It was during the Covid lockdown when I began to question why on earth I was shaving when I wasn’t going anywhere other than along the river path in the early morning and late at night. I’d had a beard for most of my life but ten years before had been encouraged by my girlfriend at the time to get rid of it. Fair enough.
I could go on about the various fashions for the moustache and the reasons for them and the people who had them but there would be no point as there is only really one moustache that has counted since 1920 when it appeared for the first time in The Mysterious Affair at Styles.
At this time, Hercule Poirot was a refugee, newly arrived from Belgium and nearly penniless, so had not much money to create his incredible moustache. Indeed, it was described as ‘very stiff and military.’
“I assure you, I am really a very humble person.”
I laughed.
“You– humble!”
“It is so. Except– I confess it– that I am a little proud of my moustaches. Nowhere in London have I observed anything to compare with them.”
“You are quite safe,” I said dryly, “you won’t.”
- Lord Edgware Dies 1933
While the Lovely Young Thing made a suitable reply, Poirot allowed himself a good study of the hirsute adornment on Mr. Shaitana’s upper lip.
What was even more humiliating was that he had no real ideas, even now, as to what had actually happened. It was ignominious. And tomorrow he must return to London defeated. His ego was seriously deflated– even his moustaches drooped.
The more Poirot became an established private detective, the bigger his trademark moustache became. By the early 1930s his famous facial hair had evolved from being stiff and military into a magnificent, luxurious asset which gained much comment from himself, narrators and other characters within each story. Throughout Christie’s stories, his moustache was described as ‘gigantic’, ‘immense’ and ‘amazing’, pointing to the importance of this physical asset. By 1934 Poirot himself was described as ‘a little man with enormous moustaches’ in Murder on the Orient Express. By this point and beyond it was clearly his greatest physical attribute, being described as ‘an immense moustache’ in The Labours of Hercules in 1947.
Anyway, I decided to let it grow again as shaving is/was a nuisance. What I’m trying to say is do one thing or the other but growing a moustache is completely bonkers. You have the inconvenience of shaving but still need to control what’s left.
But from the records we can see that moustaches have been fashionable from way back to the Ancient Egypt old kingdom era 2649–2130 BCE.
One of the earliest documents of the usage of moustaches can be traced to Iron Age Celts. According to Diodorus Siculus, a Greek historian wrote that: ‘.... the nobles shave their cheeks but they let the moustache grow until it covers the mouth.’
In early medieval art the Sutton Hoo helmet, an elaborately decorated helmet sporting a faceplate depicts the style on its upper lip.
In early medieval art the Sutton Hoo helmet, an elaborately decorated helmet sporting a faceplate depicts the style on its upper lip.
At this time, Hercule Poirot was a refugee, newly arrived from Belgium and nearly penniless, so had not much money to create his incredible moustache. Indeed, it was described as ‘very stiff and military.’
However as his fame as a detective grew so did his bank balance and by the early 1930s it had evolved from being stiff and military into a magnificent, luxurious asset which gained much comment from himself, narrators and other characters within each story. Throughout Christie’s stories, his moustache was described as ‘gigantic’, ‘immense’ and ‘amazing’, pointing to the importance of this physical asset. By 1934 Poirot himself was described as ‘a little man with enormous moustaches’ in Murder on the Orient Express.
Here are a few other references:
“If only, Hastings, you would part your hair in the middle instead of at the side! What a difference it would make to the symmetry of your appearance. And your moustache. If you must have a moustache, let it be a real moustache– a thing of beauty such as mine.”
“If only, Hastings, you would part your hair in the middle instead of at the side! What a difference it would make to the symmetry of your appearance. And your moustache. If you must have a moustache, let it be a real moustache– a thing of beauty such as mine.”
- Peril at End House 1932 (UK)
“I assure you, I am really a very humble person.”
I laughed.
“You– humble!”
“It is so. Except– I confess it– that I am a little proud of my moustaches. Nowhere in London have I observed anything to compare with them.”
“You are quite safe,” I said dryly, “you won’t.”
