literacy that reinforces these extreme ideas as ultimate beauty standards.  

To ‘maxx’ or not to ‘maxx’ – that is the question for chronically online this year. The misogynistic beauty ideals being projected, however, are not ‘new’ but simply repackaged. Dr Baker says that since the late-20th century, wellness culture has merged with a culture of productivity, casting self-optimisation as integral to success. Essentially, we won’t kill maxxing (or the next iteration of it) for good without addressing our desire for self-improvement at all costs. “Trends are always cyclical and optimisation inevitably creates a reaction as people resist the pressures of self-optimisation,” she says. “However, a general concern with self-improvement is likely to remain.” In other words, the pursuit of ‘maxxing’ is here to stay. (Only it may have a different suffix next year.)