Movember? Isn’t it, I say, what-ho, jolly good, splendid! And so on, but for the chaps currently donning a lip rug, nose slug or curly Joe, it’s more than just an occasion for merriment and comparisons on the correct way to use wax.
It’s not just a rather fetching accruement to your latest purchases from Timothy Everest either; in the month of November growing a tash means you’re raising awareness, and possibly hard cash, for testicular and prostate cancer, which I think we can all agree is probably better than spending the month steeling oneself for the imminent festive debauchery by drinking, eating and smoking your body weight in port, cheese and Cohiba cigars. Isn’t it?
So here’s to the gents going all out for a good cause. I’m sat here awaiting the arrival of my tiffin as, alas, being of the fair, nay, ginger contingent, it would take at least four months of growth before I end up looking anything like a prepubescent Tom Selleck after a full body wax – picture that; I dare you. So once the port, cheese, and later today, cigar, eventually arrive, I’ll be sure to be dipping in my butler’s pocket for a crisp pair of blues and sending them on their merry way to one of my moustachioed colleagues’ fundraising pages. If you are feeling particularly flush, why not join me and throw a couple of quid into the pot or, if you would like to do something less direct, why not enjoy a pint of fine ale, a fine Kentish ale, a fine pint of premium Kentish Spitfire Ale, the only ale with enough harrumph to be considered the official drink of the Movmeber campaign. And if that wasn’t enough, why not read the diary extract of a real Spitfire pilot here.