A few weeks ago I started a full set beard. In other words not shaving at all. I had never tried this before which is quite unusual as most men will have had a go in their twenties and if for no other reason than laziness. Still most have seen and felt the effect. Me no. So A few weeks ago I decided I wanted to see what it looked like in its natural colour as soon enough it will begin changing.
Now, while I’m not going to compare growing a beard to child-birth. It does have some things in common. One, no one tells you stuff. Mind you with child-birth you’d imagine they’d be little enough need. It isn’t exactly a complex series of mathematical equations coming to the conclusion that anything widening 200 times its usual size regardless if that was its design, it will be a tad traumatic.
Beards are equally natural. Men are hormonally designed to grow them. But I can tell you that I can easily see how the first fellow came up with a flint flake. Laag sitting at the mouth his cave 35,000 years ago looking out over the beautiful valley of the Dordogne, but not seeing it. Surrounded by a clutch of tow haired kids, the fruit of many a night plumbing the depths of pleasure beneath the furs, not seeing them either. Magh, his mate, feeling fruity and contemplating a sweet night a bit later when all the kids are asleep sashays past him with a come-and-get-it roll of the hip and a ripe nut-brown globe freely seen beyond the loosened lace of her tunic, and Laag sees nothing. No Laag is banging two rocks together in a vain attempt to ease the face being EATEN off him by a beard.
The rock smashes in his hand. He looks down and sees the red oozing around the flakes and through the haze of blinding irritation has a dawning. He could
slit shave off the offending stuff with the flakes of flint.
Six months later. Magh has divorced him, taking the kids and is now in a polygamous relationship with Naag and Dees. Laag, bare-faced as a boy has the new profession of flint knapper billing by the hour or part thereof, and is making a go of it. He has expanded the franchise and has developed the high-tech to de-hairing shins and skins, with a sideline in flakes for spears and arrows. He has caught the eye of Jaaf, a somewhat confused sporty lass. Who is doing a beta test on a concave flint flake to remove underarm growth she finds snags on bushes.
It is unbelievable the irritation cause by a growing beard. It felt like my face being eaten with hundreds and thousands of living things. And it was never-ending. Two weeks in and I knew I was doing something very wrong. Very wrong indeedy.
Surprisingly your face dries out more with a beard than without. And once the skin becomes less flexible every micron of movement is felt as the skin sticks and then releases to the shaft of hair. What you do to grow a beard is moisturize moisturize moisturize. Don’t put anything on it in the shower. That’s where I went really wrong. I worked off the headhair and shampood and conditioned the bejapers out of it. I couldn’t have done worse.
Anyhowzies, It seems I’m mostly blonde, +95%, with black -5%. Hardly a shock as I’ve got blonde hair and black brows and lashes. The problem with a blonde man growing a beard is the length needed for viability/visibility. The dark 5 o’clock shadow has instant visibility, with a blonde man you have to get into inches. Anything less has an out of focus feel. And with certain shades, an aspect of dirty face.
All in all, if ever I do it again I will be slathering on the B3. If what I read on the web has a grain of truth to it I should carry a tube in my pocket as I spend a goodly amount of time in the outdoors and the worse the better.