I had a mustache when I was 13.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
Nowadays, if you have a mustache, people look at you like you're crazy. But when I was growing up, I never saw my dad without a mustache.
I couldn't wait to grow a mustache. I stopped shaving my upper lip the day I graduated from high school.
A mustache really defines your face. My dad had a mustache when I was growing up, and I can still remember when he shaved it, he looked like a completely different person.
My mustache has become this weird iconic representation of a certain era.
The mustache - I was never happy with the fullness of it. I was a bit too young. Maybe I'll bring it back in my mid-thirties.
I can't grow a mustache. It's pretty sad if I attempt to.
Having a mustache and never smiling became a permanent component of my persona through the quaintly self-important decade of the seventies.
I've grown this mustache which saves me from having to glue on one every day in the heat.
It's usually my mom who gets on me about my facial hair. I can't grow a good mustache, so I guess it's just a neck beard. I just have trouble growing up there.
I always had the facial hair so I looked older than I was.
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