At the end of half a week or so they become beardo-weirdos, a term borrowed from Moni Mohsin my favourite author from beyond the Wagah Border. Needless to say her books are not sold beyond the Wagah Border.
Recently, my husband was off on a long weekend with his school buddies sans spouses, and guess what! Yeah you're quite right, not one of them shaved the entire time. Not one... or maybe one. Their beards grew untrimmed throughout their sojourn in scenic locales competing with the flora in the wild. All of them had stiff, poky -- er -- hair, beard hair, in fifty shades of grey, sticking out at all angles, making them look like so many Daaku Potatoes. Except for the charming doctor. The charming doctor naturally has less hair, and one, he's a doctor so he does know a little about hygiene and two, he is charming anyway.
Well the hubby returned with a godawful growth, which I bore in stoic silence for a few tortured hours, before marching him off to the sink, razor in hand, tritely promising that he would never do such a deplorable thing again.
I cannot abide a man with an unkempt beard. Look at George Clooney, Colin Firth, Daniel Craig, hey look at them! Well groomed delicious men -- I like such. Okay, I don't mind a sexy five o'clock shadow, but more than that, no way Jose!
The holidays we are having right now, five days in a row.... very conducive to yucky beard growth. I visited my salon this afternoon (you know how addicted I am to it) and all the therapists were unshaven. Young, cute, but unshaven, therefore very un-cute!
I shut my eyes so that it would look like I was blissfully enjoying my head massage -- which I did, I'll give credit where it's due -- but wouldn't have to look at the unshaven therapist in the mirror! Then came a young man and sat himself down next to me; yeah -- you got it, with a thick facial growth. His therapist, also a gorilla in the making, shaved him as I watched, you see I was now waiting for the sink to get vacated so I could have my hair washed. Like magic, smooth skin made an appearance and he left looking mithhu mithhu goad goad!
I'm a little wicked with my son. He's the same. Doesn't shave! I tell him he looks, well, a little fuller in the face when he doesn't shave. He shaves now -- every other day, but okay, that's okay.
Now, I had a neighbour once. You couldn't see the wood for the trees! I mean the visage was eclipsed by the foliage. Always. He always wore it that way. He fancied himself a wit. Once I was strolling in the courtyard, and silent as the tomb, he fell in step beside me. It was dusk. He wore white. I suddenly looked up and shrieked while he laughed, the wicked ape!
It's not that I do not like bearded men. Now, when Kabir Bedi was a tad younger, he was devastating! And I quite like Saif Ali Khan. Mmmmmm. Silky growths. They look silky. But rough, poky, horrid, unkempt, wildly growing beards, excuse me! Thanks but no thanks. Some dweebs think women find them erotic. I would imagine they feel like a surface on which cats sharpen claws. Like a gravelly wall or something.... now a smooth one, well, you know what they say about feather brushes!
I think I'll write a self-help book for men. Beards will be widely dealt with!