Never, Ever Over-Groom A Beard
If you like paradoxes, here’s one: A man’s rawest way of rebelling against authority is by wearing a beard, but that beard will never be worth wearing if it doesn’t look good.
Let that sink in.
Here’s another one, only this isn’t so much a paradox as it is a mind-melting, metaphysical demand of the all-knowing universe: Why wear a beard if doing so requires grooming it? Is the beard not a direct assault on grooming itself, as punk rock is on capitalism?
Let that one sink in, too.
Some of you might be thinking, “Are these guys messing around? They totally risk shooting themselves in the foot right now. They sell beard stuff.”
We don’t mess around. Unless it involves the duty of pressing that big, red button when a pal’s sitting above a dunk tank, we don’t mess around. It’s like this: A man doesn’t just wear a beard to keep out the cold come winter, and he doesn't just wear a beard to attract a mate—he also does it precisely because it requires grooming.
Here’s another way of looking at it: Owning something cool comes with the cost of upkeep, whether it’s a home, a stock portfolio, or a burly, unapologetically manly beard. Committing to that cost builds character; It means you’ll show up everyday to keep that thing looking or functioning well. A beard’s as good a reminder as any that you can’t cut corners if you want to create and preserve something great.
But in this case, you can cut those annoying split ends.
And, most of all, if you’re going to grow, care for and rock a beard, please — as an independent grooming product company to all of you out there — don’t over-groom it. Please.
Don’t try sculpting your beard by spending an hour on it in the bathroom. No one will care that much, and you’re not an American Psycho (if you didn’t get the reference, Google “American Psycho” and you will).
Do let your beard grow past an inch or two. You’re not a morning show anchor. The whole point of wearing a beard is to show off what mother nature gave you, not to mow it like a lawn.
The term “short beard” belongs only to onboarding literature for jobs that’ll rob your soul.
Short beards belong to the old Drake, the young one who hadn’t yet learned the value of having heft in your facial hair. Heft reminds a man he can, indeed, grow a beard, and something that seemingly simple is really something at which we ought to marvel a little more.
Do wear your beard like a badge of what you are.
And when it’s cold, hydrate your beard lest it snow beard flakes on an unsuspecting world.
We hydrate beards with beard-centric washes, balms, oils and balm/oil hybrids. These products bring out the best in our beards.
Don’t be the guy with a wizard beard. That’d just be truculent. Plus, all that length will get in your clam chowder and it’ll dust things, like steering wheels and credenzas.
Do be the guy who pays no mind to the patchiness in his mane, for if Keanu Reeves can look good doing, then goddammit, so can you.
Just grow a good beard, one that makes no apology for its presence.
Don’t half-ass it and pull back when and where the wife or the boss demand as much. These people deserve your respect (that is, if they respect you), but they have absolutely no bearing on what grows — or doesn’t grow — on your face.
If you’d rather shave, good. A lot of dudes look great clean shaven.
But if you want a beard, grow a beard, not a “beard.”
Get those split ends and book those trims at the barber shop, too. Those folks see hundreds of beards a day, and they’ve got the tools (and the products) to make every one of them look like thoroughbreds.
The Unspoken Law of Bearding
One last thing: If you’re new to beard growth and you’re not slightly uncomfortable with your chosen length, you’re not doing it right. Like Tyler Durden said, “just let go.”
It’s a beard.
It’s your way of saying, “No, I won’t do what you tell me.”
But for Pete’s sake, make it look good.