Mustaches: They're gross, they scratch my face, and the Civil War is over

Johnny Depp at his mustache-less best.

While we're on the topic of types and dating, I want to talk about the "Nice Guys of OKCupid" Tumblr, which collects and showcases the dating profiles of various dipshit dudes and points out how fucked up they are toward women based on their answers to OkCupid's bizarre perfect-matching questions. Although the Tumblr has apparently been shut down in the last 48 hours, one of the most frequently responded to inquiries by men is in regards to a girl's responsibility to keep her legs shaved.

Of course, for the sake of human free will and feminism in general I believe it is no one's responsibility to shave his or her legs. But I do. And I know that when I am getting ready to go out, or if I think some mundane grocery-shopping trip might lead to meeting the love of my life at Sprouts, I shave my legs. Maybe it's just the tween in me that so meticulously bought Flicker razors in the '90s to shave my legs with because some skewed beauty magazine told eleven-year-old me that was what I needed to do to attract a man, and I've been doing it ever since.

Ian Curtis, thankfully never photographed with a mustache

But back to mustaches. As much as I hate them, my disdain has accelerated to an even higher level because of the kitschy culture that sprung up almost a decade ago and is still holding on for dear life (in Colorado, anyway.) I hate stick-on mustaches, mugs with mustaches on them, fake glasses with mustaches chained to them (I also hate fake glasses because only idiots who have no idea what it's like to have prescription glasses wear them), mirrors with mustaches painted for you to "try on," mustaches tattooed on the inside of an index finger and t-shirts emblazoned "free mustache rides." I hate it all. It is annoying, stupid and the furthest thing from ironic and not close to being funny.

But I don't think I could have such a big, sassy attitude about facial hair without acknowledging the obvious: I believe you can look like whatever the hell you want. It's your body. If you like having a mustache, have it. It doesn't mean I, or anyone else, has to like it. Taste is subjective; the fact that I think mustaches are gross doesn't have any bearing on a person's character or life's work. I have (or maybe it will be past tense after this piece is published) plenty of really wonderful friends with mustaches.

Aesthetically speaking, there are plenty of people out there who love your mustache. They think it's hot. They want to ride it, just like your shirt might be saying right now. The truth is, you might have a mustache, and I might still find you attractive. (Though chances are I fantasize about what you look like without one.) But in the free world, you can have any kind of mustache ya want, and more power to you.

But maybe I just don't like your mustache because it hurts my inner thighs. ZING!

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