Are Bushy Beards the New Fashion Craze for Men?

If bushy beards are the new fashion craze for young men, I’m relieved to be out of the loop.

When our neighbor, who considers himself a “Mad Men” ad exec type, appeared with a scraggy crumb catcher I thought perhaps he was dealing with a personal tragedy.  His beard wasn’t a suave George Clooney number—but more like an Amish farmer. He seemed happy enough but the beard grew and grew and grew until he resembled a derelict moonshiner

I began to see more and more men abandoning the attractive stubble in favor of full beards. I wondered if I had stumbled into an alternate universe or even worse, I was hallucinating; the beginning of a downward aging spiral. When television commercials featured men with beards it was confirmation; I’m just out of step with current trends.

My hairstylist said full beards are the new deal (for men; if you are a woman see your aesthetician.)

My younger self swore she would never badmouth current trends. It is the kiss of death; a sure sign a woman was approaching cronehood; the crabby old female relative that finds fault with everything. The woman everyone avoids except at Christmas when people are well fortified from the wassail bowl.

I think the bushy beards hideous. Even George Clooney would have a hard time pulling off that look.

My younger self was a bit self-righteous. I see cronehood looming closer and I am at peace with that knowledge.

 

The Ugly Chair

The time had come to say “good-bye” to the ugly chair. His discomfort was painful to observe. This was a difficult moment and he was going to have to find some way to get through it. His separation anxiety  ratcheted to an all time high.

His favorite chair and ottoman were being replaced; banished forever. A huge hole remained in the space they had once occupied, taunting him with their absence.

Shopping for new companion pieces was going to be difficult for him, but I would be sensitive and patient to ease the transition. I would try to disguise my glee at the opportunity to replace the Buick sized duo. I would diplomatically steer him to current options that featured comfort as well as style.

As soon as we arrived at the furniture store, my beloved headed straight for the recliners and I found myself in the ninth level of chair shopping hell.

His eyes lit up when he spotted a huge, dark brown number with massive overstuffed arms. The gimongous power cord peering from underneath the chair was a huge clue this was not furniture Nate Berkus would embrace.

The salesperson, obviously suffering from too much caffeine, could scarcely conceal her glee at an opportunity to unload the ugly devil on someone who fit demographics most likely to appreciate its benefits.

The chair did everything but make frozen margaritas. It reclined backwards at the touch of a button. She practically swooned as she demonstrated the chair tilting upward and forward, depositing its sitter upright, feet on floor with little effort.

Hubby informed perky salesperson; he did not require mobility assistance and left the store in a huff.

I am grateful to the overly zealous salesperson. Thanks to her, we are now the owners of a new chair that features comfort as well as style without a power cord.

Note: originally published October 2011. The new chair is showing signs of distress. Wash, rinse, repeat.

 

 

 

 

 

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