I’m worried that capitalism has run out of things to do

These boxer briefs may auger the demise of Western civilization.

I recently had occasion to shop for underwear. I’ve never understood underwear companies’ approaches to the marketing and packaging of their products. For women, the experience involves going somewhere like Victoria’s Secret, wherein they are subjected to dozens of images, often larger than life size, of 20 year old professional models who spend several hours a day at the gym, receive the most cutting edge body, skin and hair treatments, and whose images are nevertheless still Photoshopped beyond any plausible female form. None of them are smiling, and most wear a look best described as vaguely disdainful, as if a dog on the other side of the room just broke wind.

It’s not quite as bad for men, primarily because there are no retail chains dedicated to our undergarments. Which is a relief. Still, I’ve always found underwear shopping to be a somewhat uncomfortable experience, particularly in our modern era of boxer briefs. It involves spending long minutes looking at row after row of outlines of men’s private parts in a public space. Like the Victoria’s Secret models, the men’s bodies are chiseled to absurd degrees. They all somehow have negative body fat, and appear to be hung like circus elephants. It’s an interesting marketing approach, designed to make the target audience feel simultaneously discomfited and inadequate. 

Fortunately, this is the Modern Era of online retail, which allows us to be uncomfortable in the comfort of our own homes. In my quest for new underwear, rather than venturing out and doing my part to support America’s dying retail sector, I decided to try Amazon. I had no idea what I was about to encounter. As my screen filled with page after page of bulging male bits, after a bit of searching I settled on a brand called Bamboo Cool.

I was ready to make my purchase when I noticed several pictures on the side of the product page.

Not one but two feature a man of indeterminate European background wearing nothing but his boxer briefs while holding a tennis racket and a ball. In the first one he appears to be preparing to serve, while staring directly into the camera with a degree of intensity typically associated with would-be political assassins. In the third pic he’s in said skivvies, this time holding a white basketball. In yet another he’s once again in his undies and carrying a large gift wrapped package with a smaller shopping bag dangling from his hand underneath. The picture literally says, Look at this guy’s package!

I don’t know if this all constitutes the worst attempt at subliminal advertising in history, or if the Europeans are up to something and someone should alert the State Department. Maybe both.

The final picture, though, was the kicker. It’s a man’s body from torso to upper thighs, again wearing the boxer briefs. So far so good, except that he has his right hand stuck halfway inside the front flap. The outlines of his fingers are clearly visible on his male parts, which for good measure (pun intended) are Photoshopped to hilarious proportions. The caption helpfully informs us that the picture is meant to highlight a product feature called the 3D U-Pouch, which — and here I quote directly — “Provides more room for men’s private parts.” More room than what, the Apollo 11 space capsule?

After browsing the Bamboo page, I couldn’t help myself. I had to see what else Amazon has to offer the modern underwear shopping man. There’s a brand called — seriously — Saxx. Their tag line is “Life-Changing Underwear.” Saxx models are among the few realistic male models I’ve ever seen. They have some dad bod, some love handles. But the pictures are still uncanny. One guy is wearing a pair of Saxx boxer briefs, along with socks, shoes and a black ski cap, and nothing else. It’s as if he was getting dressed to rob a convenience store and got distracted by something off camera. Maybe by a 3D U-Pouch.

Another picture shows a pair of hands holding the underwear’s elastic bands open, with a pair of golf balls simulating, well, you know, in what the company calls the Ballpark Pouch (trademark).

In case you were unclear on the concept.

One Saxx model bears more than a passing resemblance to the creepy bald Nux character from Mad Max: Fury Road. He is inexplicably wearing a gold wristwatch with his underwear. Still another Saxx model is wearing underwear, socks and shoes, and sunglasses, while reading from what appears to be a business file (“Ms. Jones, please come to my office. It’s time for your performance review.”)

One branding team missed a huge opportunity, calling their company Jock Mail when obviously they should have called it Junk Mail. One of their competitors got it right, calling their product BAMUNDER (all caps). Their product description helpfully advises, “For your health, it is recommended that you change underwear in 3 months.”

Then there’s the David Archy brand, which boasts a “two pouch system,” described as “an ergonomic separate pouch that provides excellent support and comfort, keeping everything securely in place.” Because men have been clamoring for centuries for ergonomic pouches in their undergarments that keep everything securely in place. I for one am sick of poorly engineered underwear that allows everything to flop hither and yon.

