Welcome to our Big Dick Energy issue. We explore BDE through several lenses: Feminist (Dustin), historical (Clarke), psychological (Waxman), cultural (Lehman). We pay homage to The Big Penis Book, visit a private collection (Blay), look back on a few legendary penises in showbiz (Burt) and the many –ça va sans dire– in Playgirl magazine… Fasten your seatbelts.
It’s been real quiet on the Big Dick Energy front lately. Gone are the weekly headlines praising the latest celebrity It-boy to inherit the title. Pete Davidson, the man touted as having ignited the entire conversation back in 2018, has yet to name a successor. And since “having a boyfriend is embarrassing now” anyways, do we actually even care who’s next in line for the throne?
Maybe we shouldn’t. Because BDE wasn’t just meant to be about anatomy. From its viral inception, it was framed as an energy anyone could possess. It was always about confidence and self-possession, yet the public image remained definitively masculine. But it’s 2026. And with all the talk of ushering in the matriarchy during the year of the fire horse, and the general cultural fatigue toward red-pilled Manosphere content, the timing feels more apt than ever for a vibe shift. And since no one wants to “girl boss” anymore (cringe), and Tiktok’s “dark feminine” and “black cat” energy don’t quite nail the essence of where we’re at, what exactly does BDE look like for today’s woman?
When Big Dick Energy entered the Zeitgeist in 2018, it sparked an overdue conversation about modern masculinity. The term helped point out the difference between masculine performance and the real thing. Refinery29 had it right from the start. BDE, they argued, was less about peacocking, and more about security. We finally had the language to explain the difference between men who are comfortable in their own skin, as opposed to those constantly checking if someone is watching. BDE showed us the difference between true confidence versus posturing. Between a man not needing to prove a thing, and insecurity dressed in suit and tie. The toxic masculine archetype stands as the antithesis of BDE. He sends unsolicited dick pics. He mansplains and shouts over women in meetings. He mistakes vocal volume for authority. He sees threats as power. If the notion of BDE has taught us anything, it’s that it is a rare beast, even among men themselves.
The feminine equivalent, while at times quieter, remains nevertheless unapologetic. It’s still about maintaining an unshakeable confidence and high standards for oneself and others. To succeed in a man’s world cannot be reduced to being simply impressive, when to be a woman existing under patriarchy is a feat in and of itself.
For high profile examples, we need look no further than at one of the areas in which power has always been most difficult for women to infiltrate: politics. Take Nancy Pelosi, who has spent decades commanding the very spaces designed to exclude her. She carries the confidence of a woman who’s lived through the history books themselves, and knows parliamentary procedure better than anyone else in the room. Her proven resilience has kept her showing up long after her colleagues have retired to write memoirs and play golf in Florida.
Take Hillary Clinton. Hate or love her, the woman has been scrutinized and vilified perhaps more than any woman in American history. Her stamina is so impressive that she could write the manual on refusing to be cancelled. She lost an election and resurfaced with a podcast, a memoir. Whatever your opinion on her policies, one cannot deny the courage and gall required to stay in the public eye long after the entire world tried to shame every aspect of your life over decades and watched you bleed out.
Then there’s the new guard. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez was a bartender before getting into Congress. Jasmine Crockett, a former public defender in rural Texas. They both arrived in Washington like they’d been there all along. When Crockett hit Marjorie Taylor Greene with “bleach-blond, bad-built, butch body,” she didn’t later apologize for it. She stood ten toes down and sold T-shirts with the slogan. AOC cooks dinner on Instagram Live while explaining policy to her audience when traditional media tries to filter her out. Voters have been patiently waiting for leaders who make their own rules and who don’t perform power but embody it. These female politicians don’t borrow from the playbooks of men, their BDE is wholly theirs.
Moving onto pop culture, consider Rihanna. Pop star. Entrepreneur. Headlining a Super Bowl halftime show while pregnant. Building a cosmetics empire and lingerie line through inclusivity. And at every step, she’s maintained the ultimate energy of bad bitch unbotheredness. And with a killer wardrobe to boot. Carrie Fisher survived Hollywood, addiction, and being reduced to a hot body in a gold bikini. She emerged as an icon of perseverance, while refusing to perform the role of “graceful celebrity” that the industry expected of her. Fisher was unapologetically herself through and through, up until the very end. And of course, the world has been blessed with six decades of the one and only Cher. She’s never stopped reinventing herself, and at seventy-eight, she’s still going. That kind of longevity simply doesn’t come from seeking approval.
So here’s what the internet has seemingly forgotten: women have naturally carried all the hallmarks of Big Dick Energy all along. Because BDE was never really about who inherited the title from Pete Davidson. It was about recognizing an energy that had always been there. And it turns out the empty throne waiting for its next heir was never a throne. It was a crowded room full of women who’ve been holding it down, making themselves living breathing examples of what it takes to beat a man’s game, and look damn good while doing it.
