Friday, December 05, 2008

I Can Never Have A Mustache

NOTE: The post below contains a single picture of me, C-dog, sporting only a mustache on an otherwise shaved face. It is not for the faint of heart or for those prone to easy barfing. You have been warned.

I want, in a shamefully ironic sort of way, to have a mustache. I think mustaches are funny and, when combined with indie dance rock, say, or well-worn pair of corduroy pants, they can actually be quite stylish. And, no, I'm not proud of these hipsterish leanings; I like I to pretend that I'm just kind of a "whatever" guy, but there's no getting around the fact that a small, sad part of me wants desperately to be cool. Living in NY, the cool with which I most come into contact is, generally speaking, a bunch of skinny, sullen men in t-shirts promoting bands I've never heard of and with hair that is unique (to say the least) and they look like people who know movie stars, or at least know where they hang out. And most of these coolsy-woolsy guys... they have mustaches.

Now, granted, being this particular kind of cool gets to be a bit exhausting after awhile (I assume). Sometimes you just want to sit around the house in old sweats and watch the better part of a Mythbusters marathon and only get off the couch to poo. I'm not saying I want to be a scene-blasting hipster 24/7, AND YA DON'T STOP or anything. I'd just like to switch bodies with Brandon Flowers for a fortnight like in the George Burns I-need-money-for-more-cigars flick 18 Again. I want, just once, to walk into a dark bar filled with beautiful people and not immediately be mistaken for the guy that's come to repair the broken toilet in the men's room.

Anyway, I've gotten pretty far afield of my post-title stated point here, which was, if you'll remember, that I can never have a mustache. Why? Because a mustache... and ONLY a mustache... on my specific face looks just awful. See:


Yikes. It's like a cop with a desk job in a small town gave birth to a guy who likes to hang around junior high parking lots asking 8th grade girls to friend him on Facebook so they can talk about Twilight. I have never in my entire life looked so sad and creepy as I do in this picture. Not to mention doughy; all the carbs in the world, slathered with all the butter ever made, are I believe hiding just below my face.
Ugh... I keep involuntarily shuddering. If I ever get arrested for selling boosted speakers out the back of a dented Chevy conversion van, the police won't even need to take a mugshot; I've thoughtfully done the job for them. Seeing myself sporting a mustache like that makes me more depressed than that commercial for the ASPCA with all the sad dogs. This is like dying and finding out that God is indeed real, but that he's just not that into you.
Everything is black, everything is wrong, my mustache is hate.
Anyway, I shaved it off immediately after I took that picture, because OBVIOUSLY. Walking around like that in broad daylight could get a guy arrested, or at least beaten up by concerned citizens who think I might try to lure their children into an abandoned building with the promise of a free iPod.
But here's the thing I don't get... I wear a mustache all the time!!! With a beard attached, sure, but the mustache is still there. What is it about the beard that mitigates the mustache's inherent awfulness? Why does the beard make it all okay? I mean, I guess it lessens the shock value a little bit... my face, mostly hairy, is easier to stomach than my face, shockingly nude, save for a mean little strip of patchy, blond, fuzz that makes meth dealers weep with envy. Frankly, I find that unfair. It's like I'm being denied an essential part of manhood... the mighty 'stache... by my own lousy genetics (my father looks foolish with a mustache as well, thought not quite to the levels of Shakespearean tragedy that I achieve).
Whatever. Lousy cool people with their mustaches. Lousy me, all clean-shaven and dull. Mustaches... you've broken my heart.
Oh, and sorry again that you had to see that picture of me sporting a mustache. Sorry I ruined your Friday, your lunch, your sex drive, and your faith in religion. But now you understand why I can never have a mustache.

7 Comments:

Blogger The Unbearable Banishment said...

Wow! What a fucking mess! I have the exact same problem. No moustache or beard for me! I’ve always attributed it to a potential testosterone deficiency, although I have no medical evidence that that may be the case. On a positive note, I don’t have hair on my back, I only need to shave every other day and I have at least enough testosterone to father two daughters. (Now that I think about it, why no sons?...)

9:16 AM  
Blogger Sonny Amou said...

I feel your pain man. Part of it has to do with size. If you're a bigger dude, which I am, facial hair can make you seem like yr going for the mountain man look, which while probably okay in Alaska, maybe not so much in New York where everyone is pounding the Red Bulls to maintain a heroin chic.

Best advice I ever got re: fashion was to play to your body type, and the coolness will follow. I have broad shoulders, so I kicked out the sweaters and horizontal stripes and started buying more retro clothes with broad vertical stripes.

Which was hard, because I always wanted to look good in a black turtleneck, like those cool film guys who chat up Truffaut and Godard all night. TMI? Maybe...you see my point.

Good luck with your continual job hunt,
SA

12:02 PM  
Blogger Rachie said...

I think the mustache/beard combo works because it doesn't look as intentional as a mustache. If you're rocking the combo, it could be because you're lazy or because you like facial hair. With just a mustache that removes all doubt.

Don't feel bad about not looking good in a mustache. I'd say 97% of the male population doesn't.

1:23 PM  
Blogger Todd said...

"Cop" was the first thing I thought when I saw the picture! I got so freaked out that I threw my crack out the office window.

2:30 PM  
Blogger Subway Gal said...

I'm kinda diggin the 'stache. It gives you the Ron Jeremy porn look. Unless that's not what you were going for, and in that case it's best that you got rid of it.

4:37 PM  
Blogger bob zombie said...

hmm.. i've been away from my computer for the past few days so i'm just now getting a chance to read this, but man, i have the same damn problem. i have attributed it to my native american background. how many indians have you ever seen with a mustache? or a beard for that matter.. i can't grow a full beard either. for a while i figured it was just an "in time" thing.. i figured i'd hit my twenties and it would just magically start to fill itself in.. i'll be 24 in february and i STILL can't grow descent facial hair. when it starts to grow out i look like a damn pedophile. i envy those awesome fuckers that can grow their facial hair and not look like cracked out hitchhiker. my girlfriend says she wouldn't like it if i had a beard anyhow, but i know that's just a lie to make me feel better.

8:04 PM  
Blogger C.R. III said...

Well, from the other comments, it seems you are in good company. Your pain must be even more acute these days now that Pitt and Clooney are trying to bring it back . However, in my (somewhat limited) experience, you (all) really have nothing to be ashamed of. The ladies really don't dig the 'stache. Yes, you may look/feel like a badass if you can grow one, and yes, you may get all jealous inside when you watch "Deadwood", but really, they're not so great. They take a lot of maintenance if you want to do it right. And (did I mention?) the ladies really aren't into them.

Anyway, wait until you're in your 30's. And don't eat soy. Your body can convert it into an estrogen precursor. Seriously.

8:31 PM  

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