An Expert Douchebag's Guide to Next Level Stunting at the Gym and in Life

Image via Complex Original

As the Corinthian helmet was to Spartan warriors, the beanie is to mammoth dudes who scream with carnal abandon at the squat rack. This cotton head blanket tells the weight room that you're here to throw your day in a suffocating headlock (read: give zero fucks about monopolizing a half dozen machines at the same time for a superset). Even if you can only bench press the bar, a few press-on tribal tats and a knitted bonnet are all you need to be the Gold's Gym style equivalent to Humphrey Bogart. 

When it comes to the fit of weight room couture, the goal is to look like a pallet of shrink-wrapped textbooks. Size down on the form-fitting compression shirts until the outline of your abs are visible from across the gym. If—during an especially taxing upper body day—your clothes start to shred like The Incredible Hulk when he sees his name misspelled on a Starbuck's cup, then you'll know you're tailored correctly.

Documenting results one digitally filtered #humblebrag at a time is the best way to communicate one's impressive core strength to an entire network of interested parties. You probably have a lot of social media acquaintances who are worried about how those traps are coming along, so let 'em know, cuz. As an added bonus, an angled picture of your torso is a brilliantly diabolical way to get back at former Tinder dates for not returning text messages. Your pronounced triceps are going to have those girls shook, bruh.

During your work commute, one might communicate a professional facade by carrying a canvas duffle bag and an iPhone. Similarly, a person's accompaniment says a lot about his or her intentions at the gym. Carrying a milk jug that's equal parts Red Bull, rhino urine, and high-octane jet fuel is a good way to let the LA Fitness know, "Yeah, I tan four days a week, but I've also choked a dude out for criticizing my deadlift form. So, don't make me wait in line for the power rack, dawgie." Other worthwhile carry along items include: protein shakers, jump ropes, and weightlifting gloves that need to be ritualistically adjusted between every set.

Working out with bae means mirroring an ab circuit on neighboring yoga mats, screaming supportive platitudes during painful last sets, and—most importantly—color coordinating your moisture wicking Lululemon gear. The couple that sweats stunts together, stays together. 

Unless you want to look like an indecisive Border Collie trying to take a dump, stay away from squats and kettlebell swings (as demonstrated by the goon above). As good as those lifts are for your overall strength and conditioning, they're flagrantly uncool. Also, as everyone knows, resistance machines and ellipticals are for cowards. Cool lifts include bench press, curls, and—if you go to a gym with towel service—general fucking around on the TRX frame. Bonus points if you do any of the aforementioned exercises with a softball-sized wad of chewing tobacco in your mouth.

Wolfing down a can of tuna while sitting on a weight bench is the meathead's version of prix-fixe dining at a Michelin starred restaurant, only 100x more badass. If you don't have alarm clock reminders prompting your every meal, then you're not about that 20" biceps life. Bringing a plate of microwaved salmon to the gym is as important to your weight room image as amino acids are to synthesizing new muscle mass. In addition to a wraparound bandanna and Timberland boots, all serious steel pushers must carry a meal.

To roll up to the incline bench with a fresh spray tan and fishbowl full of grip chalk is to put the world on notice. This is the look of a man who pops basketballs with his bare hands for sport and downs the whites of a dozen Omega-3 enriched eggs to quench his thirst. If you want the gym to bow on your arrival, simply kick down the front door with a rusty chain around your neck and two misspelled tattoos on your ribcage. 

Like your closet at home, the locker room is your style fountainhead. So, you have carte blanche to manscape, stage a #essentialsgrid of fitness apparel, and spitball fantasy football hypotheticals with total strangers—all while wearing nothing but a pair of flip-flops. Don't let any amount of shade or side eye dissuade you from being the loose skinned boss you know you are. 

When it comes to your appearance and overall presence at the gym, it's important to be as loud as humanely possible. Whether it's a lat pulldown or conventional set of crunches, every exercise requires the unnerving howl of a steroid-addled werewolf. Doing one-armed curls with 15 pound weights? Cap off your lift by spiking those hammers to the ground with the celebratory fervor of Marshawn Lynch in beast mode. Are your obliques beginning to take form like the Mojave Desert's wind-sculpted dunes? Coordinate a passive-aggressive attack against the health club's ridiculous dress code policy by performing "chest and back day" shirtless. Becoming the crispiest hardass this side of Randy Savage is that simple.