So recently I have been growing a moustache. It has been growing for about three weeks now. It is part of a big joke between friends. Now I admit that it isn’t the best idea especially since there have been many times where I have wished I could just shave it off. I have gown accustomed to it and here are a couple reasons why.
Facial hair is seen as a symbol of masculinity. The quicker it grows the better man you are. Full thick beard makes you able to chop down trees with one swoop, crush watermelons in your hands or drink ale without remarking about the bad taste. A proper man. One who works a manual labour job and is married to a homely stocky lady. Even though I cant I have to admit growing a suicide beard seems quite cool, you look mangy and instantly people are curious about who you are and why are you in that mood? Unlike a dumb haircut an unkempt beard is a clear way of showing the world that you are dealing with something much more important than Football, women or films. That is the beard though; the moustache is a different beast all together. In an era of preening men, a moustache is a clear stand against the current trend of metrosexuality. It sits proudly on top your lips as a constant reminder to anyone that you consciously left it here to be admired. No chance disguising it as a nonchalant gesture or whimsical fancy. You have left this hair here sitting on top your avenue to speak to the world. You unwittingly draw attention to it by stroking it. There are no violent episodes of scratching your moustache as one would with a beard. I like to think of it as a better statement of masculinity than the beard.
The funny thing about it is that all the aggravation I have been receiving about it has been from females. They mock me for not growing anything substantial over the past three weeks. They are right, I haven’t done much, I have a clear distinct line that if properly cultivated could look like John Walters, which obviously isn’t the look that I want to go for. Other men can have the luxury of crafting something that resembles poirot or Magnum P.I. I stand next to them with a mocha stain above my lip. I find myself resorting to things such a deliberately drinking milk to cause a milk tache. As if the dairy coats my bumfluff and creates a bigger one like a dairy and hair power rangers megazord. The women seem to view it as if it is another cock size, pissing up the wall, test of male dominance. The simple fact it isn’t, moustaches are rarely smart choices for any man. All the other people I have seen with them are people on the fringes of society. Normally that would be a good thing but I am thinking of 40 year old bald fat white men in biker jackets singing along to “I’ve got a brand new combine harvester” in the middle of oxford street in December. Next to their goth wife who is wearing a veil. Or maybe I could follow the example of the man whom I saw riding a penny farthing, in the middle of rush hour. These are not people whom anyone should take any advice from. The simple fact remains that the thing that most people associate with moustaches are sex offenders. Something I was reminded of when I was on the bus and 12 tweenage girls all sat around me. Their chaperones couldn’t wait to move them further up the bus. I don’t blame them. Someone with a thin moustache is just asking for trouble. Just in case you are chaperoning young kids here is a quick moustache guide for you.
Thin and small tache – Wise, smary and not to be trusted.
Thin and long tache – Devious, probably plotting something overly complicated about the end of the world.
Thick and Bushy – playful, might use it as a comedy prop, loving and caring and maybe even owns a moustache brush.
Hope that helps you, I can’t wait for Saturday when I can cut the dastardly thing off.