Movember is upon us once again and everywhere you look men are sprouting everything from a wispy, insubstantial crumbcatcher on their upper lip to the other extreme: the full Sainsbury.
I don't have to go far to see a smashing moustache on a daily basis. My husband, who was a hair model in his teens, progressed to a full beard when we first courted, then became the long-time owner of a 70s-style lip rug.
I wouldn't say he is the proud owner of this face furniture; he keeps it more to please me (but drew the line at the gold chain and ingot I bought to show off his hairy chest). But it has sometimes been a struggle for him, as New Zealand women seem to need smelling salts whenever a man with a genuine moustache (not a Movember mo or an ironic, hipster-doofus statement-moustache) is in their vicinity. For their own husbands, it's a definite no, with all sorts of unpleasantness threatened if their men dare progress past the two-day stubble stage.
Maybe it's my European side coming through, but I sometimes think I must be the only woman in New Zealand who appreciates hair on a man. And while I don't really go in for the ZZ-Top-style redneck special (which - true story - will have its own category at the upcoming 2013 Redneck Games in Mt Vernon, Texas), I do like a moustache or beard on a man with the right kind of hair, worn with the right kind of attitude.