Day of Stachedish

Stachedish is not over. Stay tuned as I make my way to Dupont Circle for Moustache Monday. I will co-host Moustache Family Feud, and take my picture with some other lip heavy gentlemen.

Guest blogger: The Michael Phelan

Although Washington DC recently voted to allow same-sex marriage, I wasn’t one of those who stood to benefit from it directly.  So when my fiancé, Jen, woke up today with a moustache, I wasn’t too surprised.  I’d grown a moustache recently, and it makes sense that it may have been contagious.

Of course, Jen had a moustache for the same reason that I do—for kids.  We’re raising money for 826DC, a writing center where we both volunteer (though she does more often than I do).  That is, unless you count having a moustache on my face, which is something that I’ve had for almost three weeks now.

The hardest part of having a moustache, as a man, is that no one can tell whether or not you’re kidding, and you don’t want to have to call attention to it.  For Jen, that’s easy—she’s not wearing a moustache as a fashion accessory—it’s there to be asked about.  For a gentleman like myself, people probably think I just think my moustache looks good.

Jen also got to choose when she’s wearing her moustache.  She could take it off to, say, eat soup, drink a frothy glass of Guinness, or (as I’ve done) go to a job interview.  All it takes is a little spirit gum to get right back where she was.  For me, on the other hand, it would be three more weeks of long, itchy work.

But my bitterness causes me to digress.  Having a fiancé with a moustache is a lot like having a fiancé without a moustache.  Underneath that furry top-layer, she’s still the same old Jen, though she spends a little bit more time complaining about the glue (this is one way that having a proper moustache is an advantage—you don’t have to worry about how to keep it on).  Kissing her doesn’t feel quite like I expected—I’d hoped our moustache hairs might somehow have gotten entangled, like we were Na’vi.  Instead, it’s pretty similar to kissing her the rest of the time.  I never kissed someone with braces when I had them—maybe I’d be just as disappointed if they didn’t stick together.

Anyway, Jen’s exceeded her goal now, after only 5.4 hours of actually wearing a moustache.  Good for her, and good for the kids.  But there are people out there going through this every day.  They do it as a slog, not a blog—maybe it’s not the most effective strategy.  But it’s just as hard—maybe even harder.

So visit my donation page for a look at a real hero, for whom having a moustache isn’t just today’s event—it’s a daily event.  Also, it’s for the children.