Can the mustache come back? I’ve always had a thing for the seventies’ porn stache myself but it doesn’t quite seem to work these days, despite John Hodgman’s fearless pioneering. In an excerpt from Paddle Your Own Canoe, Nick Offerman extols its moderate virtues:
The straight dope is: If we’re TRUE to our natures, then we grow a robust beard. That is what was intended by the ORDER OF THINGS. Society has put a spin on us, making a “clean-shaven” countenance the social “norm,” which, from Ma Nature’s point of view, is bullshit. But then, so are air-conditioning and Saran wrap and Cap’n Crunch and a bunch of other cool shit that allows us to “rise above” nature at times. A moustache is a socialized way to say, “Okay, look, I’ll let you see most of my face, since that’s what we’re all doing right now, but if you would kindly direct your gaze to this thornbush above my mouth, you will be reminded that I am a fucking animal, and I’m ready to reproduce, or rip your throat out if called upon, because I come from nature.” In this way the moustache can be considered a relief valve of sorts, for the buildup of animal preening that most people completely repress. That’s what makes a man with a good stache so cool, calm, and collected.
The key thing is not to buzz it. You have to let it grow so that the hairs that start just beneath your nose go all the way down to the upper lip in a waterfall cascade. That means only trimming the bottom border with scissors to enable eating and drinking without a straw. I favor a slight downturn at the crease of the mouth – but that’s obviously a matter of taste.
The Dish 