A brand called GOOTUCH (“go touch?” “goo tuck?”) advertises “SGS Certified ODOR CONTROL and Advanced Silver-Ion Tech that block heat, sweat & odor instantly, 15% more breathable, Less sweat” — and, the most crucial benefit — “deeper rest.” Their models include a man wearing just underwear and a VR helmet, suspended in midair in a vaguely religious pose in some sort of sensory deprivation chamber. Then there’s Shinesty, featuring a “ball hammock pouch” that “SUPPORT THE FAMILY JEWELS, provides all day support & comfort, eliminates the need for adjustments, and keeps your goods off your legs.” I hate it when my goods touch my legs.

That said, Shinesty may have the greatest pattern on men’s underwear I’ve ever seen: The legs are stars and stripes, and the pouch features the head of a screaming bald eagle. The eagle’s beak is exactly where you’d expect it to be. ‘Murica. The model is, of course, wearing a wristwatch.

And then there’s this:

Capitalism has definitely run out of things to do. The expression on the dog’s face is exactly what my face looked like while underwear shopping on Amazon.

The award for best slogan goes to a company called Step One: “Ethically Made. Designed In Australia. Helping You Down Under.” Their featured picture is six men arm in arm with their backs to the camera, wearing nothing but their underwear while standing on the peak of a snow-covered mountain. Their underwear features a “3D POUCH THAT KEEPS THE BOYS IN PLACE — big balls, small balls, odd balls — no matter what you’re packing these men boxer briefs not only make your soccer balls look good but surround you and your boys perfectly, keeping everything in place.” This wins the Guinness World Record for most euphemisms for male private parts ever in a single sentence.

An undoubtedly completely legitimate company called 5Mayi offers a “pack of 5 men’s athletic underwear in a frosting zip bag, which is convenient to reserve man underwear, especially while traveling or outdoor activities.” It’s fun to imagine what kinds of outdoor activities would require a guy to carry multiple pairs of underwear in a translucent bag. White water rafting, maybe. Meanwhile, if you chose EKQ underwear, you’ll sport “big pouch men’s boxers that highlight your charm and confidence.”

Even in the hyper-competitive world of online men’s underwear sales, some brands nevertheless barely phone it in. The Easechoo (gesundheit!) brand highlights “a wide range of color choices, many of which are new and hard to find in the market.” Apparently the market to which they refer is Kyrgyzstan, because the pictures feature exactly four colors: white, black, blue and green.

Things are marginally better on the women’s side. Most of the pictures are PG and straightforward. Oddly, though, unlike the men the vast majority are AI generated – poorly. Many of the brand names sound like words chosen at random from languages not spoken by human beings in centuries. They include Kiqnsam, GNEPH, Kalapa, Eiggam, Benirap and ZIPYDC (“Zippy Dick?”). Mind you, GNEPH and Eiggam both have more than 2,000 product reviews. Benirap has at least 6,900. For humanity’s sake I hope at least 6,599 of them are fake.

All this ergonomic ball sac technology and creative branding had me wondering what other bonkers stuff is for sale on Amazon. Boy howdy, the site did not disappoint. For a mere $49.99 you can procure a twelve pack of Lester and Melba’s Fixins Outrageous Crazy Unique Flavor Soda Pop Sampler, with flavors including ranch dressing, buffalo chicken wings and bacon. Again, the pictures: One is of a guy smiling maniacally while holding a fistful of actual bacon in his right hand and a bottle of Lester and Melba’s Fixins Bacon Flavored Soda in his left. One review stood out. “Tania” gave Lester and Melba one star. She wrote, “Not the Best Buy for the money,” suggesting that there is an acceptable price point in the free market for bacon flavored soda.

According to Amazon, Lester and Melba’s is “frequently purchased with” something called Dirt Soda, which retails for $9.49 per 12 oz. bottle. There are 450 reviews, meaning there is at least a statistical possibility that, somewhere in the United States, a man was recently wearing Saxx underwear while drinking Dirt Soda. Again, ‘Murica.

Also, you can buy uranium on amazon.com. Seriously. The product description includes this disclaimer: “We Do Not recommend handling the soil or opening the vial or removing the leakproof plastic stopper.” Important safety tip.

Still, nothing topped the men’s underwear department.

I did a web search for “how many products on amazon are fake,” which led to a story in GeekWire in which the company reported seizing 15 million fake products or knock-offs in 2024. Amazon is also reportedly using AI to help identify frauds. Let’s hope the AI ramps up soon, because if my underwear shopping experience is any indication, it’s possible that a huge proportion of products are either fake or sketchy. Amazon sells 4.5 billion products per year, meaning it’s intercepting a tiny fraction of those fakes and frauds.

Anyway, that wraps up our consumer report for the day. Now you’ll have to excuse me. I’m headed to Target to buy some underwear.