Manscaped Crop Reviver Groin Spritz | $11 | Amazon
Manscaped Electric Groin Hair Trimmer | $70 | Amazon
Sometimes a tweet warrants, nay, demands your attention. Such a tweet came across my timeline on the evening of April 23, 2020.
I mean, look at this thing. What a tweet. Get a load of this here tweet. The nerve it takes to suggest that the populace substitute an afternoon caffeine fix or remedy for hunger pangs with spraying something on their junk (or “spritzing their balls” as men’s groin-care juggernaut Manscaped might say) is just such an astonishing combination of words you can’t help but take notice.
I reacted accordingly.
I had so many questions. Just what is a “ball toner”? What did it do? What did it FEEL like and how would that feeling provide the user with the aforementioned mid-afternoon pick-me-up? The journalist in me needed answers, as did the person who loves to overcommit to a bit on Twitter. In no time at all I’d ordered a bottle for myself.
Manscaped, as previously mentioned, is a brand that has made waves in recent years with their line of quality groin-care products for men ranging from electric trimmers (the sound logic being that you shouldn’t use the same pair as you do for your face) to skincare for your nether-regions. They’ve also made waves for their relatively blunt advertising, which you can easily find if you go to their website and then to YouTube, where if your experience is anything like mine the ads will then play before every single video you watch for the next two weeks. Still, they’re clearly doing something right. Boasting nearly 18,000 Twitter followers, they’ve blazed a trail in a field few have dared venture into.
Where were we? Oh, testicle spray. It finally arrived and man, I gotta tell ya, there’s a unique sense of dread and adrenaline that comes with spraying something on your balls when you have absolutely no idea what it’s going to feel like (especially when your only real context for it is that it’ll be a “mid-afternoon pick-me-up”). I didn’t know if I was in for something hot or cold, tingly or soothing. All I knew was that based on the ingredients listed on the back, the product contained (among other things) water, witch hazel, and aloe. In other words, I was still in the dark. What would happen if I didn’t like the feeling? What if I liked it TOO much? I’ve got an addictive personality and the last thing I needed was to start burning through bottles of ball tonic, keeping every delivery a secret from my significant other like a teenager ordering dirty magazines off of eBay. But I had already committed to the review (and, perhaps more importantly, to the bit). I had to move forward.
I decided to follow Manscaped’s advice and use it in the mid-afternoon after going for a run (I don’t wanna brag or anything but I can do up to 2 miles without puking). I showered, dried off, applied my five-step skincare regimen because even in quarantine I’m not some kind of savage, and then braced myself. The tiny container felt heavy in my hand, carrying inside of it the weight of fear and failure alike. The fate of my loins fit in a 2oz bottle.
I inhaled. I said a prayer. I spritzed.
Reader, it was delightful. All my fears, all my anxieties washed away like tears in the rain. I take back that tweet, I take back any unkind words I cast towards the good people, nay, saints that created Ball Tonic.
In retrospect my apprehension to try the product stemmed from my perception of it as a “pick-me-up,” which seemed to imply that spritzing it onto my balls as they so desired would like, give me an energy boost, I guess? And in my head the only way that could happen would be through a sensation that got your heart rate pumping, likely something intense, tingly, and somewhat akin to rubbing IcyHot directly onto your loins.
Rather, Manscaped’s Crop Reviver provides a mild, glowing warmth around a minute after contact. It’s entirely pleasant and if anything I feel the brand should market it as a leisurely applicant rather than an energizing one. It’s much more of an after-a-long-day-of-work ball spritzer than a 3PM remedy for hangry vibes.
I never thought I’d find myself wholeheartedly endorsing any ball spray a Twitter advertisement recommended me, nor did I expect to enjoy it so much I stopped halfway through writing this review to use it again. 2020 is truly unpredictable.
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