I hope I'm man enough to grow a silly moustache

Today is the fourth day of Movember. For one month, the top lips of a quarter of a million Mo Bros worldwide are sprouting moustaches of every shape and colour to raise awareness and funds to fight male cancers. Last year in the UK alone, £5m was raised. This year, despite never having sported so much as a sideburn, I am getting in on the action: by sheer force of will, I am going to grow a moustache. I visit the website , create my Mo Space profile and set about choosing a style. There are plenty, from the pencil-thin "After Eight", which sits just above the lip, to the "Undercover Brother", a bushy number that spills over on either side of the mouth. In my case the nondescript line of fluff seems the most likely, but I decide to be a little more adventurous and opt for for the Professor Lupin – a two-parter, shaved over the filtrum, which runs from the corner of the lip to the nostril – as sported by the friendly werewolf in the Harry Potter films. It is small enough for even my testosterone-challenged top lip to churn out but elaborate enough, I hope, to earn me the respect of my fellow Mo Bros. More importantly, it's daft enough to be worth giving a few quid to charity for, which is, after all, why we're doing this. That – and to prove we have actually hit puberty.