My First Movember: Christopher Sharpe, Week 2

It’s week two of Movember and our Movember Virgin Christopher checks in with an update on his hairy progress. Unfortunately, it looks like slow progress on the upper lip. 

Christopher Sharpe, day nine

Christopher Sharpe, day nine

I fear it is not here. The mo it will not grow. But let’s not get too rash about my tache, and for god’s sake stop rhyming.

7 days into Movember and here we are, a ghostly handlebar emerging around my maw. Ghostly bordering on complete invisibility apparently, as not a single person this week has brought up the mo independently, and at a guess, I’d say it’s not my intimidating bushy facial manliness which has instigated awed silence. To confirm my suspicions, a quick query as to its noticeability led to my brother taking a step forward. Then another. “There’s a solid three hairs there” came the response. Result.

Consequently, the gloom of moustache envy has begun to set in, and I see no light at the end of the tunnel. On the horizon I see me going full Gollum, succumbing to dark insinuations of “cheating” and generally burning bridges both metaphorically and literally. It’s only a matter of time before I set the precedent for moustache motivated murder. Poirot is taking his bow just in time for me to get away with it too.

I am of course over-stressing the significance of all this. Despite the sparseness, the token patch of ginger in the bottom left has bedded in nicely, so shout-outs are required. All my terracotta hustlers keep on shining. Praise be to Damian Lewis.

Further to this, a week in I feel rather pathetic. As the Prophet Scroobius Pip pointed out last week, there’s an element of Movember simply being “blokes not shaving for a bit and then patting themselves on the back like they’re doing something special”, and in that vein I’m planning on boosting my fundraising efforts. So as we speak I’m reading up on the statistics and tips, downloading the posters, generally becoming as charitably bothersome as possible, and more significantly booking myself onto the 5k MoRun in Milton Keynes. Because nothing says sexy like a sweaty mouth mirken. Join me!

Hang in there Christopher! I’m sure some pennies would encourage your tache along its way to its full glory, so give your pennies to Christopher’s budding tache here 

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About Francesca Peak

Lifestyle, arts and culture journalist.
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