Friday, 13 April 2012

the mystery of the moustache

I am perplexed by the phenomenon known as the moustache.


It's the worst thing women have had to deal with since the buzz.

I prefer the British spelling of the word, because it leads one to pronounce it with the emphasis on the "stache." moo-STOSH.


I get that it's a fashion statement made by hip males who enjoy the appearance of homelessness. I just don't get how all their lady friends can stand to kiss them. I once had a very hip friend of mine say, "you can't knock the mustache til you try it." Well Liz, I tried it. And I will now knock it.

It was the Summer of 2010 and I was living the dream in New York City. I made a friend at the ad agency I was interning at, who had quite the moustache. He was quite proud of it. I realize now that I sealed my fate when one day I said something like, "I just don't think I could stand kissing a guy with a moustache. It seems like it would tickle."

He and I spent lots of time talking about life, music, advertising, religion--you name it. We had lunch on the rooftop, he sent me funny text messages, it was the perfect romcom friendship. On my last day in town he took me to brunch. He walked me to the door of my apartment. I turned around and he was way too close.

"Just try it. You'll like it."

"(silent panic!!!!) Ew. No."

He tried it anyway. It tickled.

I guess what we can learn from this story is the immortal and all-powerful principle of "hard to get." Then again, maybe this was his logic.


Perhaps the reason I'm so fascinated by the moustache is that having female moustache is one of my greatest fears. Unless your name is Natalie Portman, female-stache = your life is over. If you are Natalie Portman, you just look a little angrier than usual.




I won't even get started on Mustache March. Not to mention Movember, when men grow out their moustache to fight man-cancer.  Ladies. Why didn't we think of this first??? From here on out I shall let my leg hair run wild. If anyone asks, it's Wapril. These hairy legs are saving breasts. Argue with that, boyfriend.

I look forward to the blessed day when the Moustache goes back out of style. Until then, I will say a silent prayer for all those hip girls pretending to dig the stache.