Alright, so I wasn’t too thrilled with the ironic mustache, but living in San Francisco’s Mission District I’ve learned to cope with it. Let the scruffy kids do what they want, and as facial hair goes the ‘stache isn’t the worst choice out there. But after seeing the handlebar mustache leap off the face of your local underachiever and onto everything from necklaces to key holders to panties to pint glasses, I have to say to all the cool kids, “Your look is totally played out. And by the way, you might want to rethink that owl tattoo."
Just as ninjas and pirates have captured the imaginations of the Dane Cook set, so it seems Victorian gentlemen and their sartorial sense has sent ripples through the design world. (Does it fill me with glee to note that the look favored by the indie kids was picked up by a wandering band of neo-hippies whose name starts with “Ph” some 15 years ago? Yes, yes it does.) From whence this fascination with the Gilded Age and the attendant steam punkificiation of your neighborhood dive bar comes I cannot say. Though I’m pretty sure that The Decemberists, and possibly Portland, Oregon, are responsible. The Jules Verne estate rejoices.
Like antlers and avians before them, designers have embraced the waxed handlebar with all the gusto of Orville and Wilbur at Kitty Hawk. And, as is inevitable, interior décor has followed suit. Latest in the trend is this Mustachio wallpaper by Natalie Wright for Flavor Paper which is already lining trust-funded walls from Williamsburg to Wicker Park. Enough already!