Archives for posts with tag: grooming

I think it was Vidal Sassoon who famously once said that “Your hair is your crowning glory.”

And with a coif as masterful as that at age 107, who could argue with him? One only looks as good as one’s hair, and every girl and reasonably self-aware male above the age of 14 understands that all it takes is one bad hair day to ruin an otherwise magnificent ensemble.

So where does this leave bald men, i.e. the scintillatingly heart-stopping MDJ Superstar?

I have defended my skinheaded look by name-dropping countless examples of Beautiful Bald Men – those who have not relied on Bieber-esque locks to cause panties to get damp and brassiers to go flying. Agassi. Statham. Willis. Diesel. Connery. The Rock. Malkovich. These are men who have proven time and again that a shiny pate can be just as sexy as a Rob Pattinson flop-top.

It’s hard not to get jealous sometimes though.

The art of styling one’s hair is therapeutic, it’s a space of zen where masculinity and grace come together in a sensual mesh. I wish I could do it, but I haven’t got hair on my head.

Or… do I?

Facial hair is an underappreciated canvas for men to exhibit a bit of artistic expression. The conventional way is to grow a basic goatee, but I think that’s too safe, even with an occasional soulpatch for added effect.

(Caveat: Facial hair should never be TOO cultivated, lest one look like either a boyband member or Dr. Joel Mendez, neither of which is a good thing.)

There are so many joyous creations that can be sculpted out of facial hair.

Why not rock out with Lemmy Kilmeister-esque Motorhead Handlebar, also gloriously featured on the cover of the Beatles’ “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band”?

Or if one is feeling a bit redneck-ish, throw on a country spin with muttonchop sideburns and a 70s porn star  ’stache? (Ron Jeremy would be very proud of this one)

For Asian-themed parties, there’s always the classic Fu Manchu.

And what Mexican-inspired outfit wouldn’t be complete without a Mariachi Mustachio?

(At this point, I was feeling very politically-correct, and skipped the organic next step: The Adolf Hitler barcode. I don’t know any Jews, but think they are a wonderful people.)

It’s always emotionally-painful to go back to a completely clean-shaven look, but that’s where all good things must begin.

What’s your favourite facial hair style? Leave me feedback below, and if I like your input strongly enough, I just might carve it out of the beard I’m currently growing. You might not be able to shape the world, but you can shape my facial hair!

Leave a comment and help me decide what groovy shape to carve out of my beard!

How’s that for the first ever Interational MDJ Superstar Manscaping Promo???

I was never “that guy” growing up.

I suppose that’s one of the things that hits you when you’ve lived your life as a fat, sweaty, socially-inept boy – you’re never comfortable enough in your own skin to go out and hunt down the girl of your dreams. I swear to God I did not speak to a girl my age until I was in second year high school, and even then I wasn’t exactly the Sultan of Sexy.

I worked hard on my body, like hell I did, and even though I was sculpted like an only-slightly-porky Samoan Adonis, I still didn’t know how to sucker woo girls enough to be into me.

Here’s how awkward I was in trying to make conversation – before making a phone call, I needed to draft out a list on yellow pad of several possible topics to pepper the dialogue with: Are you going to the soph night? What do you think of the new Peter Andre CD? Which branch of Blowing Bubbles is your favourite? Which Backstreet Boy gets you wetter, Kevin or Nick?

And on and on and on.

As you can probably imagine, I was not a spectacular hit with the ladies. We’d often hang up after ten minutes. There’s only so much you can do when your responses amount exclusively to “Umm, hehe, cool,” and “Err, haha, yeah.” I think that’s why I found porn so magical. It never rejected me, and only occasionally made me feel bad about myself.

I came across this interesting survey by Axe Body Spray recently. One ginormous headline jumped out at me:

77% of Filipinas wish their men were more unpredictable.

Great, I thought to myself. I’m Mr. I-Script-Out-Every-Conversation. My idea of unpredictable is wearing gray Y-fronts on a date instead of the usual bacon-gartered tighty-whities. I like routine. I like being comfortable, and I like knowing what comes next. That’s probably why I can’t take watching competitive sports live; I hate the suspense of not knowing how things will turn out, and will only watch WWE pro wrestling because I know it’s scripted.

I suppose I do need to rattle my own cage once in a while, and surprise my lady friends a little more often. That’s probably why I love the concept behind the new Axe Twist Deodorant Body Spray – it’s the first ever man-scent that actually evolves the way it smells as the night goes on. In an exclusive one-on-0ne interview that may or may not have occurred between MDJ Superstar and Alexandre Freile, a French perfumer and Axe Twist collaborator, I was told that “[it] bears a scent of fresh citrus and gradually changes to the smell of sandalwood.”

I can smell like both calamansi and sandals in one night? I exclaimed to myself. That’s even better having a library with many books, and an apartment that smells of rich mahogany! Sign me up for that stank, and some sweaty-hot monkey sex!

I found the TV commercial on YouTube. It’s very clever, like all Axe commercials are.

I’m sure you all think Axe is very plebeian. Well, MDJ Superstar hates to brag, but I actually got a flock of nubile underage Cebuana professional models to not only make eye contact with me, but actually stand within an 8-foot radius…

New Axe Twist. It gets you laid, and occasionally even paid.

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