Call them fungus faces, beardo weirdos, or what you will. William
Shakespeare had one. Brad Pitt’s got one. And now almost the whole of
WCRS - poor lambs - has been stricken with the Dreaded Goatee.
It would be kind to say that 15 of the agency’s souls went to bed as
normal and woke up with the affliction. But the Diary feels bound to
reveal that all the players in this ditty did it of their own volition.
Yes folks, into their sad lives came the WCRS 1996 Goatee Challenge, and
out rolled the last vestiges of honour, decency and hirsute standards.
And all because someone (sorry, Gary) looked such a berk with his new
beard that they all wanted to have a go.
Each courageous entrant had two weeks to do his best for the cause,
armed only with endogenous supplies of testosterone and the most
flagrant cheating the Diary has ever seen. First prize in this
department went to the managing director, Stephen Woodford, who sported
a Father Christmas falsie throughout the whole affair, claiming his wife
made him shave the real one off because he looked an idiot. Who are we
Anyway, a glittering, drink-sodden evening ensued, during which a whole
host of people got a whole load of rather silly awards. The senior
planner, Charles Vallence, picked up the prestigious Desperate to be a
Creative bronze arrow for his impressively arty growth (and for wanting
to write all his own scripts). Not far behind was Mark Bernard’s (is it
art or is it advertising?) facial arrangement, which scooped him the
Ultimate Smoothie accolade (a comb).
Simon Toaldo won a beautiful Ultimate Narcissism tiara, and Dan Vivian
the Big Bush (But Looks too Much like Dave Hasselhoff) award. Don’t even
ask. The Diary didn’t.