leemovember.png

At 28, there’s still a small part of me waiting for puberty to finally kick in. Like many Asian men, the closest I’ve ever come to a five-o’clock shadow is when I’m leaving the office and the light hits the wall just so. I never really developed a respectable amount of facial hair, and nothing makes it more glaringly apparent than November, the cruelest month: Thanks to Movember, the Melbourne-founded global movement that encourages men all over the world to grow mustaches in support of men’s health programs combating prostate cancer, testicular cancer, and mental health challenges, I’m forced to confront my inability to grow a decent soup strainer every year.

Not being able to cultivate a grass grin is a problem many men face, not just Asians. It’s a gift as well as a curse, but feels only like the latter at a time when facial hair growth is so hot right now. It’s a reminder that if Movember were The Hunger Games, the odds are never in our favor. And these days, facial hair is a symbol of machoness more than ever. A recent study published in the journal Evolution &Human Behavior reported that women found men with ten-day "heavy" stubble most attractive and masculine. The men in the study ranked full beards at the top of the food chain, and the aforementioned ten-day beardos right after.

Meanwhile, Asians with facial hair are enough of a modern-day novelty that there is an entire website dedicated to documenting them. While there are definitely Asian mustache icons out there, like Manny Pacquiao’s pugilistic dirt squirrel, Genghis Khan’s barbaric near-goatee, and even Bruce Lee’s seldom-seen, highly formidable flavor saver (which I’m convinced he was forced to shave, lest he became too powerful—and obviously, so Chuck Norris’ beard could have a career), for me and many of my friends, our hair grows more like that of The Walking Dead’s Steven Yeun, who may or may not have slaved for days over the barely-there stubble in this Mr Porter editorial.

I’ve been there, Steven. If I don’t shave within two to three days, my upper lip starts to look like the place a balding rat decided to lie down and die, and turn into carbon. Letting my facial fur run rampant only results in overgrown peach fuzz rather than a fully evolved lip tickler. The worst are the errant hairs that exist in otherwise barren parts of my face—like, who the hell are you, and where did you come from? Growing a noticeable mustache isn’t impossible, but I need significantly more lead time than one month.

I tried out all sorts of urban legends in fruitless attempts to bolster my upper lipholstery. I shaved every day for a week because I heard my hair would grow back tenfold (and all I got was this gnarly case of razor burn). I applied Rogaine to my face, and it did nothing but burn (I wouldn’t wish that mistake on even my worst enemies). And while I’ve grown to accept my ’stache-less existence, Movember is an annual admonition that there’s a facial-haired hegemony that makes me and other men feel a bit marginalized. One look at Movember’s leaderboards outlines which countries are dominating the month, of the 21 countries listed, only Hong Kong and Singapore are located in Asia, while the others fall under the catchall, last-place category "rest of the world." The two countries at the top spots are Canada and the United States.