It all started with a Slack message: "Just been emailed asking if we'd like to review this—am trying not to be offended," a WIRED editor wrote in a group channel. A company called Ballsy had developed a scrotal deodorizer made with lavender, aloe vera, green tea, and chamomile. Beneath the ad copy—"Your pits aren't the only place that need deodorant"—was a photo of a black bottle, boldly labeled Sack Spray. Most colleagues reacted with the "face vomiting" emoji. Not Zak Jason, head of our research department. His cursor hovered above the "face with raised eyebrow" emoji. He thought: Was Sack Spray for real? Could it truly keep the "funk off your junk" and "improve your daily comfort, confidence, and skin health"? Then he Googled "ball deodorant." Sack Spray, it turns out, is no prank product. It is part of a Silicon Valley–imagineered and venture-capital-funded explosion of scrotal potions over the past half-decade or so. Testicles today can be sprayed, spritzed, scrubbed, and smeared with countless concoctions. What, Jason wondered, was all this sudden zhuzhing of and attention to the nutsack really doing for men? So he did what any skeptical journalist should: order a suite of ball-care products and start calling their makers and users. Thus began his balls-out quest to achieve the perfect scrotum, chronicled in this frank, enlightening, and hilarious trip to the gloopy, tapioca-scented final frontier of men's self-care. It's the first story in a new WIRED series called Rabbit Hole, where our writers follow their obsessions, untangle curiosities, and report back from deep dives. —Jon J. Eilenberg | Articles Editor |
