Its November and only 11 days in I’m seeing creeping signs everywhere. Along with Halloween and Thanksgiving, Movember has to be my favorite outcome of this autumnal celebration(for the uninitiated, read more here). Screw the leaves changing, Charlie Brown’s Great Pumpkin or the prospect of snow.
I’m in the mood for some mustache.
Beards goob me out (I’m convinced someone just sneezed while shaving their girlfriends bush) and stubble tells me you have an unhealthy relationship with George Michael. But whats not to love about a man with a ‘tache?
The dude who rocks the ‘tache is telling me he’s a man. He’s comfortable with his naturally spice odor and he’s probably got more than one silk shirt in his closet. The ‘tache man can rock a gold chain, and an open shirt collar, but only two buttons mind – he doesn’t want to be irresponsible with the ladies. A ‘tache man is saying ‘ Hey ladies, I’ve got hair on my face and I’m good with that’. And don’t forget, it takes a special inner confidence to walk around all day with a hairy caterpillar on your face. So whether its a full on Selleck or a pedo-lite John Walters, thank your man for making the effort to not shave and raise some money for men’s health.
This year I thought I might get in on the action myself, but since I lack sufficient thickness of bristle on my face, I’m basically left with options south of the border. Since neither is likely to get public (pubic?) viewing anytime soon, I thought it might be an interesting experiment to stop shaving for a month to see what happened. After all, my legs haven’t been au natural since 1983 and who knows, maybe I could invent my own version of the Brazilian (‘the Welsh’ – naturally forested rolling hills).
I lasted 8 days.
Now I’m not of Arabian descent and my dad isn’t Robin Williams but to look at what’s going on ‘down south’ you wouldn’t guess. Its positively ‘field of dreams’ down there.
My leg hair, encouraged by 20 years of shaving ‘knees down only’ has evolved into some type of super-hair that grows vertically out from my leg with the thickness of a chopstick.
3 days in I was forced to adopt knee high socks at the gym (disguised as Crossfit fashion) to hide my growing hedgehog spikes, but after some seriously deep deadlifts at day 7, I noticed that my hair was now visible poking through my knee socks and was giving my socks a distinctly furry appearance. I swear, I could probably keep Bosley in hair transplants for years.
Above the knee remained seal smooth with nary a flaxen hair for as far as the eye could see. Below the knee, it was total ‘Axis of Evil’ territory. When I undressed for bed, I was forced to put on slouch socks to hide the hairy ‘ring of terror’ currently looping around my ankles like some weird fur gator. I figured by Thanksgiving I’d have grown my own Uggs.
Moving upward, past the barren wasteland that is my thighs, I noticed that, like my shins, areas previously shaved with any regularity had also thatched some of this evil ‘super hair’. Not only was this shit thicker, blacker and longer than the hair on my head, it was spreading.
What had previously been confined to a perfectly normal triangle region, seemed to have taken heed to the potential for imminent scalping and run for its life; expanding it reach out, up and down my ‘area’. Facing the mirror it looked like someone had thrown a 70’s mullet at high power towards my crotch and it had somehow stuck. 7 days in and I was concerned that not only were my gym shorts no match for this …hedge.. but even running tights might prove too lightweight to fight back this spawning thicket.
Now I’m not ashamed of my body, my cellulite or my bumpy lumps, but I draw the line at a female pubis that requires ‘binding’ or a cup . Considering the potential for 30 days of hirsuteness, I couldn’t help shudder at what could happen.
Maybe my leg hair and public hair would, in their quest for aggressive expansion, trellis across my thighs and meet up at the mid knee to form a complete hair legging?
Maybe, given free reign, my neither region hair would encourage more dormant areas of my body to join the movement? By the end of the month would I be faced with hairy feet, ears and a smattering of beard?
Maybe, given half a chance, my body would elect to participate in Movember and I’d wake up one day with chops, a flavor saver and my very own ‘tache.
So instead, on day 8 I drew the line, broke out the Venus and scalped every hair on my body from the neck down. It took two razor cartridges and not some considerable amounts of blood (have you tried to shave your ankles recently?).
While I embrace all that is feminist, rail against the dominant male patriarchy and join hands with my sisters in rejecting the female norms determined by men… I kind of don’t want to turn into a Yeti. My ‘hair down there’ sorta scares me in its sheer power and range, and apparently without regular threats (and scalping), there’s no telling what could happen.
So this year, and for all subsequent years I’ll celebrate the men of Movember, the raw sexiness of a Ron Swanson, the horseshoe and the handlebar…but from a distance.
Armed with my own can of shaving foam and a nice sharp razor.
NOTE: want to join in Movember without growing your lady hair? Check out Bloggers for Movember.