GOD, I HATE BEARDS!
Stars love those ultra-bushy beards that make them look like the Almighty. Yuk, says Amanda Platell
ALONG with any woman with a beating heart, I fell in love with Leonardo DiCaprio when he rescued Kate Winslet from the bow of the Titanic nearly 20 years ago. Later on, I was captivated by his ruthlessly controlling character in The Wolf Of Wall Street and his suave conman in Catch Me If You Can. But I fear the love affair is over. It’s not his acting, nor the constant roll call of superficial supermodel girlfriends. No, it’s that DiCaprio now actually looks like a wolf.
It’s that God-damned ‘God beard’, as they’re called. A curse on all of them, I say. You know what I’m talking about — those unclean, unkempt, scraggy, scratchy and utterly ugly big beards that so many men seem to be sporting nowadays.
We’re not talking the handsome well-trimmed facial hair that is the favourite of so many older men. Not Sean Connery in Indiana Jones, nor even Paul Hollywood on Bake Off. No, this is a mass of wild, curly facial hair that sprouts out from their lips, tumbles over their cheeks and chins, then settles in something resembling an infested rat’s nest around their necks. In the more hirsute, you can’t tell where the whiskers end and the chest hair begins. Yuk!
Is it any wonder there are reports (since denied) that DiCaprio’s facial hair — which he grew for his latest film role — is infested with fleas?
The hipster beard, as it’s otherwise known, came into full fashion about five years ago, but was deemed dead as a dodo last year by fashionistas.
So why are cool men of a certain age all over the world still wearing them? And what possesses some of the finest-looking actors on earth to cover their faces and necks with Brillo pad-like fuzz?
They seem to think having a God beard makes them God’s gift to women. If only they knew.
I had to rewind the TV the other day watching recorded interviews with the stars of The Man From U. N. C. L. E. I was expecting the i ncredibly handsome, c hi s el - chinned Henry Cavill — star of the latest Superman movie — and the equally good-looking Armie Hammer, but in their place were a couple of scruffy bearded blokes who looked like they were auditioning for a remake of Ned Kelly.
Given the dire reviews for the movie, perhaps they were just in disguise hiding from the critics. At least they’ve since had the sense to shave them off.
And it’s not just movie stars. I first caught sight of this trend en masse a few years ago while on holiday in Brooklyn, New York. I asked my friend what was the one thing that united 80 per cent of the men in that achingly cool city’s hottest bar.
‘They all look like they could do with a good wash,’ she said. No. They all had God beards. For a moment I thought they were younger members of Brooklyn’s large traditional Hasidic Jewish population. But it was a Saturday, so they wouldn’t be in a bar.
The men were expensively dressed with trendy gelled hairstyles and designer satchels. All topped off with these awful beards.
One of my friend’s sons turned up at a charity event in London recently, sporting the f ull God beard. I thought it was a joke. Playfully attempting to pull it off, I suddenly realised it was real.
ONCE he got over hi s i ndignation, he told me thought it made him look uber-cool. The poor deluded soul. He just looked silly — and short. Because that’s the other thing the God beard does, it elongates the face, making the wearer look halfman, half-beard, while shrivelling up their body until they look tiny.
So why has the God beard become so fashionable when it’s so eyewateringly unattractive? I suspect the real reason men cling to their hipster beards is to allow them to indulge their instinctive lazy streak. What better wheeze than to grow some fuzz so they don’t have to spend ten minutes a day shaving.
They certainly can’t really believe that the Grizzly Adams look will attract the fairer sex. After all, no woman on earth has ever looked at a man and thought: ‘ He’d be really good looking if only he had a beard.’ And don’t get me started on the other major problem with facial fuzz — it’s so unhygienic!
Recently, I caught up with an old friend I hadn’t seen for years. He suggested going to a dim sum restaurant — my favourite. But that night may well have put me off it for life.
First I didn’t recognise him until he came up and kissed me — even though his beard entered the room a minute before he did. His handsome face was masked by a wall of hair.
WORSE was to come when he started eating. Never a maestro with the chopsti cks, one dim sum slipped and got trapped in his beard. He laughed, picked it out, put it back in his mouth and wiped the plum sauce off his hairy chin with the back of his hand.
Double yuk! A beard acts like one of those plastic baby bibs you tie around a child’s neck that scoops up all the food that misses their mouths. The only difference is that mum cleans the bib after each meal. Bearded men keep their food-traps on all day — and all night.
Have you ever seen a man painstakingly cleaning his facial fuzz?
How I pity the girlfriends who have to kiss these wolfmen. Because this is one of those things most women won’t tell them. Kissing a mouth plastered with fuzz is not sexy. It’s irritating, itchy and it gets stuck in your teeth, like kissing dental floss.
And unless the wearer is fastidiously clean, which some men demonstrably are not, it can get quite smelly. Eau de Tandoori is hardly an aphrodisiac for any woman.
Still, judging by the array of products available online, some men clearly take care of their beards. You can pick up anything from beard shampoo to special food-releasing combs. The very thought.
But most of the products are for trimming, something any selfrespected God-bearder doesn’t do. For them, it has to look wild and messy, resembling road kill they’ve attached to their face.
So many celebrities have tried the hipster beard and failed. Even David Beckham couldn’t carry it off — so shaved it off. As for The Duchess of Cambridge’s brother James Middleton, it’s no wonder his cake-making business went bust. Just the thought of finding one of those hairs in the cream filling is triple yuk.
And far from DiCaprio’s gruesome bristles making him look tough, they have spawned ridicule. One spoof movie poster online read: ‘12 things hiding in Leonardo DiCaprio’s beard.’
In years to come we’ll look back and laugh at them, as we did with George Michael’s mullet. And not a day too soon.