Movember is upon us, Bless The Lords, and guys everywhere are taking advantage of a charity moment to do something they secretly really want to do a lot of the time: sport moustaches. And so they should! Moustaches look great!

But it SEEMS like lots of the young dudes who’re thrilled that they get to sport moustaches are the same young dudes who shit all over the hipsters who helped bring back the young-dude-moustache in the first place. And when they shit on those hipsters, they aren’t shitting compliments, guys. They’re shitting SHIT.

Young dudes: first off, we have to accept that the hipsters were right. They were right! Most hipsters are called hipsters because they’re fashionable, as in, they’re more interested in fashion that most people, they know more about fashion than most people… they like fashion! Moustaches are a part of fashion. They go out, they come back in. Like the tides. And hipsters are the moon, bringing that tide in. It can take years for the rest of us to catch up!

HIPSTERS ARE THE MOON.

I’m not even joking right now, although it sort of feels weird to hold this opinion in earnest. I’m not saying every fashion choice a hipster makes is good, but some are bound to be bad because they’re risky choices. (And here I’m using hipster as I understand it, which is to say, the kind of wonderfully cool weirdos who really stand out, as opposed to the people who buy what those weirdos were wearing years ago at Urban Outfitters. But it’s a fine line, and a blurry one, so it’s best just to move on and accept that whatever pejorative you have in your head when I say hipster, it’s too broad.)

Hipsters (read: cool people, cool being another word I’m using absolutely in earnest) take fashion risks, and this is good. We get a safe fashion palette that’s been handed down through years of other people’s risks. The moustache looks good now because we got used to seeing it, and we got used to seeing it because hipsters made sure we saw it. We should wear fucking POPPIES to commemorate the derision they suffered while making the moustache look good again.

HIPSTERS ARE WAR VETERANS AND ALSO THE MOON. 

But what’s my point, besides the fact that we all owe every hip young dude one cultural gold coin? Here is my point: If we do not learn from history, young dudes, we are doomed to repeat it, young dudes.

You know how sometimes you see a guy with a rat tail and it makes you want to spit, young dudes? You know what you’re seeing when you look at that guy? You’re seeing yourself in a FUTURE MIRROR.

OH YES, YOUNG DUDES.

In five years time, you will be that young man, sporting that rat tail you’ve secretly longed to sport! Perhaps you’ll be doing it to support male scalp cancer or general head cancer or something, but you’ll be doing it. And then hopefully you’ll take a moment out of the fun that is Rat-tail-bruary and thank the hipsters who suffered your derision to bring one more fringe condiment to our cultural picnic. 

HIPSTERS ARE THE PEOPLE WHO PACK OUR PICNIC BASKETS.

THEY ARE ALSO WAR VETERANS AND THE MOON.

And if Rat-tail-bruary doesn’t come to fruition, some other fashion-excuse holiday will. Skinny-jeans-tober? Shaved-side-of-head-pril? 

So this Movember, find a hipster and apologize to him. Then say “Thanks,” point to your poppy, pound your fist against your heart, point to the moon, and say “For everything.”

Please.

Love from,

Mark