During the Month of November I participated in the now annual event of Movember. I wrote about my reasons and motivations in a previous article here. This article today is about growing a moustache for the first time, my feelings about it and what happened when it came off on the 1st December.
When I started out on this moustache journey I did not know what to expect. I have a number of friends who are hirsute and have been proudly bearing a set of whiskers for many years, but I did not ask them for advice for two reasons. Firstly, I wanted to see what would happen to me and not cloud my judgement, and secondly, most of my moustached friends have had one so long they don’t recall what it was to grow one in the first place.
I was also nervous as my father had sported a healthy tache for a number of years and as I feared that looking in the mirror would remind me of those days. But I wanted to give it a Gentleman’s try, so grow a moustache I did!
The first week was not too bad, I have gone without shaving for a couple of days before and it is fine and does not bother me, but by the start of week two I wanted to give up. It itched, it really really itched. I was scratching and touching it all the time. It was slowly driving me mad, especially as it looked like a small creature had crawled to my upper lip and decided to grow it’s winter coat. I knew I had to persevere, it was important to strive to the end. Determination is the trait of a Gentleman after all.
By the end of the second week the itchiness had subsided and my regime of washing and indeed conditioning it had helped, as well as adding a little product in what I could now comfortably call a moustache.
By this stage it was growing nicely and when I shaved the rest of my face, I would take the time to edge and trim it and make it look respectable. Like the hair on my head there were a few rogue white hairs that had decided to gatecrash the movember party and show my age.
It was very strange to look down and see my face and hair in my line of sight and every time I went into my deep breathing exercises my breath would blew through the moustache which was both fun, distracting and strange.
One of the curious facts that came out of this top lip experiment is the fact that it strangely suited me. Indeed so much so that several people didn’t notice I had it at all and several people compared me to various 1930’s movie stars, though they couldn’t decide exactly which one, so I said I wanted to look like William Powell, which most had never heard of, sadly.
Then, 30 days later, after I had not shaved my top lip, I decided it was time for us to part ways. I was due a haircut as well. So off I toddled to one of my regular establishments, Ted Baker’s Grooming Rooms, to get the deed done. I went in looking like a cold suited version of Thomas Magnum and came out looking like myself. I had a spring in my step, I had lasted the course and done my Movember duty.
Personally, I thought it did suit me, but was very much of that 1930/40s vibe. If I was heading down to the Chap Olympiad or Goodwood Revival, I think it would fit perfectly. But I came to the conclusion that it was not me, much to Mrs #1PG’s happiness.
Lastly, may I say a huge thank you to all of my supporters, who donated to my chosen charities. I will thank you individually over the course of the next few days. You are truly generous ladies and gentlemen, I salute you!
Hairlessly yours,
#1PG
