The hairy question of to tell or not to tell

IS it me or has the number of jokes about lockdown grooming diminished? In the early days, when unkemptness was a future possibility, it felt like there were several hundred yeti-type references a day. But now that the roots are actually three inches long, the acrylic nails eight inches long, the eyebrows all Frida Kahlo and any and all previously waxed body parts have gone entirely feral, there doesn’t seem to be so many jokes.

Back in the day, when you could not only roam free but stand where you want, I remember seeing a man on the Luas who caught my eye. He was older than me and in today’s terms we were standing unthinkably close, it was so close I could see his lavish ear hair in some detail. Curious, I pivoted slightly on the pole to which I was clinging and yes, indeed, his nose hair and eyebrows were similarly distractingly rampant.

Grooming is a matter of taste and hair removal a personal choice but there are accepted norms and deviating from them is a kind of statement, even if that statement merely says, “I don’t look in the mirror much”. However, the woman with him was clearly his wife and it made me wonder if she loved him so much she didn’t mind his overgrown orifices, or if she hated him so much she wasn’t telling him.

To tell or not to tell is always a delicate issue. My kids are primed that no matter how old or doddery I get, there is to be no whisker malarkey, don’t be messing with my feelings, come armed with a tweezers. Some people, however, don’t care. Fair fecks. But others perhaps just don’t know that it’s all gone a bit yeti for them. There are solutions so now more than ever, the issue of to tell or not to tell, is crucial.