Thomas Heaton
Appreciates a great beard, but is more than a whisker away from a world championship.
Over the past few years I have developed alarming white patches on my black chin. When my father saw it, he laughed, pointing proudly, stating he has the exact same thing.
He too sports a Holstein Friesian facial spread. It was beard-bonding at its finest, and it is why I won’t shave.
There is some more male bonding on the horizon however, because the Sunday Star-Times can reveal Auckland will host the World Beard and Moustache Championships in 2021, thanks to The Fellowship of the Beard NZ president Ygnacio Cervio.
And now Kiwi men finally have their excuse to bin their razors.
Cervio, whose beard seems to be a mash-up of Salvador Dali’s moustache and Gandalf’s beard, worked with Auckland Convention Bureau and Tourism New Zealand to secure the event, which will attract bearded fellows from across the globe.
I am drawn to good beards, I recognise them and respect them. I approach beards like I approach strangers’ dogs, with caution. If they seem friendly, I might ask to have a pat. That might be creepy, but I think beards are great.
Part of a small fraternity of manchildren in secondary school, I was affably known as Sasquatch by schoolmates. I was often told to shave by teachers too. But I hated my razor. My facial renaissance came after school in the form of goatees, soul patches, handlebars and Wolverine-esque arrangements. I quickly grew tired of shaving, however, opting for a trimmer to remain somewhat kempt.
The first time I manoeuvred my moustache into two villainous curls, I was a happy man. I went to the barber, splurged and walked out with moustache wax, beard oil and a heap of hairy information only a bearded man should know. I’ve not happily shaved since.
Shaves come only during existential crises, Movember or when I stuff up a trim entirely. Otherwise, the Mach 3 stays in the bottom draw of the bathroom cupboard, for how else could I ponder life, if not stroking my beard and looking into the distance?
In comparison to the likes of beards we’ll see in the 18 category competition in 2021, when beards and moustaches become something topiary, my beard history looks pitiful. There will be fu manchus worthy of Kill Bill: Vol. 2’s Pai Mei, beards longer than ZZ Top’s front men, and plenty of beard-envy.
But I’m not going to compare myself to those professionals. I’ll be happy with whatever grows on my face, it’s all I have, for I also inherited my father’s baldness.
Cervio recently came sixth in the ‘full beard with styled moustache’ category at a world championships, and wants to encourage Kiwi males to grow, style and groom their facial hair.
His Fellowship of the Beard started as a ‘‘one-man-dream’’ and turned into a community for bearded men that also helps charity organisations in New Zealand.
‘‘We’ve wanted to host the world champs here for some time, and we know some competitors will be travelling a fair distance to compete, so want to make their The first time I manoeuvred my moustache into two villainous curls, I was a happy man. stay unique,’’ he said.
‘‘Our wish is for all of them to have a great time, meet old friends, make new ones and take home the best memories from our vibrant city.’’
The two-day competition will include the 16 traditional categories of judgement in The World Beard and Moustache Championships, plus a ‘Whiskerina’ category for women to enter, and ‘Crowd Favourite’, where attendees will choose the winner.