Have you ever heard a woman talking about her dream guy – tall, dark, handsome and moustache-clad?

Does any woman dream of peering up the aisle in a packed church to see their future husband smiling back at them with a walrus moustache?

No.

But this wasn’t always the case. There was a time when anyone who was anyone would sport a dashing lip rug. From despots like Stalin and Hitler, to intellectuals like Nietzsche (who had a truly superb one), or Einstein, the moustache was the facial accessory of choice for the elite.

The British political establishment was no exception. The period between 1900 and1960 represented a truly golden age for the moustache in British politics. Balfour, Campbell-Bannerman, Lloyd George, Bonar Law, MacDonald, Chamberlain, Attlee, Eden and Macmillan all sported immaculately kept crumb-catchers. The moustache was it seemed part of the uniform of government.

Little then did Harold Macmillan know that when he left No 10 in 1963 he’d be the last moustached PM of the 20th century.

And since the 1960s, the moustache has evolved from a symbol of authority and power to an object of mirth.  

Moustaches are now the preserve of comic characters and loveable anti-heroes like Borat, Ron Burgundy and Ned Flanders. And let’s face it - moustaches are funny. In fact, I can’t think of any comedic character that couldn’t be improved with the addition of a tache.  

So passé is the moustache that it is now worn by only two categories of people: achingly trendy Shoreditch types who use their downy hair growth as a tool of self expression, and older men who have entirely given up on attracting the opposite sex.

Unfortunately, just like Hitler ruined ‘the toothbrush’ for everyone, these two groups (themselves figures of ridicule) have continued to undermine the moustache’s reputation through association.

It’s this derision that Movember have tapped into so well. For those of you who don’t know, Movember is a charity that raises awareness and cash for sufferers of prostate and testicular cancer.

Men are encouraged to grow their finest soup strainers for the month of November. By the 30th, a significant minority of men across the country will look like their grandfathers, awkward sex pests or Tom Selleck (perhaps all three).

Last year a series of MPs signed up to Movember including John Leech, John Healey and Tom Brake, but so far this year none of the really big guns have put their names down. Serious politicians need to be taken seriously and you can’t do that with a load of bristles draped under your nose (or so is the perceived wisdom).

But they can if they all commit to it. Just like the oddly nullifying affect of nuclear proliferation, if all the party leaders were to grow a tache (for charity remember), it would be difficult for any party to make political capital out of it.

And for the public? Well, yeah, we’d probably take them less seriously. But we like politicians who don’t take themselves too seriously. It’s commonly accepted that one of Gordon Brown’s chief flaws was that he was unable to laugh at himself.

I would be willing to bet that the prospect of Ed Miliband attempting to grow a moustache would prise a fiver out of a wallet or two. Equally an attempt at a delicate pencil moustache from Cameron in an ironic nod to his own aristocratic routes would surely raise a few quid?

And the best thing is there’s no additional effort. No hospital to visit, no meetings to attend. In fact, if anything, growing a moustache will save them time (no need to shave that cumbersome top lip), gifting them valuable seconds to focus on job creation or welfare reform.

So in the spirit of British political tradition, and for the thousands of men and families affected by prostate and testicular cancer in the UK, it’s time for our political leaders to swallow their pride and grow a moustache.

They’ll look faintly ridiculous, but that’s kind of the point.

If you want to know more about Movember, visit their website: uk.movember.com

Tags: Facial Hair, Moustache, Movember