Amanda on Competitive Bearding: A Manly Miss America

I got conned into watching Whisker Wars after losing a bet to Dave. He insisted that I would like it. I watched the first episode with bitter reluctance, and then pretended I was still bitterly reluctant while watching the second, third, and fourth episodes, partly because I didn’t want Dave to know he was right, and partly because I wanted to be able to hold it over his head as something that I did even though I didn’t want to, which could maybe win me a back rub or two.

Competitive bearding is, at its core, a form of pageantry. Hairy, manly, beer-drenched pageantry but pageantry nonetheless. Yes, the intricate patterns of curls in these beards are often made with beer cans instead of curlers. But if you take a cupcake and ice it with Jack Daniels steak sauce, it is still a cupcake.

But this contrast is what makes the show sort of awesome. Bearded manly men walking around drinking beer does not make good television. Bearded manly men walking around drinking beer and taking turns hair-spraying and primping each other makes good television.

My gut revulsion to the show came from one of its stars: Jack Passion. Passion, who says things such as “I’m going to beat everyone and then spit on them,” turns bearding into a cast for his bruised ego. Does that mean that the entire culture is like this? No. In fact, James Moody, the hilarious “spiritual advisor” to the Austin Facial Hair Club, emphasizes the importance of the ying and yang of beards: in order to be a respectable beardsman, your “inner beard,” or attitude and sportsmanship, must be just as impressive as your outer beard.

And even if I totally hated the show, I might still watch it because of this guy:

Aarne Bielefeldt is the founding member of the Terminal Length Beard Club whose philosophy is to just “Let it Grow.” When Aarne suffered a string of losses and switched categories from Full Beard Natural to Freestyle, I came close to swearing off Whisker Wars for good. But even with his switch to the showier category, Aarne maintains his down-to-earth attitude, still wears outfits sewn by his wife, and still dons his adorable old man grin. My favorite moment of the series is when Aarne produces a collection of sepia photographs that he has taken of beards that inspire him, including one of his fellow competitor holding his daughter who, head-to-toe, is only a bit longer than his beard. Aarne says that he collects these pictures because they resonate with him emotionally. And who am I to discredit the value of something as heartfelt and innocent as that?

Dave on Competitive Bearding: The Importance of Being Bearded

One thing that has caused a number of arguments between my rival and I is the amount of appreciation competitive beard growers should receive, which is why we chose this as our first topic. I can sum up my views on competitive beard growing in just a couple of syllables: awesome.

The sport of bearding is focused around a number of international circuit events that lead up to the World Beard and Mustache Championships. Here, a number of competitors are judged in a variety of beard categories such as Imperial Partial, Musketeer, Styled Mustache, and Freestyle. The main event, and hands down the most impressive (as well as my personal favorite), is the main event, the Full Beard Natural. Here competitors grow their beards to outrageous lengths and are judged extensively on length, mass, density, shape, color, and overall impression.

If right now you are saying to yourself, “this is ridiculous,” then you try growing and grooming a facial garden worthy of international competition. While I will openly admit that bearding is not an actual sport (solely because it is not on ESPN, which is my only qualification of something being a sport) I do think competitive beard growers deserve the same amount of admiration and attention as any other public figure and much more than any of the Kardashians.

Some people would criticize the time, effort, and dedication that goes into growing and grooming a beard, however, these same people probably wouldn’t criticize someone for spending that much time and care on their petunias. Competitive beards are like the petunias of the face, except that you can’t sneak popcorn into a movie theater with your petunias.

Competitive beard growing makes perfect sense since everything is a competition to men. That is just the nature of male thinking. World-class beardsman, Jack Passion, best represents the spirit of competitive beard growing. Although his comments like, “ I am a teapot, all it takes is someone to tip me over, pour me out, and their going to get f****** burned,” make him a hated competitor, I think he is nothing but entertaining. Jack Passion's obnoxious confidence and holier-than-thou attitude is all forgiven by me since he has the best beard in the world.

I should say that I might be slightly biased because I think everyone should grow out their mos, at least just a little. Why go out of your way every single morning to shave when you know it will grow back in just a few hours? Imagine how awesome it would be to have No Shave November all year round. I do not think it is a coincidence that you could easily think of a witty anti-shave name for each month: No Shave November, Don’t Shave December, Just Grow January, Face Forest February, Massive Mo March, etc. In fact, there are a number of reasons why you should grow a beard. Here are just a few:

1. Facial hair is a celebration of manhood.
2. You will have a built-in bib.
3. A beard acts as a man purse without the embarrassment of carrying a man purse.
4. Pancakes literally taste better with a beard.

Competitive beard growers take an ordinary process and make it extraordinary. If you still think competitive beard growing is a joke, check out the World Beard and Moustache Championships and maybe you will think otherwise.