It’s that time of year again, when many women run and hide from the abundance of horror coming from the male population.
No Shave November.
While I understand that it’s quite liberating to toss out your razor and embrace your inner Moses, I wanted to take the opportunity to beg all of Penn State’s men to reconsider going full beard.
I acknowledge the inherent sexiness of the scruffy facial hair or maybe the hipster allure of the goatee, but before taking it too far, just hear me (and likely most of the women out there) out.
First, beards echo back to a time when mankind was much more primitive than today. Let me take you back to a few notable historical beards, and how they size up in today’s beard culture.
The Spartans, for instance, launched themselves into battle arguably by the power of their mighty facial hair. But it’s likely you don’t quite have the abs of King Leonidas, so it’s safe to say that I’m not going to be too drawn in by the animal living on your chin.
King Henry VIII had six wives, some of whom were many years his junior, and they, too, may have been drawn in by the call of his ginger beard. Fast-forward to 2012, and I would rather spend a month in the Tower of London awaiting my inevitable execution, a la Anne Boleyn, than kiss you through that thing.
Abraham Lincoln liberated the slaves and reunited the union all while sporting a great chin-beard. But I’m going to assume you major in drinking Pabst Blue Ribbon if I see you rocking the same look.
Second, they’re itchy. Really itchy.
And I am not going to sit there and watch you incessantly scratch your face and dig at your chin, while you’re supposed to be paying attention to me.
It’s gross. Are there fleas hiding in there, too? Like, there’s one easy way to make it all stop: grabbing a razor.
I’ll even volunteer to help. I’m sure your girlfriend would, too. Even your mom would probably get in out if you really need some assistance.
Third, a beard reminds me of my dad. Or my grandfather. Or worse, of a stinky, disgusting hobo.
Does that sound sexy to you?
While my dad is an amazing person, and you’d be lucky to have me compare you to him, dads don’t quite equal up to hot. Maybe when I’m 40 the beard won’t feel so aged, but for now, it’s definitely not something I’m comfortable approving on your face…daddy.
If that’s not quite enough to convince you, then I have one more trick up my sleeve. Do you know what horrid thing No Shave November invites?
If you don’t have to shave, I don’t have to shave. If men are going the full facial monthy, then guess what — smooth legs are out the door until Christmas.
It gets worse beyond there. Do you want all of the women in the world to go without shaving their underarms until Thanksgiving? Didn’t think so. I’m not going to take that nightmare any further, but I think you know where we’re going with this.
So to you, men of Penn State and the world, I say this: please, please, please reconsider No Shave November.
In the end, you’re only doing yourselves a favor.
And if you insist on growing some kind of facial hair, at least make sure you at least do it for "Movember," which supports the Prostate Cancer Foundation and similar charities. More information can be found at movember.com.
But if you're just feeling too lazy to pick up a razor, stop and think for a moment.
Paige Minemyer is a senior majoring in print journalism and political science and is the Collegian’s copy desk co-chief. Email her at firstname.lastname@example.org