If You Moustache

When did the moustache, that prideful patch, become an object of derision? It’s not simply the T-shirts that read “Guns Don’t Kill People: Men with Moustaches Do,” which, true though that may be, still derides our most masculine strip of fur, just like “moustache-ride” wisecracks. At some point, men retreated indoors, behind desks and neckties, and the facial hair that won the West with all the vigor of a locomotive’s cow catcher became a relic. Maybe we as a culture no longer have the patience to tend a proper Fu Manchu, the gall to rock a walrus, the confidence to sharpen a pencil moustache. Cops still know the moustache projects power, but politicians seem reluctant since a certain Nazi ran the toothbrush moustache into the damn ground. Where have you gone, Howard Taft? Today it’s the mulleted mobile-home set and skinny-jeans hipsters who have co-opted the ’staches that should rightfully belong to us all.

But maybe purpose is all we need: Is an ironic moustache still ironic if it helps fight prostate cancer? The Movember Foundation, which encourages men to grow luxuriant moustaches in the month “formerly known as” November, partners with the Prostate Cancer Foundation and the Lance Armstrong Foundation to raise money for men’s cancers; its gala party in Himmarshee is one of many being held around the world. Look for contests for “Best Moustache” and “Best Theme Team.” This, perhaps, restores moustaches’ rightful place as the gold standard of virility, fit for Teddy Roosevelt and Magnum P.I. And Burt Reynolds. And Nietzsche and Dali and Zappa… Bring your finest upper lip growth to T-Mex Restaurant Cantina (204 SW 2nd St., Fort Lauderdale) on Saturday at 8 p.m. Visit us.movember.com.
Sat., Dec. 5, 8 p.m., 2009

 
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