Bad News, Beards
From The Guardian:

Hirsute men have been warned their attractiveness to potential partners may fade as facial hair becomes more prevalent, in a scenario researchers have called “peak beard”.
Research conducted by the University of NSW finds that, when people are confronted by a succession of bearded men, clean-shaven men become more attractive to them.

Photo: Brian Wilson, musician; beard and novelty t-shirt aficionado.
-Pete (currently bearded)

Bad News, Beards

From The Guardian:

Hirsute men have been warned their attractiveness to potential partners may fade as facial hair becomes more prevalent, in a scenario researchers have called “peak beard”.

Research conducted by the University of NSW finds that, when people are confronted by a succession of bearded men, clean-shaven men become more attractive to them.

Photo: Brian Wilson, musician; beard and novelty t-shirt aficionado.

-Pete (currently bearded)

"Putting on (H)airs"
The Appendix has a great story about Abraham Lincoln’s famous beard (or “whiskers,” as writers of that time would say). He grew it a few weeks before his inauguration, supposedly on the advice of Grace Bedell, an eleven year old girl who wrote him a letter during his campaign. An excerpt from the article:

Rather, Lincoln’s whiskers were meant to signify urbanity and refinement. Adopting a fashionable style of grooming—the wreath of whiskers that had been a fixture of men’s fashion for decades—Lincoln offered a visual counterpoint to persistent barbs about his rough manners, rural upbringing, and rustic sense of humor. Holzer, then, was at least partly right about the meaning of Lincoln’s whiskers. He was, in fact, shedding the campaign image of the frontier railsplitter. But instead of adopting the look of a firm patriarch (or even a stern sexton), he was cultivating the appearance of a man of the world: a person of humble origins but hard-earned cultural capital.
He had good reason to do so. Since assuming the national stage, Lincoln had been dogged by doubts about his social graces. An article from the Columbus, Ohio Crisis, for instance, lampooned his ignorance of classical languages, while informing polite readers that Lincoln had only recently “abstained from facetiously designating hotel napkins as towels.” And one contemporary, recalling an encounter between the former Secretary of the Navy George Bancroft and Lincoln noted a “most striking” contrast between the two: “the one courtly and precise in his every word and gesture, with the air of a trans-Atlantic statesman; the other bluff and awkward, his every utterance an apology for his ignorance of metropolitan manners and customs.” Eager to dispel these aspersions—especially in light of unfavorable comparisons between himself and the stately Jefferson Davis—Lincoln grew fashionable whiskers, not a patriarchal beard.
What does this story tell us about Old Abe Lincoln? Besides the obvious—that the “most famous beard in American history” was not a beard at all—it reveals something about the nature of power in Civil War-era America. Taking command of a sinking ship of state and confronted with dire questions about his fitness for office, Abraham Lincoln chose a set of symbols that emphasized urbanity over more obvious emblems of authority. Calling on an old set of ideas about gentility and power, the president-elect claimed, in effect, that the right to rule hinged as much on politeness as on patriarchal strength or the imprimatur of the people. It’s a strange story, to be sure. But it reminds us of the extraordinary currency of symbols like these: that faced with national dissolution and civil war, Lincoln sought the urbane sophistication required for his job in, of all places, his hair.

You can read the full story at The Appendix.
(Story found via IQ Fashion)

"Putting on (H)airs"

The Appendix has a great story about Abraham Lincoln’s famous beard (or “whiskers,” as writers of that time would say). He grew it a few weeks before his inauguration, supposedly on the advice of Grace Bedell, an eleven year old girl who wrote him a letter during his campaign. An excerpt from the article:

Rather, Lincoln’s whiskers were meant to signify urbanity and refinement. Adopting a fashionable style of grooming—the wreath of whiskers that had been a fixture of men’s fashion for decades—Lincoln offered a visual counterpoint to persistent barbs about his rough manners, rural upbringing, and rustic sense of humor. Holzer, then, was at least partly right about the meaning of Lincoln’s whiskers. He was, in fact, shedding the campaign image of the frontier railsplitter. But instead of adopting the look of a firm patriarch (or even a stern sexton), he was cultivating the appearance of a man of the world: a person of humble origins but hard-earned cultural capital.

He had good reason to do so. Since assuming the national stage, Lincoln had been dogged by doubts about his social graces. An article from the Columbus, Ohio Crisis, for instance, lampooned his ignorance of classical languages, while informing polite readers that Lincoln had only recently “abstained from facetiously designating hotel napkins as towels.” And one contemporary, recalling an encounter between the former Secretary of the Navy George Bancroft and Lincoln noted a “most striking” contrast between the two: “the one courtly and precise in his every word and gesture, with the air of a trans-Atlantic statesman; the other bluff and awkward, his every utterance an apology for his ignorance of metropolitan manners and customs.” Eager to dispel these aspersions—especially in light of unfavorable comparisons between himself and the stately Jefferson Davis—Lincoln grew fashionable whiskers, not a patriarchal beard.

