Although society had been flirting with the return of the mustache for years, we'd remained unconvinced. It had become a trifle, a mockable prop—even to those sporting it.But sometimes the truth comes at you unexpected. Like maybe riding down from the rooftop bar of a fine New York hotel, after an evening of drinks, in a paneled elevator crowded with not a few beautiful women, some of us yobs from the office, and, in the middle, a single man standing tall, in a dark suit, wearing a mustache.The space grew quiet, then one of our people—the one who'd had the most to drink—started in: "The mustache. Are we okay with the mustache?" A response came without hesitation or rancor. "Oh, yes, you should try it yourself," the man with the mustache said. "It's empowering." The accent was Merseyside. He sounded like a bodhisattvan Ringo Starr.But we weren't done with him. "Really? What about maintenance?""There's less to do. You don't even think about it."Our own guy hesitated, paused, and confessed: "The truth is, I have thought about it, but don't know if I could pull it off."The man nodded. He understood. "You can. It's a declaration. Try it. Set yourself free."With that, the doors opened and he disappeared into the night. And we were believers. The serious mustache is back. -Esquire Magazine