Susie O’Brien and Eddie Russell debate the pros and cons of the rise of the moustache

From Merv Hughes to Timothee Chalamet, the great Australian moustache debate rages on as Gen Z embraces what Gen X wants gone. Have your say.

Before or after? Gen X votes for no mo while Gen Z thinks each to their own.

Few fashion choices epitomise the generation gap more than the resurgence of the moustache. So for trendsetting blokes, should it be all systems mo?

Susie Says:

I say no to the Millennial mo.

Whether it’s a full-throttle Tom Selleck with a mini marsupial lounging on the lip or a barely-there Timothy Chalamet elegantly arranged individual hairs, the moustache is back.

Anyone who is old enough to remember the ‘70s firsthand is struggling to understand the appeal of bros with mos.

Moustaches are try-hard, attention-seeking and – sadly – more popular than ever.

Wearers grow them for a good cause in Movember, then keep them on for giggles over summer, then back them in by the time work goes back in mid Jan.

The moustache has a proud place in Australian sporting history thanks to famously hirsute men such as David Boon, Max Walker and Merv Hughes.

Merv Hughes was one of the OG moustache icons.

Back then, cricketers favoured Hungarian weightlifter moustaches, gold chains nestling in their luxuriant chest hair, and got someone to hold their beer while they took a catch.

Such extravagant displays of facial follicles are surely best left behind in the 1970s, along with cask wine, Marlborough Reds and muscle cars.

AFL footballers have a long history of moustaches, mostly from the era when players had nicknames like “Bones” and teams included the “Bloods”.

Rugby’s the same, with star players like Wally Lewis, Cliff Lyons and Darryl Brohman sporting the full chevron. Current rugby mo bros include Wallaby Nic White, with all teammates carpeting their upper lip in honour of his recent non-retirement.

Hardly a bare lip is visible among my Gen Z colleagues. Some are favouring the a mo-lite such as the one favoured by Goose in Top Gun, while others are mid- range like John Bertrand right through to those rocking a moustache maximus like Geelong’s Zach Tuohy’s Irish walrus.

Why are so many young people stuck on the ‘stache?

Are they needed to keep the upper lip warm? Is it a chick (or chap) magnet? A display of rugged machismo? Water cooler chat bait?

They may think they are emulating the outdoor manliness of Glen Robbins’ Russell Coight but most have all the appeal of Robbins’ Kel Knight in 80s style ath-leisure wear.

These faintly ridiculous follicles are better than a mullett, but I can’t help thinking the mo has got to go.

Susie, 54, is the national education editor

Eddie says

They say there is nothing like a mother’s love.

And in my experience, that statement is true – until you grow a moustache.

Now she can’t even look at me, and many an uncle and aunty have joined her in showing disdain and disgust for my top lip toupee.

My mo journey began in 2021, during COVID lockdowns.

A majority of the population were going through an experimental phase, and I was keen to try something new without having to awkwardly debut it in public.

The tash accompanied a shoddy mullet, which had an origin story that is eerily similar to Frankenstein’s monster – brought to life in a cold, dark room [empty garage] by a mad scientist [an aspiring yet unqualified barber after a few stubbies].

Eddie Russell before growing a moustache.

He proudly sports the facial hair while on assignment.

When the lockdown lifted, the mullet stayed. The mo did not.

However, I would revisit it years later after a burning desire to take the piss out of my mate who had tried (and failed miserably) to grow out a stache while on the classic upper-middle-class pilgrimage from Melbourne’s inner suburbs to Europe.

It was to highlight how silly he looked. It was never meant to be permanent. It was ironic.

But then it grew on me – literally and figuratively – and I couldn’t get rid of it.

I would stand in front of the mirror, razor held up to my face, but my muscles would contort and strain against the will of my brain.

It gets a lot of compliments – admittedly almost exclusively from other young blokes but that still goes a long way for self-esteem – and now I can’t imagine myself without it.

I can get my head around why my seniors at work don’t like the ‘mo’.

But for a peer group whose childhood and adolescence was littered with anti-establishment classics ranging from The Breakfast Club to Fight Club, I can’t understand why they would be so incensed by someone going against the grain.

What happened to sticking it to the man, Gen X?

Because you are the man now. But don’t forget your roots. The kids are alright.

Eddie Russell, 23, is a cadet at the Herald Sun

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Originally published as Susie O’Brien and Eddie Russell debate the pros and cons of the rise of the moustache