Michael Aronwits, a registered aesthetic nurse, took me back and began with the kind of skincare assessment I imagine people with actual routines answer very confidently. He asked what products I use on my face. A few, none of which I actually know the names of, I reply. Then he asked what I do for my butt. A swipe of CeraVe body lotion after a shower when I remember, I respond. Otherwise, I said I mostly trusted that it’s still back there and leave it at that.
The questions weren’t just to make me confess how little attention I pay to my backside. Aronwits says he asks about a patient’s skincare routine to understand how they care for their skin and whether anything they’re using could cause irritation or interact with the treatment. “This gives me a sense of the overall health of the skin barrier and helps me tailor recommendations that fit into a routine they’re actually likely to stick with,” he says. “A great treatment starts with understanding where someone’s skin is before we even begin.”
Aronwits left the room and told me to undress completely—no gown, no towel, no strategic draping of any kind—then lie-face down and let him know I was ready. There was nothing sensual about the setup whatsoever. I simply hopped on with my socks still on my feet, pressed my groin against the paper, and hoped my ass would make a strong first impression. Thankfully, he said the skin on my butt generally looked good at first glance, which felt like the kind of compliment you don’t realize you’ve been chasing until someone with a medical license gives it to you.
As I expected, this wasn’t an appointment that allowed much room for modesty. Thankfully, modesty has never been a major obstacle for me. If I can’t show my friends a nude and ask whether it deserves to be sent or deleted, what kind of friends are they? If Aronwits needed to see every inch of my ass to improve it, then godspeed.
What I hadn’t expected was just how involved the treatment would be. The service isn’t merely someone rubbing lotion across your ass, slapping your cheeks, and wishing you well. Aronwits explained that the ass deals with constant friction, pressure, sweat, and occlusion, all of which can contribute to breakouts, folliculitis, ingrown hairs, rough texture, dryness, and hyperpigmentation.
The process begins with a gentle cleanser to remove sweat, oil, bacteria, and buildup without stripping the skin barrier, followed by toner for hydration. This isn’t your typical baby wipe situation, and nothing about having your butt professionally cleansed feels casual in the slightest. He intentionally lathered the cheeks slow, overlapping circles, never rushing. I could tell he was taking inventory as he went—where the skin felt dry, irritated, or generally in need of professional help.
Then came exfoliation time using Future Method’s Butt & Body Scrub, developed by Bespoke Surgical founder Dr. Evan Goldstein specifically for this area. I expected something far more aggressive, as far as scrubs go, but it was relatively civilized. There was a little bit of grit to it, but nothing that made me tense up or had me consider whether I was paying for, ahem, another type of service. Aronwits is firmly against attacking your ass with a loofah or aggressive exfoliating gloves, since too much friction can cause microtrauma and inflammation, potentially making ingrown hairs and dark marks worse.
He then examined my bum for any clogged follicles and ingrown hairs, performing extractions only where he deemed appropriate. I have a pretty high pain tolerance, but for the record, I didn’t feel much of anything, which I choose to believe means my ass is naturally flawless. Aronwits says the approach is client-dependent. Gentle pressure or cotton-tipped applicators can sometimes be enough, while other situations call for sterile lancets or fine tweezers. He always first examines the skin under magnification, with the goal of using “the least traumatic approach possible.”
