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Stories to Protect Your Buzz · Aug 5, 2026

Face Smooth Like Balls

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Lilly Mercer · Stories to Protect Your Buzz

Not the title you thought would work as clickbait, but here we are. And now you’re wondering why it works.

I’ll tell you.

It’s because we’re so sold on staying young, tight, and attractive that if someone said, “This cream will make a man’s balls smooth,” half of us would be one click away from buying it in a heartbeat.

Granted, I don’t want to watch the video testimonials.

But I do want smooth skin that’s free of animal byproducts, botulism, and guilt.

This whole thing started on Substack during a conversation that developed among three women and me. The friend in the UK gave one of us a nickname: “nads.”

We paused.

Then asked her to Google it.

Some tried to soften it.

I did not.

“It means balls,” I said. “Fucking Balls. Hard no. We cannot be calling our friend that. I like her too much. Also, if I’m honest, I compare my eyelid skin to that exact category of anatomy far too often these days, and it is never meant as a compliment.”

Somewhere in that spiral, I thought: If a cream can truly tighten the skin on a man’s balls and make it smooth… then smother me in it until I look like a butter sculpture at the Minnesota State Fair.

So I knew then we had lost the thread, or rather we found it.

The conversation really pointed out two bunny holes I could go down- first, what other products have we normalized? And second, will I ever be at peace with my wrinkles?

Number two is a hard pass (but I’m working on it). So number one (where the fun lives) that’s where we will go…

My whole life I have been told what is wrong with me, usually before I notice.

Advertising now exists as an extension of us; say you dislike something, boom, it’s on your feed; you literally carry your insecurities in your pocket or purse.

Thank you, Instagram; my neck does seem off, and like I might need Arnica, or an intervention. Thank you for pointing out my under-eyes are deeper than the Grand Canyon, or like two large antiquated suitcases. And wait, what, that one tiny jar can fix it all? A 68-dollar promise to restore radiance. I’ll take it.

Funny, I used to think I was immune to this type of bullshit.

How could I be tricked?

I used to tutor college-level marketing courses, and I have seen how this works. Advertisers never sell products; they package whatever insecurity you have and sell it back to you, but this time, in pretty packaging. It is carefully wrapped, beautifully lit, and free shipping; one click, and don’t worry right now it is 20% off, and 10% of the proceeds go to save baby Pandas. I didn’t know about the pandas; I should help them… click.

I wish this were a new phenomenon, but I know it has been around almost as long as humans have.

After my grandmother passed, this was evident. I found a Costco-sized bottle of diet pills hidden in her closet. They were illegal, clearly, hidden with tattered Spanish labeling; I remember holding it and thinking, This is what 5,000 pills look like. This is what five thousand messages of you are never enough, or rather too much, looks like.

I thought we were better than this. We are not. The packages are upgraded though, and the tactics just keep getting better.

This is not new; corsets were once shapewear. Bleach baths became beauty regimens. Arsenic became “detox.” Jawline tape became TikTok tutorials. Sauna suits became “wellness.”

At one point, people were literally trying to contract tuberculosis because it made them look thinner and paler.

We will do almost anything if it comes with the promise of being more acceptable to ourselves.

And yet—

If my friend texted me tomorrow and said, “I found a cream which made my face unbelievably smooth, so smooth they even tested it on balls to show how well it works,” I would still be halfway to buying it before I finished laughing at myself.

That to me is the true problem: all of us see it’s crap, but we are addicted to the promise.

My son took me into the bathroom the other day and explained “mewing” to me after I heard the word and didn’t know what the trend was. It is essentially a beauty hack for a more defined jaw, complete with various things you can buy to “mew” better. He is explaining jaw positioning and where to place my tongue, and I sit in silence. He was tracing his handsome face as if it were a blueprint that needed revision, and why did he know this?

That jaw goes back many generations. So many generations of women that lifted, tucked, covered, and adjusted.

My age doesn’t feel like “my age” anymore; it feels like something to manage, since the person staring back at me doesn’t feel like me.

Half of me wants to Google a serum to fix this, and the other half is laughing.

It seems I am stuck in a negotiation loop.

One part of me thinks chips (with protein) and a good skincare regimen can fix anything. That part of me is always one click away from a targeted ad claiming “It can make men’s balls smooth”, so imagine what it can do to my skin?! And the one that says, “I know these tricks; I have students who are being tricked by this language and the psychology behind it, and I taught them better.”

And yet…

I see a woman in a beige room, with soft lighting, talking about “renewing her confidence,” and my graduate degree has left the house, along with all my critical-thinking abilities. I am a crazed raccoon digging through internet garbage and seeing what will make me feel like I have my life together.

To me, this is the part no one is talking about. How we keep being sold possibilities as if they were products, and why I started creating fake ads that run every Monday.

I have to laugh, or I’ll cry, but you wouldn’t know, as my face would stop moving from all these good damn products.

I want a more organized version of me, the more attractive version, the more disciplined and controlled, but the product isn’t giving me that. That is giving me debt, shame, and guilt. I have purchased many things, and by breaking down why I did it, I was able to break the cycle of my spending and start facing myself.

Please consider becoming a paid subscriber to read the rest of this story and support my writing.

A quick August update: I’ll be publishing one article every Wednesday, each with a paid extension. My kid is home full-time for the summer, and I want to be at least somewhat present for him while he’s still willing to hang out with me. 😊

Thank you for reading, sharing, subscribing, and making this writing life possible.

Link to 20% off annual plans: https://lillymercer.substack.com/3307e8a6

Read the original on lillymercer.substack.com

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