I grew a beard the other night.
At least I hope it was overnight.
It would be so mortifying if it had been luxuriantly growing for days … and everyone saw … but was too embarrassed to say anything …
OK, it wasn’t actually a beard. It was just a few really, really long whiskers.
I’m talking five centimetres loooooooong.
I keep a pair of tweezers in my car because it’s usually when I’m driving that I remember to feel around for stray hairs. Also, the lighting in my bathroom is shite and so is my eyesight.
Anyways, I’d forgotten to check for a few days. I was applying my lippie in the rear vision mirror yesterday morning when I saw the hairs glistening in the sunlight.
I’m still a bit scarred by it. They were fair dinkum the longest ones I’ve ever pulled.
I was reminded of a former colleague, who noticed a stray hair in the rear vision mirror just before she went to do a celebrity interview. She didn’t have any tweezers, so she decided to use a cigarette lighter to burn it off and accidentally melted her false eyelashes instead. She ended up doing the interview with what looked like two giant squashed spiders on her face.
At least I didn’t melt anything other than my pride.
I once noted, in a blog post called ‘7 annoying things about being 47’ that my No.2 annoyance was having enough stray hairs to rival this cactus …
Pfft, that was nuthin’ compared to what happens to your face when you’re almost-50. Three years makes a big different in the chin bouffant stakes.
It turns out I’m not the first blogger to self-depilate their face in the car.
Mrs Woog wrote a post about lady beards in 2016 that noted:
I knew the situation was getting out of hand when Jack leant over in the car and stroked the side of my face and told me ‘Mum, you are growing a little beard!’ Of course he was correct. I am not talking chin hairs, although that is going to be fun. I can join the gang of women that you see, when you pull up at the lights, peering into their rear vision mirror, tweezers in hand. I am talking about the fine, downy fluff that one acquires running from your ear lobe, across the bottom of your cheek and down to your jawline. Vellus. That is its correct name. I am growing Vellus.
She also let it all hang out in 2014 in a post called ‘How To Grow A Moustache’:
A few weeks ago I was hanging out with a mate when I noticed that she had a long hair sprouting from her chin. I didn’t say anything. Perhaps I should have, but back then, I was unaware of how to address facial hair when it comes to rogue growth.
Later, she discovered it, and berated me for not letting her know. So that was my direct lesson in how to resolve this issue. Just hand over a pair of tweezers silently, and let the business get done. A bit like alerting someone that they have something in their teeth, or their boob is hanging out of their swimmers. My mum keeps a set in the car to amuse herself when the lights are red.
I am Mrs Woog’s mum. Hurrah.
And then there’s the hilarious Pinky Poinker, who wrote a blog post called ‘Pinky’s A-Z Guide to Menopause’.
It started with:
A: Accept the fact you won’t be having any more babies. You will however, grow a plethora of small, bristly chin hairs you can nurture should you get clucky. I’ve named each of mine Rachel, Monica and Phoebe.”
As an aside, O was hilarious:
O: Oestrogen Cream. This is perhaps the best thing about menopause. W
Warning: Read the label because if you apply it too often and in too large a quantity after you’ve been drinking it may cause you to have multiple orgasms in your sleep.
Not that it ever happened to me but someone told me and not that I tried it out after they told me either because that would be silly and irresponsible.
If you use the special applicator, you’ll be able to deliver the precise dose but if you find the applicator on the bedroom floor, all chewed up by the dog, go and get another one from the chemist, don’t just guess the amount you need to apply.
Also check to see if your dog has grown boobs.
Dr Google tells me chin hairs are caused by testosterone. When menopause approaches, your ovaries’ production of estrogen drops considerably but they still pump out the testosterone. It tips the balance between your male and female sex hormone levels, which can trigger the growth of sparse, coarse facial hair.
Although further Googling has revealed there are a few upsides to all that testosterone. But this is a family blog … well, apart from the Brazilian waxing and frequent triceratops sex references.
It also explains why I’m not getting hot flashes and night sweats.
And that’s probably enough TMI for today.
Catch you next week! Have a good weekend!
Song of the day: The Greatest Showman “This is me”