What does this story tell us about Old Abe Lincoln? Besides the obvious—that the “most famous beard in American history” was not a beard at all—it reveals something about the nature of power in Civil War-era America. Taking command of a sinking ship of state and confronted with dire questions about his fitness for office, Abraham Lincoln chose a set of symbols that emphasized urbanity over more obvious emblems of authority. Calling on an old set of ideas about gentility and power, the president-elect claimed, in effect, that the right to rule hinged as much on politeness as on patriarchal strength or the imprimatur of the people. It’s a strange story, to be sure. But it reminds us of the extraordinary currency of symbols like these: that faced with national dissolution and civil war, Lincoln sought the urbane sophistication required for his job in, of all places, his hair.

You can read the full story at The Appendix.

(Story found via IQ Fashion)

Above: The relationship between the frequencies of men’s beards and the width of women’s skirts, charted over time from 1823 to 1970. The graph is taken from a paper published in The American Journal of Sociology. According to The Atlantic: 

Robinson’s theory as to why fashion—both sartorial and hirsute—seems to come in waves is this: Young people tend to eschew the tastes of their elders, but old trends seem new again after a sufficient amount of time has passed. So while long skirts may fall out of favor for one generation, their grandchildren will think they’re the cat’s pajamas.

Above: The relationship between the frequencies of men’s beards and the width of women’s skirts, charted over time from 1823 to 1970. The graph is taken from a paper published in The American Journal of Sociology. According to The Atlantic: 

Robinson’s theory as to why fashion—both sartorial and hirsute—seems to come in waves is this: Young people tend to eschew the tastes of their elders, but old trends seem new again after a sufficient amount of time has passed. So while long skirts may fall out of favor for one generation, their grandchildren will think they’re the cat’s pajamas.

My good friend (and colleague) Graham Clark paints with his beard for charity. So I guess I’m saying that if you’re in Vancouver, and you don’t go to his show, you’re a real so-and-so.

My good friend (and colleague) Graham Clark paints with his beard for charity. So I guess I’m saying that if you’re in Vancouver, and you don’t go to his show, you’re a real so-and-so.

Inspired by a comment that my co-host Jordan Morris made on this week’s Jordan, Jesse, Go!, Justin Russo made this amazing graphic.
My first nomination for “Triple Beard Score” status is Steve “Bedrock” Bedrosian.

Inspired by a comment that my co-host Jordan Morris made on this week’s Jordan, Jesse, Go!, Justin Russo made this amazing graphic.

My first nomination for “Triple Beard Score” status is Steve “Bedrock” Bedrosian.

beardpaintings:
My friend and colleague Graham Clark is a painter. Rather than using a brush, he uses his beard, which is attached to his lower face area, and quite large. He sells the paintings he paints to raise money for a friend’s cancer treatment.
So: follow him on Tumblr, so you can hear about future paintings. And enjoy the one above, inspired by the dress of one P.W. Herman.

beardpaintings:

My friend and colleague Graham Clark is a painter. Rather than using a brush, he uses his beard, which is attached to his lower face area, and quite large. He sells the paintings he paints to raise money for a friend’s cancer treatment.

So: follow him on Tumblr, so you can hear about future paintings. And enjoy the one above, inspired by the dress of one P.W. Herman.

(Source: beardpaintings)

Via Dim Tool Dim Bulb
siwanoy:

For some, double breasted jackets never went out of style……Prince Michael of Kent.

Michael: Prince of Kent, King of Beards.

siwanoy:

For some, double breasted jackets never went out of style……Prince Michael of Kent.

Michael: Prince of Kent, King of Beards.

(via da-i-net)

"I’m just rockin’ the beard, havin’ fun." - Brian Wilson
Go Giants.

"I’m just rockin’ the beard, havin’ fun." - Brian Wilson

Go Giants.

My Interview at Build-a-Beard

lonelysandwich:

Renowned beardblog Build-a-Beard interviewed me about my beard, my take on beard culture, the history of my beard, and my thoughts on recent beard developments in the bearding industry.

It’s a two-parter, but they’re both worth a read if you’ve ever been fascinated with my beard. It’s pretty much all in there. I’ve exhausted the topic. Here’s a snippet:

Q: Do a lot of your friends have beards?  How does corporate culture impact your bearded decision (or not)?
Not many of my friends have beards, actually. And that may be for many reasons: their careers may preclude the option, their personal style may conflict with the ruggedness of a beard, but I think most often it’s just that their sissy faces can’t really support the follicular activity. Every time I have the beard conversation with a friend, it’s always, “Oh, I can grow hair here and here, but it never comes in here.” And all I can feel is sad for them, the way my friends felt sad for me when I was 15 and hadn’t yet sprouted in my crotch or armpits.

Here’s Part I. And here’s Part II. There are some pretty ridiculous pictures.