Most women I know currently have or at some point have undergone some sort of cosmetic procedure. Botox, filler, injectables. Veneers, a nose job.
In 2026, it’s common — nay, expected — for women to make aesthetic changes in order to adhere to society’s ever-changing beauty standards.
A nip here, a tuck there — a half syringe of filler in the top lip.
Recirculate the blood from my left arm into my face, burn the top layer of my skin off to stimulate new stem cell growth, a little CoolSculpt around the jaw. The skinny BBL, the fox eye lift, the Upper blepharoplasty, 360-degree liposuction, the fated 18th birthday rhinoplasty.
In 2024, the global cosmetic surgery and procedure market size was evaluated to be worth just shy of $84 billion. While men dabble (ahem, Todd Chrisley and those guys from “Botched”), the clientele is majority women.
As a woman, your reputation and career success often feel heavily contingent on the way you present yourself. Your appearance dictates much of the assumptions people make about you — is she put together? Is she wealthy? Is she successful?
As a man, bald and fat doesn’t directly translate to lazy slob. Fat and old can be jolly, wise or wealthy. He could just be comfortable — aging.
While I think we can all agree that men aren’t burdened with the same level of societal expectations that women are, they obviously have insecurities too. Why do you think every medium-height man you know is 5-foot-11?
But it’s the receding hairline that is the kiss of death for a young man. Why do you think the hat stays on in the pool? In the gym? Most men make peace with the hat, accepting that it will stay on indefinitely, now an extension of themselves.
Enter the Turkish hair transplant.
Like many major cosmetic surgeries, it’s exponentially cheaper to go outside of the U.S. Go to Mexico for a new rack, Brazil for a new a–, and South Korea if you want double eyelid surgery. Turkey just happens to be the hair transplant capital of the world.
In America, a standard hair transplant costs upwards of $13,000. In Turkey, the procedure comes to under four grand — and that’s including travel and lodging.
Hair transplants are statistically very low-risk — the minor complication rate is 0.1%. While side effects include bleeding and swelling, it’s only temporary. Expect your scalp to be fully healed around month nine.
Countless TikTok videos of swollen, bandaged heads shamelessly crowding the Istanbul airport — men vlogging their own experiences with the procedure and promoting their transformative results. Millions of views and impressions later, the Turkish hair transplant is competing directly with your raggedy baseball hat.
In 2022, as a result of its virality, one million people traveled to Turkey specifically for hair transplants. This contributed approximately $2 billion to the total $4 billion in revenue coming from health tourism overall.
Maybe men want to look young, too! Maybe they don’t want to do the whole salt and pepper thing — maybe they also want to look like perpetual 20-year-olds.
In recent years, the discourse has heavily evolved around plastic surgery. The increasing accessibility and casual attitude have made cosmetic work feel standard. It’s just another step in the self-care routine. Now, most clinics recommend women start Botox in their early 20s. It’s preventative. It’s just maintenance. It’s not something you need to hide.
So much of modern entertainment goes directly from creator to consumer, so authenticity is both ideal and lucrative. Kylie Jenner telling TikTok that her boob job was exactly “445cc, moderate profile, half under the muscle” just makes her that much more relatable and down to earth.
Despite the changing attitudes around plastic surgery, most men aren’t as brazen about their surgical tweaks.
A number of male celebrities have been rumored to have undergone hair transplants. Adam Levine, Chris Evans, Tom Brady, David Beckham, the list goes on. And in my personal opinion, Harry Styles wasn’t just taking a two and a half year break from music. It would be weird if Brady came out and said, “3,500 graft FUE, single-hair grafts in the front, doubles behind, temple points rebuilt.”
But things are changing. With the help of the Turkish hair transplant, not only can men defy aging for the low, low price of $4,000.99, but the virality of the procedure is helping to destigmatize men’s participation in the beauty economy.
Men are protective of their masculinity. It’s not their fault we live in a world so attached to gender norms— so judgmental and toxically masculine. Well, actually, historically speaking, it is their fault.
It’s not gay to have a skincare routine, groom yourself, or use more than just a four-in-one shampoo for all hygiene purposes. It shouldn’t be an exclusively feminine thing to invest in your appearance.
Maybe in 30 years, the Turkish hair transplant will be as normal for men as Botox is for women now.
The judgment or apprehension men might feel about getting the surgery is a result of a double standard — effort for women is required, effort for men is emasculating. So while I think men should feel comfortable getting the transplant, I’m not exactly arguing for the normalization of plastic surgery.
Men should feel empowered to do what they need to make themselves feel confident. But the receding hairline is not the mark of death they might think it is. It’s like this: If I were a man for a day, I would get really fat. I would wear whatever I wanted and just move through the world, not caring.
So men, (though I doubt there are many reading), I speak directly to you. Do what you need to do to feel confident, societal pressures be d—ed. But don’t take the fact that the bar is on the ground for granted. It’s a blessing that no one cares what you look like. Get the transplant if you want, but don’t get it because you think you need it.
Don’t be ashamed of your receding hairline. And don’t be ashamed if you go to Turkey to get it fixed. The sexiest thing you can be is confident. Don’t birthday makeup yourself!
Whether that be confidence in your God-given hairline or in your decision to get a transplant, what matters most is your happiness with what you see in the mirror.
Claire Thatcher is a freshman at UT this year studying journalism and media. She can be reached at [email protected].
Columns and letters of The Daily Beacon are the views of the individual and do not necessarily reflect the views of the Beacon or the Beacon’s editorial staff.
