I went to a Mustache Bash this last weekend, and created a whole stash of 'staches while skyping with my brother (for the first time since being here... where ya been, bro!? I've missed you!). I couldn't decide which style was most humorous. A villainous handle bar mustache, complete with soul patch? A tastefully non-PC Fu Manchu? A bushy one, fitting for any number of hairy ethnicities? Or the classic Charlie Chaplin short-stache? Oh... who am I kidding. It's a Hitler stache. Undeniably Hitler. I figured I could switch mustaches throughout the night, emulating some sort of miracle of manscaping.
Adam (my brother) told me I should definitely go with either the handlebar or the Hitler. When I got to the party, my friends were so enthusiastic about the Hitler, that my German friend Niko even cut me a new one out of far-more-convincing sticky felt (goodbye, paper stache!). All agreed, the Jewish girl sporting the Hitler stache was undeniably humorous. Ironic. Perfect for the occasion.
Wrong. Turns out, not all Europeans have the same enthusiasm for turning tragedy into comedy. I was given a good number of smiles, laughs, even a high five or two, but then I was stopped by a group of mustachioed gentlemen who were greatly offended. How could I bring the war to a party?
Excuse me?
I asked them to try to articulate why they were so offended. Looking back, I probably should have just said, jokingly, "Hitler was a great man!" and moved along, but I decided to take the opportunity to learn.
I didn’t learn much.
One Finnish guy said it was offensive (and boy was he heated!) because there are certain words you don’t use, certain acts you don’t do (wear a Hitler mustache to a mustache party?), because someone will get hurt.
I tried to explain to him, to no avail, that words and icons are only as powerful as we allow them to be. As well, to isolate something as a taboo topic actually perpetuates its harm. If the word “fuck” comes out to play only once a year, that one time carries great significance, great weight, great offense. Should you use the word daily, it loses its weighted panache. It’s just another word.
I’m an equal opportunity offender. To be constantly offensive is to eradicate the power that offensive terms or references (racial slurrs, Hitler mustaches) have.
Do we not give Hitler even more power by allowing him to ruin an entire elegant mustache style for all eternity?
I think it would be offensive if I had put a swastika on my arm and marched around the party, touting the greatness of the late man, with all sincerity. But I think that this Jewish girl was far from sporting a tributary flavor-savor. If anything, I was undermining the Fuehrer, and making a mockery of him. The more we laugh at how sick of a man he was, and how silly of a mustache he wore, the more he is made a joke of in the collective memory. All he wanted was to be feared. Screw that. I’m laughing at the man. And that’s healthy.
It looks like I’m not the only one. My Dutch friend Thomas (very much so NOT offended by the Hitler stache) showed me this site: http://www.hipsterhitler.com
See? A healthy mockery is a great way to deal with one of the world’s most evil men. Heilvetica? Heilarious.
And if we can’t laugh at Hitler, then Mel Brooks should be stoned. How dare he write a faux-musical called “Springtime for Hitler”! How dare he bring the war to Broadway!
Another guy was offended because he said he couldn’t have wore a Hitler-style fuzz to the party. My response: Why not? The more the merrier. Again, through repetition, perhaps we’ll remove the weight that tiny clump of hair has and bring back a thoroughly absurd style of facial hair! Really though, great PR move, Hitler.
A brief history of “the Toothbrush” (I had no idea it was called that… great… now we can’t use toothbrushes!), for those interested parties:
Hitler and the Toothbrush
Before the Blitz, before the Holocaust, before a patch of hair situated directly above the center of the lip became as much a symbol of evil as the devil’s horns, the mustache worn by Hitler was called the Toothbrush. While Hitler and Charlie Chaplin are its most famous wearers, the Toothbrush has a long history behind it. The ‘stache first came to Europe at the end of the 19th century on Americans, who wore it as a response to Europeans’ beloved primped and pimped Kaiser mustache. Elaborate and ornate was out, streamlined and efficient was in. In terms of personal grooming, the Toothbrush mustache was the assembly line, the steam engine, and the cotton gin all rolled into one, a revolutionary invention that would topple the old ways.
Shortly after its introduction, the Toothbrush was adopted by Hans Koeppen, a Prussian military lieutenant who was something of folk hero, and exploded into German culture. There are conflicting theories as to whether Hitler grew one then to latch onto the trend, or if he trimmed down his Kaiser during the World War I because it didn’t fit under the gas mask he had to wear in the trenches. Either way, by the time he took lead of the Nazi Party, Hitler had grown attached to the Toothbrush and when one of his underlings advised he grow it out “at least to the end of the lips,” he responded, “If it is not the fashion now, it will be later because I wear it.”
Of course, the best laid plans of mustaches and men often go awry. After WWII, the toothbrush was taboo, a hairy scarlet letter, the stylistic equivalent of shouting anti-Semitic slurs in a crowded theater. Today, the mustache belongs to Chaplin and Hitler alone. To grow it to emulate the former, though, still incites all the rage and hatred the world shares for the latter. Hitler was certainly not the only one to wear the noble little hair square, but he made the mustache, burned it into our collective consciousness, and forever ruined it for the rest of us.
My friends later pointed out how great it was that, throughout the whole heated discussion, I still had that controversial piece of felt still firmly, proudly adhered to my upper lip. It must have been like having a beer with Adolf himself. Except… wasn’t he a teetotaler?
No comments:
Post a Comment