Mustache Up

Mustaches have long been regarded as the red-headed stepchild of facial hair. Since the end of the1970s, the mustache has been relegated to pornography and mug shots.

Look at it this way: in a full bus, every single seat will be occupied – even the seat next to the 280-pound guy who breathes with his mouth open and brought a family-size bag of Cheetos for the trip. Every seat, that is, except for the one next to Mustache Pete.

The poor girl (it’s always a girl) unfortunate enough to be the last person to board the bus will look up and down the aisle, looking for someone brave enough to sit next to the Mustache Man so that she won’t have to. But there are no longer any heroes. She will spend the entire bus ride locked in prayer, staring out of the corner of her eye at Chester the Molester, trying to will his hands to stay still and never wander.

In this day and age, mustaches simply have that connotation. They are associated with Chris Hansen, poor decisions, and a general lack of self-awareness. Legitimate newspapers have chronicled the slow decline and baffling death of the mustache. To cultivate a mustache, quite simply, is to give up.

Despite all this, I will be rocking a mustache for nearly a month. I will shave once a week, trimming everything but the areas above and next to my upper-lip. I will walk around in public like this, in the full view of my peers and acquaintances.

Why am I doing this?

Quite simply, for charity.

I have signed on with the Boston chapter of Mustaches for Kids, a charity drive that, despite its terrifying name, is a terrific cause. I will be what they call a “grower” – one among the unfortunate souls who dispense with dignity and sex life for a month, in order to grow a sweet mustache.

People, impressed by the sacrifice of the growers, would then contribute any amount they can spare to fund the charity. In the past, Mustaches for Kids has raised over one million dollars for various charities around the country. This is the first year where we have a Boston chapter, and we’re looking to kick it off with a bang.

This year, we will be growing for DonorsChoose.org, which helps support underfunded public schools throughout the country. Many of you, I’m sure, are familiar with the organization and the terrific work it does. Supporting them is a great cause.

Look, I could say I’m going to run a marathon and try to get people to sponsor me. But I’d die somewhere around mile 0.6. And that’s not fun for anyone. I could just shamelessly ask for money, but come on, I should at least make some sort of effort. A sacrifice is demanded.

And so I will mustache up for a month. I will, of course, be updating this blog with periodic photographs of my burgeoning creepiness, every week or so, beginning on November 19, 'Clean Shave Day.' If you’d like to donate and support my mustache, or that of any of the other growers, by all means click here. You can join the Facebook group. You can come meet us and bid Godspeed on the last day of our normalcy. Heck, you can even be a grower yourself. We’d love for you to join.

Seriously, contact me if you want to join. I'm more than happy to throw away your razor. And then get you a new one because these are mustaches, not beards. Aaaaanyway....

As a last incentive, I’d like to mention something that might get some of you on board.



Yes, folliculaphilia. Yes, it exists. For every 100 women out there, 2 are attracted only to men with mustaches. 98 hate it. Hate it. But if you can find the 2 folliculaphiles, they will be on you like you are a combination of Burt Reynolds and Tom Selleck. They might be few and far between, but if you find one, you’re golden.

In the Bible it says, he who hooketh up with someone while rocking a mustache will be forever blessed, and hold all bragging rights.

Who are we to argue with the Jesus?