The story of DEBONAIR, a new moustache wax

Posted on February 19, 2020 by Captain P. Fawcett

Even in silhouette, the Right Hand Man recognised his old chum by the sharply pressed crease of his tweed trousers and elegant plume of pipe smoke. Entirely at ease here at the Goodwood Revival, it was none other than Gustav Temple, proprietor and founder of The Chap, that entertaining periodical which this very year celebrates two decades of nonchalantly anarchic sartorial style.

Temple doffed his hat with customary courtesy. ‘What ho! We need to wire Fawcett immediately. It has come to my attention that modern chaps are losing the will to be louche. Indeed today’s gentleman is far too busy being busy even to cultivate interesting facial hair, which is entirely opposed to The Chap manifesto! We must create a new moustache wax to disabuse him of this nonsense at once! Are you with us?’

The Right Hand Man (an undoubtedly sound fellow despite his outlandish taste in hats) cried ‘By my buttons and Brogues I’m in!’ and radioed the Captain’s secret laboratory, delaying only for a spot of luncheon.

And so to a secret rendezvous in Brighton after many weeks of covert communications. At the end of an alley, a match flared in the gloom and the unmistakable aroma of pipe smoke was manifest. ‘We have it,’ said familiar voice in level tones, ‘Chaps must ever be Debonair and this most mellow moustache wax will be our sign.’

As the Right Hand Man handed over the cleverly coded formula he remarked upon Temple’s own upper lip which appeared roguishly smooth. ‘My dear chap,’ winked Temple, ‘any anarcho-dandy worth his devilled kidneys knows rules are only made to be broken’. And with a twirl of his umbrella he was gone.

Carry on.

Debonair is available for all Chaps now...CLICK HERE

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