Get a shave, hipster.

Dear Chuck:

You’re thisclose to being crossed off my official Theoretical Boyfriend List. Would you please explain what the hell is going on with this look from the Housing Works reception last week? (Photo from a set on Gawker. I (heart) Gawker.) Are you trying to be ironic and all that stuff? What’s with that Paul Bunyan look? That facial hair is totally out of control. It’s just gross and I can only imagine how stanky it gets after a night of Pabst drinking. Please, shave! And what happened to those $1000 eyeglasses that you bought just so you could get laid, as mentioned in Killing Yourself To Live? Did you break them in a drunken stupor? And, frankly, you look a little chunky. Too much takeout from one of NYC’s many Burritovilles, perhaps?


Where’s that Midwestern farm boy I fell in love with? Sure, you don’t have to go back to standing in cornfields, but please, adopt a look that doesn’t scream ‘assistant professor’. You can achieve a balance. You have before. Now please, make an appointment with a good barber and a straight razor. And then we’ll talk.
XO,
a.j.