Someone told me recently that beards are a bit like Marmite.
No, you don’t smear them on your toast in the morning. Apparently you either love them or hate them.
I have to disagree. I’ve always been ambivalent about beards, failing miserably yet again to have firm views on an issue that seemingly excites others.
But since November I have sported a beard for the first time (apart from a week in late November when, thanks to a shaving disaster, I was rocking a big handlebar moustache).
I learned my trimming lesson and now I have a full beard.
I’ve grown to like the beard – no pun intended. It might be psychological, but my face does feel warmer when I’m walking to and from work in the winter, or when I’ve been out on my bike.
Rachel likes my beard, which is obviously important.
My mum and sister are less keen. My nieces seemed a bit nonplussed. My dad put his business head on and said he was anti-beard too as it sent out the wrong corporate messages, although he wasn’t forthcoming about what they might be.
One of our directors at work isn’t happy with my beard, although most other colleagues seem to like it. One did make the point that the beard made me look older and when I asked how old she replied “early 40’s”. As I’m 42, I took this as a positive…I think.
I am still a little concerned, however, that the combination of bald head and full beard now gives my face a certain upside down quality.
Whatever, I like my beard.
And yet I know I will face a dilemma soon.
As I’m busy job hunting, the question is if I get asked for an interview do I go fully bearded up or should I shave?
But decisions for another time.
For the moment I’ll enjoy my warm face and upside down head for a while longer.