We were talking at KGB last night about the resurgence of one of mankind’s most lamentable of facial fashions: the mustache. Somewhere, mixed up in the current twenty-something culture of overwrought irony, someone thought it cute to bring back the 1970s porno ‘stache. Others, seeing hipster culture as a barometer of what will soon trickle into the mainstream concept of cool began letting their hair grow on their upper lip.
Not just a brown dusting of shadow, but a fully grown, almost twirly at the edges ‘stache, this seen as hip and trendy. We have seen how the woodsman beard has infiltrated otherwise healthy looking young men and turned them into lumberjacks with MacBooks.
Also seen (for some time now, I might add) are glasses without frames, or sunglasses without shades.
Mercurio tells me he’s been seeing quite a lot of people using canes purely for affectatious reasons. He wonders when we will see the return of the cape.
Stephen Segal last night suggested that we are tired of the same old square clothes, the same colors, patterns, the dearth of new ideas. So we are mashing up our styles like we do our media.
Perhaps. Or perhaps we have all lost our freakin minds. Pretty soon we’ll all start wearing codpieces again.
I vote that we start a holiday: Shave Your Friend’s ‘Stache Day, and celebrate it once a month lest those furry monstrosities on upper lips get too large. I can think of quite a few other holidays I’d like to celebrate too. And don’t tell me I’m getting old and crotchety. Don’t I already know it.