Dr. Sommer was not a real doctor. He was a persona (originally created by journalist Martin Goldstein) who answered burning questions about masturbation, first kisses, wet dreams, and the horrors of gym class changing rooms. The column was revolutionary because it treated teen sexuality without panic or shame.
meant nothing yet. “Stage 4” meant getting there. “Stage 5” meant fully developed. But the magic number was 11 ? Wait—that doesn’t fit the 1-5 scale. Ah, here’s the twist: The actual Bravo Bodycheck used a more detailed system in some issues, going up to stage 11 for overall pubescent maturity (including body hair, voice change, and genital development). bravo dr sommer bodycheck thats me 11
So here’s to Dr. Sommer (real name: Martin Goldstein, who passed away in 2018). Here’s to the Bodycheck, with its clinical lines and terrifyingly frank labels. And here’s to everyone who ever studied that chart in secret, heart pounding, wondering: Am I normal? The column was revolutionary because it treated teen
Let’s break down why this phrase has become a nostalgic rallying cry, what each part means, and why “that’s me 11” still makes former readers smile. To understand the keyword, you need to understand Bravo —Germany’s most popular youth magazine, founded in 1956. For decades, Bravo was the Bible for teenagers. It contained posters of pop stars, relationship advice, and a legendary column simply called “Dr. Sommer.” “Stage 5” meant fully developed
If you grew up reading European teen magazines in the 1990s and early 2000s—specifically Germany’s Bravo —certain phrases are permanently etched into your memory. Among the most iconic is a bizarre, proud, and slightly awkward declaration: “Bravo Dr. Sommer, Bodycheck, that’s me 11.”