- Lord Edgware Dies 1933
While the Lovely Young Thing made a suitable reply, Poirot allowed himself a good study of the hirsute adornment on Mr. Shaitana’s upper lip.
A fine moustache– a very fine moustache– the only moustache in London, perhaps, that could compete with that of M. Hercule Poirot.
“But it is not so luxuriant,” he murmured to himself. “No, decidedly it is inferior in every respect. Tout de meme, it catches the eye.”
-Cards on the Table
What was even more humiliating was that he had no real ideas, even now, as to what had actually happened. It was ignominious. And tomorrow he must return to London defeated. His ego was seriously deflated– even his moustaches drooped.
-Dead Man’s Folly
“There’s no doubt at all about what the man’s profession has been. He’s a retired hairdresser. Look at that moustache of his.”
“There’s no doubt at all about what the man’s profession has been. He’s a retired hairdresser. Look at that moustache of his.”
- The Murder of Roger Ackroyd
One of the benefits of becoming a famous detective was that with every case, Poirot became more affluent. As the years went by, Poirot earnt a large fortune from his detective work; which he invested a significant portion into the care and maintenance of his favourite personal feature. In The ABC Murders, Poirot reveals that he frequently visits an expensive hairdresser and in Murder on the Orient Express we learn that he uses a little pair of curling tongs on his moustache to give it the ‘upward-curled’ shape. Poirot’s groomed moustache leads Dr. Sheppard to assume that he’s a retired hairdresser, exclaiming “look at that moustache of his” to his sister.
One of the benefits of becoming a famous detective was that with every case, Poirot became more affluent. As the years went by, Poirot earnt a large fortune from his detective work; which he invested a significant portion into the care and maintenance of his favourite personal feature. In The ABC Murders, Poirot reveals that he frequently visits an expensive hairdresser and in Murder on the Orient Express we learn that he uses a little pair of curling tongs on his moustache to give it the ‘upward-curled’ shape. Poirot’s groomed moustache leads Dr. Sheppard to assume that he’s a retired hairdresser, exclaiming “look at that moustache of his” to his sister.
Poirot’s moustache is his trademark. It’s often the first thing people notice about him, and it’s his pride and joy. Poirot takes great care with his appearance from the tip of his shoes to the top of his egg-shaped head, and his moustache is no exception. He believes he has both the finest moustache and the finest brain in Britain – a claim many of his fans around the world would no doubt agree with. Throughout the six decades that his mysteries were documented by Agatha Christie, Poirot’s moustache was described in a number of ways, and was often the focus defining his appearance…
“A little man with enormous moustaches”
– Murder on the Orient Express
The more Poirot became an established private detective, the bigger his trademark moustache became. By the early 1930s his famous facial hair had evolved from being stiff and military into a magnificent, luxurious asset which gained much comment from himself, narrators and other characters within each story. Throughout Christie’s stories, his moustache was described as ‘gigantic’, ‘immense’ and ‘amazing’, pointing to the importance of this physical asset. By 1934 Poirot himself was described as ‘a little man with enormous moustaches’ in Murder on the Orient Express. By this point and beyond it was clearly his greatest physical attribute, being described as ‘an immense moustache’ in The Labours of Hercules in 1947.
I had to use a few little grey cells myself to get a poem about moustaches. I couldn’t find any decent poems so decided to choose poets with a moustache and it came to a choice between Rudyard Kipling and Edgar Allan Poe. I’ve gone with Kipling as my friend C showed me his house in Rottingdean and the poem was written there as part of An Almanac of Twelve Sports. Each month has its own sport and poem. July is about Archery (apparently).
The child of the Nineties considers with laughter
The maid whom his Sire in the Sixties ran after,
While careering himself in pursuit of a girl whom
The Twenties will dub a "last century heir-loom.”
The child of the Nineties considers with laughter
The maid whom his Sire in the Sixties ran after,
While careering himself in pursuit of a girl whom
The Twenties will dub a "last century heir-loom.”
Thanks for reading, Terry Q.