The Writing Mamas Daily Blog

Each day on the Writing Mamas Daily Blog, a different member will write about mothering.

If you're a mom then you've said these words, you've made these observations and you've lived these situations - 24/7.

And for that, you are a goddess.

Thursday, March 12, 2009


Moustache Mamas

The concept: Women shouldn’t be ashamed of shaving – their upper lips.

I’m sure this has been conceived before, by some hairy Betty, in some by-gone era that had a few faithful Sallys offering timid support, but it looks like Betty tucked that Bic away when the rest of her friends quit inviting her to bowling night.

But this hairy Betty wants to resurrect the movement. Here’s what I’d really love doing – no, let me be more honest than that: here’s what I really love doing:

Shaving my moustache.

There, I’ve said it. I know it’s a HUGE no-no, especially in Marin. The whiskers! The masculine image of it! The financial ease of it! At least wax (at home or in the parlor)! At least do something hi-tech like electrolysis! At least bleach! But whatever you do, don’t shave! And be sure to do whatever you do discreetly and privately. Do not tell your girlfriends and do not let your children or partners see you.

But what are we afraid of? Looking (or feeling) a bit prickly? Being too much like men? Well, guess what? Maybe we are. Maybe even growing moustaches is an inherent link we need to boisterously admit we share with mankind.

Sure, it’s significant that we even demurely admit we grow them. It’s a step forward that women have the option to wax, electrocute, or bleach unwanted facial hair. But what a step it would be if we could just shave.

Think of the progress we could make! Shaving our moustaches – in front of our husbands, our sons, our daughters, our friends -- could do more to equalize men and women than any amount of pants-wearing, bra-burning or corporate ladder climbing since Susan B. Anthony held up her first picket sign.

Of course, the ultimate step forward would be to proudly grow a moustache. No, really -- think of the fashion possibilities. Women could start their own Handlebar Clubs (Google it – you’ll see what I mean), cultivating the coveted “grass grin” or “splay press.” Hell, we could bring new meaning to the “bush puss.” Oh, the possibilities are endless if we could just own our ‘staches.

Unfortunately, though, we still live in an age where telling someone you shave your moustache is akin to telling them you wear a jock strap.

But maybe it’s time one of us untucked our brass balls and took on the challenge. I say: Game on, Shavers unite!

By Anjie “Betty” Reynolds

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OMG. So funny Betty. And really, Bush Puss? I think I pee'd my pants a little there. Awesome and bold my friend (yes, I still dare to call you such.)

Karen Urlie
Funny, funny, funny... and, so true!

While I do not yet have the means to sport a handle bar 'stache (or even a tiny "Hitler patch"), I do have a very impressive "bermuda shorts line" (think "bikini line" only much, much farther down the leg...). And, I'm sorry to say that I do not yet have a set of brass balls big enough to proudly promendade it on the beach in a skimpy bikini... so, I wax and trim and pretend I was born that way.

It definitely sucks being a hairy Betty.
Okay, I'm rolling on the ground right now. I LOVE it Anjie. I shave and proud of it. I remember when I first got married that poor Matthew didn't know what he was getting in to. Everyone in the world had the perfect amount of hair in all the right places. Little did I know that we all put ourselves through hell trying to look like we don't. I sure wish I had some of the brass balls to be who I really am. I love to read your stuff!
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