'stache #34 - burrito moustache

For a truly mysterious 'stache with a south of the border flair, look no further than the burrito moustache. For centuries, the young and old have delighted in guessing the content of this 'stache, which historically could range from simple seasoned rice to all manner of pricy exotics. Indeed, burritostach guessing reached its peak in popularity in the 1940s, when no fewer than 35 burrito moustache mystery clubs could be found in the Mexico City phonebook. While x-ray technologies and flimsier burrito wrappers largely ended the craze, the burrito 'stache remains fun and mysterious.

For instance, can you guess the contents of the burritos pictured below? Chicken? Perhaps beef?

Sorry, friend. It’s halibut with mango salsa. You owe me 2 dollars.

Being relatively heavy, the burrito moustache is rarely worn outside of the home.

'stache #33 - french fry moustache

Perhaps the most variable of the all the tuber 'staches, the french fry moustache ranges from limp and oil-soaked to twice-fried crisp. Popularized during the War Between the States when the then-stylish potato moustache became simply too decadent for such trying circumstances, crafty southern soldiers were able to make upwards of 30 individuals moustaches out of what once would have been a single lipstripe. While the frying made for an exceptionally delicious 'stache, it was originally intended as a means to ward off insects, mosquitoes and horseflies notoriously repelled by fried starches.

Upon returning to their often devastated southern communities post war, the downtrodden southern soldier was often heartened to find much of the town wearing the 'stache in support of their brave boys. To this day, many south of the Mason-Dixon Line view the fry 'stache as a form of quiet rebellion.

The french fry moustache remains such a loaded symbol, we are hesitant to advise on its suitability for wearing.

'stache #32 - green pepper moustache

A true Depression-era 'stache, the green pepper was the only moustache to emerge from the reign of the sloppy, gin-soaked lime moustache days of Prohibition. The green pepper -- thin, hungry, watered down, but crisp and robust -- was seen 'stached everywhere from the bread lines in New York City to the Deep South tenant cotton farmers. In the outtakes of James Agee and Walker Evans' heady tome, there are several Evans portraits of Floyd Burroughs donning the green pepper moustache with a middle finger raised. Agee's caption simply reads, "New Deal, my ass. Eat my 'stache, Frank."

The green pepper moustache should not be worn.

'stache #31 - avocado moustache

In the 1960s, when young Californian men began hauling their surfboards south in search of the most killingest waves in the world, Belize was still under Guatemalan rule. En route to "hang ten", these gentlemen of the North often found enjoyable nights filled with cheap, delicious beer and voluptuous women in Antigua. Though the women giggled at their white skin and funny talk, they often complained about the lack of bigote, or lipcover. So, the Californians, acting as Californians are wont to act, quickly 'stached slices of avocado. The avocadostache, not to be confused with guacstache, has sustained as much notoriety as the Beach Boys; sometimes one might catch an occasional 'staching by a Patagonia employee.

The avocado moustache, like white linen, should be worn in tropical and semi-tropical climates only.

'stache #30 - peanut moustache

Within the bailiwick of nut ‘staches, the peanut lip stripe—-an uncouth cousin of the cashew moustache—-is a classless classic. Allegedly of gypsy origins, the peanut ‘stache made its New World debut in nineteenth-century circus tents, balancing on the painted lips of clowns and carnies. Briefly popular on the stages of the Chicago burlesque scene at the turn of the century, it is now relegated to the sidelines of sporting events and monster truck rallies. The Republican National Committee, attempting to capitalize on the peanut stache’s blue-collar appeal, unveiled the GOP mascot sporting this nutty trimming at the 1984 presidential convention.

Peanut ‘stachers are sometimes derided as “monkey nuts” or “goobers,” derogatory terms considered obscene in polite society. This moustache is worn only by men (and monkeys).

'stache #29 - takoyaki moustache

Under Emperor Hideyoshi, 16th century Japan had become a pale, colorless land. But in 1598, Tokugawa Ieyasu, who despised Jesus and blandness, took power and ushered in the country's first Cherry Blossom festival in Kyoto and relegated the small Christian population to the dingier, less colorful city of Osaka. The next spring, Jesus lovers began shrinking the Pentateuch into tiny octopus capsules, or takoyaki, that would be worn as moustaches and later unraveled to reveal His Word. Tokugawa bedded down the lippy clandestine revolution in 1616 by outlawing all fish-based moustaches, and the style was thought to be lost forever. Until General Douglas MacArthur, of Little Rock, Arkansas, attempted to revive the octopus-ball style, and Christianity, in 1947, but quickly abandoned the look, having grossly miscalculated the smell of day-old octopus.

Christianity, one should note, also failed to take root, do in large part to Japan's love of Kawaii, or cuteness. The takoyaki 'stache may be worn only on grey or rainy days. This Arkansas native stached this octopus ball at Otafuku on East 9th Street in Manhattan.

'stache #28 - apricot moustache

The healthiest of all moustaches, the dried apricot 'stache is the conflict-free diamond of haute edible lip couture. Its popularity dates back to the wheatgrass and lycopene craze of 1980s Los Angeles when it is said to have first been 'stached by David Hasselhoff in 1983 when a mere two days of sobriety abruptly ended with a vodka-tonic binge and his daughter found him on the kitchen floor covered in health food. He picked up a lone dried apricot, pressed it to his upper lip and said, "ah, come on, honey, jump in my car!" It is still popular in some circles, but up against a fresh apricot or peach, dried apricot moustache is just, well, passé. But it's possible it could enjoy a renaissance by hipsters not unlike the American Apparel ugly glasses comeback of late.

The dried apricot moustache can be worn all year but its peak season is May to August.

'stache #27 - bánh mì sandwich moustache

The Bánh Mì Sandwich Moustache was first reported in or near the southern colony Cochin China, in the 1860s when the French defeated the Vietnamese army and gained control of area. In 1859, it is said that the French colonists arrived in this land of Khmer people waving baguettes, yelling for fancy cheeses, and complaining about being so le tired. So, as a form of grassroots resistance, the Vietnamese snatched up the silly French bread and created their own, made of a combination of rice and wheat flour. Inside they stacked their roast pork, marinated for days in fish sauce, with mayonnaise, pickled carrots, daikon, cilantro, jalapeños, and cucumbers. They flaunted this moustache to disrespect the French culinary sensitivity. More Bánh Mì Sandwich Moustaches appeared in seemingly unrelated events in Gia Dinh, Bien Hoa, and Dinh Tuong until it became the formal pièce de résistance of the colonized. In the 1980s, its cultural referent as a guerrilla tactic was lost, when the moustache was exported to the United States, unsurprisingly popular among the same groups of coffeehouse liberals that greet each other with "namaste", extol the benefits of Buddhism, worship Tom Robbins, and don Tibetan prayer flags on their porches.

This moustache should be worn indoors, but is often found at drum circles, generic festivals in east coast cities, and not surprisingly, directly outside the Bánh Mì Saigon Bakery.