It’s November, which means it’s moustache season in the UK. Movember is a charity/social movement where participants grow a moustache for a month in order to give money and raise awareness of issues like testicular and prostate cancer and male suicide. Obviously I am quite partial to my healthy prostate and testicles, but perhaps even more obviously mental health, particularly men’s mental health, is something I care about a lot, so I feel obliged to at least try to grow something on my top lip. I clean shaved yesterday for the first time in a long time, certainly the first time since I’ve been in London, and so begins the process of growing something very embarrassing on my face. Without my usual stubble I feel naked, exposed and a bit ridiculous, and I look like I’m 12 years old, but I’ve been constantly reassuring myself that it’ll grow back come December and I’ll just have to try and avoid mirrors for the next 30 days.
Also the girl I’m dating said a few weeks ago that they’d stop seeing me if I grew a moustache, so it’s time to see if she’ll put her money where her mouth is.