Lately a strange facial hair dichotomy has been occupying my thoughts, perhaps some of you have been inflicted with similar distractions.
IMAGE: CHELSEA LAUREN/REX/SHUTTERSTOCK
Throughout my adult life I’ve spent way too many hours focused on the eradication of any hair-like apparition daring to materialise on my chinny chin chin. Yet at the same time my appreciation for the male beard has grown to envious proportions. It all began with the barbers’ shop.
In my eyes, over the years these caverns of cool with their swaggering staff and secret seedy discussions, have morphed into exclusive clubs. Clubs that I will never be a member of since certain elements of my anatomy cannot be denied. Instead I’m left to languish in the pristine white sterile enclaves where, let’s be honest, most of the chatter centres on patrons of the aforementioned caverns.
Beyond the caverns my envy has now extended to the growing number of facial hair options available to men. Sure, women have a vast array of makeup paraphernalia, but no amount of toner can match the camouflage properties of a full beard. Sadly, when it comes to facial hair women only have two options, the socially acceptable look of a hairless Egyptian cat, or the wicked witch come grandma tendrils usually confined to nursing homes and Disney movies. Mind you the increasing number of octogenarian bloggers turning up to events in their oversized circular glasses, and five layers of beads, does give me hope for a future that accepts the recalcitrant female facial hair or two. But I digress. Back to all those hirsute male chins.
Beginning in Ancient Rome, when Anglo-Saxon men starched their facial hair into a pointed shape called the Vandyke, beards have become the epitome of manhood. Today they can be symbols of dominance, sexual virility, prestige and cool.
With the trend now firmly entrenched I think there needs to be some rules. I mean if we’re contemplating a future where there’s a rule dictating that drivers must avoid speed humps while transporting a dog, then surely there should be something in place to protect the unsuspecting eye from the visual pollution that is a misplaced beard. Here’s seven to start with.
The Five O’clock Shadow
First seen in 1986, the five o’clock shadow is a look that can be carried off by most men. Less appealing though is the sandpaper effect as it grates off half your face should you find yourself in an overheated clinch with its owner. Still, on the odd occasion when it comes attached to the man of your dreams it can be worth it. If you’re lucky, you can get away with telling people that you’ve been on the receiving end of the latest dermabrasion technique. The glow from your soul will help pull this off, just don’t smile too widely or one of the micro cuts might become a chasm, rendering you in need of hospitalisation. Considering this I decree that the owners of these beards, pay for their partners monthly skin rejuvenation treatments.
The Bushranger
In 2014 the Ned Kelly beard was named ‘word of the month’ in the Australian National Dictionary Centre, a tad delayed perhaps considering the beard began its life in the 1800’s. Consisting of a longer beard and shorter hairstyle they are said to be hard to maintain. While it’s softer feel is a bonus on female skin, there has been at least one reported incident of it causing breathing issues when trapped inside a makeshift suit of armour. Hence this style should be confined to men with rockstar looks, a bow-legged swagger and an aversion to tinned helmets.
The Lumberjack
First impressions of the lumberjack beard can raise concerns about laziness and personal hygiene. Nowadays however there’s a lumberjack beard oil that softens the whiskers and conjures up a woodsy forest hue, evidently. This style looks best when combined with a flannel, red and black checked shirt, and a set of shoulders honed at the gym, if not chopping piles of wood. Only then can its owner jump the queue of any hip club.
The Cakehole
One of the trendiest options in years gone by was the goatee, although it must be said that lately fewer have been encountered in the wild. On some men, the forgetful perhaps, it appears to serve as a reminder about which orifice the food goes into. When opting for this style there is one rule that must be followed. If you find yourself sitting still for any lengthy period, do not, I repeat do not, open your mouth and turn your head slowly from side to side. If you don’t heed this advice you may find a ping pong ball being dropped into the crevice.
The Accountant
Worst of all tough is the accountant. All too often we see one of the aforementioned facial furniture styles residing on a face that it shouldn’t. The kind of mummies-boy soft features never seen in a police line-up or villainous rap sheet. The owner is not fooling anyone, they just look like a try hard, and no one wants that. Should you still want to go ahead with this style, avoid carrying a briefcase.
The Reveal
There is of course one rule that applies across all bear styles. All beards have the ability to hide a lack of chin, neck or personality, which can be quite disconcerting when the owner decided to shave it off. Any thoughts of going sans beard must come with a warning. The last thing a woman wants is to find out that her uber cool bad-boy husband has suddenly morphed into an angelic prepubescent lad. This can be jarring to say the least, particularly if the new look could render the woman in danger of being locked up for the things she’s done with said lad.
The Father
My final rule for consideration is that any fathers-to-be take a moment to ponder the sanity of their offspring, particularly their sons. Imagine for a moment that you’re a baby boy entering the world. Having survived the most terrifying roller coaster ride ever designed, you arrive. The first thing you see is a pair of slightly terrified eyes positioned above a thick infestation of matted hair. After a moment the face, your fathers, beams with delight at the little mini-me he’s been granted to mould into a better version of himself. But instead of a welcoming smile all you see is a slight nervous twitch amongst the follicles. As you get lifted high to cries of “my boy”, only one thought occupies your brain “oh no … I’m a yeti.”
End
This piece appeared in Swan Magazine.
For a collection of similar pieces you might be interested in my new book Wit and Wisdom available from Amazon as an ebook or printed copy.
