Fausto Colombo

L'incertain regard



If I could only say that I was born with a beard! Sadly of course it was not the case. Nevertheless it seemed that a hirsute face would soon become an integral and in a sense, signature, part of my destiny. It was not long into my early adulthood that I began to cultivate and nurture whiskers. Since then they have never left my face. Back in the eighties, unlike today, the sight of a young man sporting facial hair in suburban Milan, Italy was a rather unusual occurrence to say the least. Beards were exotic, unusual and certainly not a mainstay of European male fashion accessories and thus, more often than not, looked upon with considerable suspicion. It took another two decades before many fashion-forward men in the West decided to give up shaving before I too found myself surrounded by an increasing number of furry faced contemporaries. And when the hipsters finally came on the scene, I began to wonder how long this trend might last. 

What I do know for sure, is that my beard will continue to frame my face regardless of the hip and trendy flavour of the moment. I've heard it said that beards are not unlike like breasts, the bigger they are, the longer you stare. Do you need mine? 

write me


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