My Mustache And Me

During coronavirus, a dangerous liaison.

- David Coggins

Of all the worthy projects to tackle during quarantine, the one with the least chance of resulting in real self-improvement is the introduction of a new mustache.

Imagine a thick ’stache, and chances are you think of the 1970s and open-necked shirts possibly revealing gold medallions nesting in a swath of chest hair. These outlaw associations are one reason we rarely see a powerful American with one. Can you envision a presidential candidate with a mustache? He’d sooner admit he was an atheist.

But for some men, such low odds of pulling it off only heighten the mustache’s louche mystique. It appeals to the part of a man that wants to buy a motorcycle. A good one conveys a sense of fearlessness while offering a man a vacation from himself.

Time away from friends can provide the push some guys need to embrace a more adventurous side. Growing a large beard, with its dignified tradition of Civil War generals and Russian novelists is a natural impulse. But the full Tolstoy doesn’t fit inside the masks we’re now advised to wear in public.

At the onset of social distancing, I was on a FaceTime call with a friend and thought I detected a provocative bit of growth emerging through his stubble. “Is that a mustache?” I asked eagerly as if spotting a rare bird. “It’s