It's day three of mustache week, and I continue to forget how ridiculous I look. Stache man.
I live in Portland, arguably one of the most 'stache friendly places in all the world, but the best you can hope for in the land of 2015 is good natured ribbing from those you know, and poorly veiled disgust from those you meet. It's very hard to resist the urge to explain the why of this caterpillar crawling across my face.
But with the revulsion comes novelty. I got to spend an hour in front of the mirror, removing my recently grown scraggle of a beard in stages, capturing for all of time how I look with chops, the goatee, and a rather badass handlebar situation. Tom Selleck has long been one of my favorites, and low and behold, from the nose down at least, it’s pretty much spot on. My social media ‘friends’ (of the male variety; women are far too honest) throw this is legit, and you look like Maverick and Goose at the same time, and you start to think maybe, just maybe, I can pull this off…
This morning I pulled down my requisite Portland flannel, styled myself after the Brawny man (I say this loosely; did you know it’s the blonde Brawny-man that rocks the ‘stache and red flannel?), and headed out the door. In less than half a block, the mustache is forgotten as I head to my favorite coffee shop to write this first official blog. In ordering I notice my usual charm falling flat when faced with perfunctory responses and forced smiles. Not thinking much of it (I not really that charming anyway) I sat down to wait for my caffeine, and opened the only Windows laptop in the joint. There, staring back at me, was a creepy dude wearing my face. I hit the power button.
Trim top of mustache
What’s the point of all of this, you ask? The rules of the mustache. They are very simple, and set in granite.
Rule #1: The mustache line. Tom Selleck, Burt Renyolds, Sam Elliot, your father. These men can, and should, be rocking a killer man-stache. Their maturity and confidence allow for a look that impresses, but if you are a man below the mustache line, currently set at a birthdate on or before today’s date in 1963. You may not, under any circumstances, have an unsupported mustache.
Rule #2: Acceptable mustache-styles for younger men. None. If you try, please know that you look terrible. Creepy even. So just don’t.
So I will endure the rest of the week with the full knowledge that mothers will hide their children, and the general public will be scoffing and muttering douchebag after I walk by, and I’ll need to spend the first minutes of my shifts explaining this week’s theme with a side of self-deprecating humor. Hey, there still might be some fun to be had… Maybe I’ll recreate this shot: