From: Surfer
No-nonsense. This is the beard of the carpenter. Or the Civil War re-enactor. A big, heavy handlebar ‘stache up top. Solid two-tone color scheme below: brown foundation with a blonde, wavy, often wind-lashed and salt-encrusted chin-beard section. Hipster-chic, but still grizzled as all hell. There may be a bird in there somewhere. Nearly flawless.
Photo: Burkard
A beard like this will get you set waves in NorCal all by itself. Grow this beard, paddle out to the peak anywhere you want, and at least once, you will get whistled into a screamer. Freitas already surfed better than almost everybody on the planet, but after he grew this beard, his tuberides got deeper, his trimlines grew purer, and his carves took on Richard Cram-like proportions. Just because of that beautiful beard. (*Bud's beard is no longer, due to an ultimatum from a lady friend. It will be missed.)
Photo: Ellis
Inquisitive. This is the thinking man’s beard. An artist’s beard. You will find flecks of paint, book jacket dust particles, and little bits of artisanal tea in Del Moro’s beard. This baby is perfectly at home whether sheathed in ice crystals from a frigid Scandinavian pointbreak, gently swaying to a Caribbean breeze, or cascading marvelously down the front of a wool cardigan worn to a poetry reading. Photo: Rugai
This beard looks like it should be attached to the face of man who is trying to sell you a rug in a smoke-filled Turkish bazaar. And that’s a good thing. It’s grown out into that upside-down triangular shape that just exudes exoticism. Agius has done cooler things with cooler people in cooler places than you ever have, and he’s somehow manifested all that in his beard.
Photo: Burkard
Magnificent. Dark luminescent roots framed by a silver halo that’s been bleached pure by sun and experience and LSD. The middle-aged beard that all beards aspire to. This is a beard that has seen some shit. Some real life shit. Fear. Joy. Transcendence (maybe literally). First ballot Hall of Fame.
Photo: Ellis
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