I shave roughly one time a week, in the shower, on a morning where the friction created from hair-growing-on-skin becomes so unbearable that I have to put down the knife I planned to skin my face with and instead pick up a razor to shave. The process is pretty easy: I use this creamy goo from some dude on Glee and a razor that looks like a Transformers’ penis. I then use some face wash or, on *sPeCiAl* days, a scrub and continue my normal shower routine. It’s quite simple.
But, a few days ago, I think the spirit and newness of the Transformer penis inspired taking a risk: I would shave and reshape my stubble to be a mustache. A mustache. This sounds trivial, like something most men who can grow (or overgrow) facial hair took a turn at when they were a teenager. Be that as it may, I have the face of a teen so this day finally came at 28. In the shower, I stopped my razor where the lips connect, refusing to go anymore northerly than I had. I worked around said hair and then, post-shower, did a sweep to clean up what was going on with my hair.
(This also prevents the inevitable, very horrifying hairy holdout that you somehow are blind to yet proceed to work or to meet someone along with this weird longish facial hair sticking out of your face like a follicle soloist, in need of attention from everyone else but you. No one mentions this stray hair that is either on the plain center of the cheek, chin, or Adam’s apple until you get home—and your boyfriend goes “You missed a spot shaving.” and laughs. You laugh too and excuse yourself, shaving the rogue hair. You spit at it hair as it slides into the drain and vow to never let that happen again.)
The process was fairly easy—and the “how” comes from time: you basically have to let your facial hair run wild and reverse engineer the mustache, manscaping it into shape. Since I kept mine simple and “all the hair above my top lip,” the creation process was quite easy. If you don’t have a lot of upper lip hair, do the same as you will otherwise look potentially childish with a thin patch of “mustache.”
One other thing to keep in mind: having a mustache means you actually have to shave more. This is because even the slightest growth of facial hair in anywhere but the upper lip throws off the power of your growth, reducing the planned activity to an accident. Thus, you have to keep shaving around it in order to keep the feature the main attraction. (I usually shave every other day or every other other day and am fine.)
Give it a try! The funny thing about this process was that, after I gave myself permission to do it and looked in the mirror to reveal “the new look,” something had snapped for the better. I became both older and younger, a man and a child. The admittedly silly attempt at facial hair did make me look older but, really, I kind of looked like a young French boy attempting adulthood—and it kind of felt nice. I even restyled my hair and it made me want to dress up more.
Will I keep a mustache forever, as a part of “my look”? Probably not. For now, it’s fun and it gives me a reason to interact with that Transformer penis more often.