The Tale of the Epic Beard
Beards can be pretty legendary things; they can simply linger on the intermediate stage of not quite a full on beard, more of a stubbly ambivalent affair, or grow into an accumulation of some magnificent full-on facial beauty. We love them either way; a beard is a beard, all things considered. They can be short, long, frizzy or coiled. Deep burgundy or a profound russet with lingering hints of silver. Each to their own, an individual ‘beard brand’ if you will.
A year ago, amidst a hot and sticky summer, my partner decided to grow a beard. It had always been a subject of amusement that his face showed evidence of stubble even after he had just shaved, so he surrendered to the evolution of his facial hair, and the journey began. It wasn’t without its impediments and a few setbacks; I’m not going to lie. It itched and it irritated, hairs growing a few minor millimetres per day to see new light of day. And for me…it was a new experience. Suddenly my smooth man’s face was enclosed by a wall of hair, a blurry coffee haze that I had to battle through. And a kiss came with new sensations that I compared to that of a bristly broom.
And yet, three weeks down the line, we both adored it. I finally understand the beard obsession that had seized half a dozen girls in our college dorms a few years ago, as they became enamoured by the mature student with the mysterious dusky beard. It had fazed me at the time, and I allowed them to salivate over their cereal bowls pre-lecture. But now it all made sense to me. This beard was epic by all proportions, a heroic accolade to its predecessors.
Just like a man gives devotion towards the care of a new pricey pair of trainers or the latest Xbox game, the beard suddenly became mollycoddled; pampered like us ladies spoil ourselves with a facemask or new branded face cream, he treated the beard with the attention it deserved. He obtained a comb like this beauty which kept everything looking smart and sharp all day. It became a little scratchy and dry too, and brittle around the edges, and that's where Beard Oil became his new best friend; giving it a little moisture, and a bit of daily love. After a morning shower, he took to using Beard Balm, softening it between his fingers and ensuring that the little fly away hairs were kept stylish. I was impressed and a little bemused that the bathroom was used for longer than his usual few minutes.
One year later, and he's got his beauty routine perfected down to a tee.
And the beard? Yes, it’s still here. It got cut earlier in the year, but soon grew back. I missed it, and so did he. It is an Epic Beard, after all.