I Tried the Viral Butt Crack Leggings, and My Rear Has Never Looked Better

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I like to consider myself a realist. I can cope with the fact that I likely won't be a contestant on The Bachelor who will profit off of sponsored Instagram posts for the rest of eternity. I understand that, at 25, I probably am not cut out to be a TikTok star… even though I'll never give up trying. And, perhaps most importantly, I recognize that I'm someone who does not have a butt.

My lack of ass is something that I came to grips with early in life. Thanks, in part, to the boys I went to middle school with who pointed it out, and thanks, also in part, to my eyes, which showed me that the pubescent young men were unfortunately correct in their observations.

Since those lunchroom days, the relationship between my butt and I could best be described as that of cordial roommates. I know it's there and acknowledge its existence, but I'm not going to go out of my way to introduce it every day to the outside world. The indifference is something I grew used to. At times, a pair of leggings or jeans would make me do a double take and have a few seconds of gratitude for my backside, but there was never really a bonding moment between us until this very year.

And I owe it all to the viral TikTok butt crack leggings.

After writing about these things (and watching countless videos of women looking absolutely incredible in them), I decided to give the leggings a chance. To give my butt a moment of my time, if you will.

If I could describe this experience in a few words, it would be: jaw-dropping. These under-$30 leggings transformed my barely there behind into a full-on badonkadonk. The peach emoji hardly does my butt justice when it's in these bottoms.

The first thing I noticed after putting them on was how much rounder and less droopy my butt looked. It was as if it was lifted and plumpened instantly. Those squats I promised myself I would do but never did? They no longer matter, because in these it looks like all I do is eat, squat, and breathe.

I was initially worried about these leggings lacking support, but they proved me wrong. There's compression in the stomach area that makes for a bit of a slimming effect and some squeeze throughout. They don't feel as tight as pairs from other brands, but that's not really the point of these, is it?

If I were to guess why these leggings make such a difference, it'd be the subtle pattern they have. The raised knitting cinches at your butt crack then expands in different directions, creating a rounded highlight. It draws the eye without going too overboard. And, for the record, the cinched center doesn't give you a wedgie or any discomfort — the soft material prevents that from happening.

Wearing these viral leggings is basically like getting a butt-lift minus the pain and bill that follows. I know seeing is believing, so here's the part where I will do what I warned my mother about: show you, dear readers, my butt.

Here it is on the left in the butt crack bottoms. On the right, you'll see a reference photo of it in one of my favorite pairs of non-butt crack leggings.

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Yeah…

So, would I recommend these? Yes. Absolutely, yes. Would I buy another pair? I already have. Would I wear them around the rude boys from middle school? No. They don't deserve the view.

Below, shop the butt crack leggings that are worth the hype and worth every penny (imo).

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Shop now: $22–$30; amazon.com

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Shop now: $22–$30; amazon.com

Courtesy

Shop now: $22–$30; amazon.com

Courtesy

Shop now: $22–$30; amazon.com