What are your thoughts on beards? On a potential make-out partner, I
have mixed feelings. I’ve lived in the beard forest that is Brooklyn for
the past few years, and I must admit that I’ve come to admire a hipster
beard or two. You want me to make out with what nowBeards are totally fine in theory. In practice though, some beards have a highly unfortunate effect on my skin, as if they were constructed
Whatever your feelings on beards for the menfolk, you might assume
that it’s safe to say that beards have never been a good look for the
ladies. Female facial hair is so taboo that waxing salons don’t even
dare list it (at my salon, it appears that one would have to request,
and pay separately for, waxing of one’s cheeks and “lower lip” instead
of one convenient lady beard removal request). Merely having a few chin
hairs could qualify as a life-long bearded lady career not so long ago
in the circus’ “differently beautiful” section.
also admit it if you got them a couple shots of tequila, occasionally
sprout a few unwanted hairs on my chinny-chin-chin. And sure, it’s no
big deal to take care of them/make sure no one finds my tube of facial
hair removal cream (it’s buried in a Fort Knox of feminine hygiene
products).But this column is here to remind you that everything you think gross is another culture’s shining beauty spot.So guess what: lady beards are hot.
At least they’re hot when sported by lady saints. The Catholics have
thought up a couple of bearded lady saints, most famously Saint
Wilgefortis (also known as Saint Uncumber, which is totally not fair –
not one but two awesome names!).
|St. Wilgefortis, chillin’|
Europeans started worshipping Wilgefortis in the 14th century, after a
legend arouse about how, back in late antiquity, a Portuguese princess
converted to Christianity and promised God that she would remain a pure
and chaste virgin. Unfortunately, her father had other plans, including
arranging a marriage for Wilgefortis with the pagan king of Sicily.
Wilgefortis prayed for a miracle that would allow her to keep her
and God caused the miracle of facial hair. Overnight, she grew a
luxuriant beard and mustache. Her father slapped on a thick veil and
made prepare for marriage, but she let the veil slip and her fiancé was
like “ummmmm no.”
See, beards are beautiful! In a kind of virgin for life, man repelling kind of way, but hey, man repelling is totally a fashion thing.
Sadly for our heroine, her father was so angry that she disobeyed him
about the whole arranged marriage/beard-hiding thing that he had her
crucified. At least she got to be worshipped for a couple of centuries
by women seeking to escape from arranged marriages or abusive husbands
(although, presumably, through other means than miracle beard followed
shortly by crucifixion).
Even more sadly, the Vatican was also all like “ummmmm no” when it
officially declared in 1969 that Wilgefortis wasn’t a real saint and
had, in fact, never existed. They claimed that her legend arouse when
people were trying to explain images of a bearded Jesus with long hair
and a long robe that looked like a dress.
But that’s way too logical. I prefer to think that virgin lady beards
are beautiful. Next fashion trend in Williamsburg, you guys! Well,
except maybe the virgin part.