Yesterday I saw an overly-manicured and twirled moustache walking down the street with a hipster attached to the back of it. The hipster wore an ensemble of clothing arranged to draw the attention of onlookers, and the moustache was waxed un-naturally, for extra gaze-drawing effect. To top off the look, the hair growing from the hipster’s scalp was parted dramatically, harking back to Georgian days of colonial conquest, when tall, white men of blue blood would shoot Zulus on the veld to keep their ammunition quota in check.
I wonder – how long did this kid spend saving his pounds for the waxes, creams, combs, threads and straps which hold together his personality? And how much time was spent arranging said material on his appropriately starved frame?
Would young man understand if I explained why his habits offend? Why hours spent cycling on the roundabout of retailed identity do nothing but perpetuate the visage of hip?
The answer is, I’m not sure…but I’m confident that at a time in history when more and more can be done to make a better future for more and more disadvantaged, spending your time attending to pubic hair on your face, while others toil, is not the best use of your time. And I remain offended – not to mention unimpressed.