But it's worth it. Though I do like to blog-whinge, I know that my dashing/not repulsive looks are a small price to pay in the fight against prostate cancer and depression. I'm prepared to put aside my (ironically) deep-seated superficiality for the sake of a higher purpose for one month of the year.

Some people aren't. A surprisingly common reaction from dudes to an invitation to join the Movember cause and register as a 'Mo Bro' is the slight reddening of cheeks and a mumbled, "I would, but...I don't think the girlfriend would be too happy..." We have men calling us at Mo HQ apologising profusely that they can't participate this year as their "better halves" won't allow it. Indeed, many girlfriends seem vehemently opposed to having their man look anything but immaculate during Spring Carnival season. I guess it's understandable. I mean, who wants to be standing next to a man with small hairs growing out of his face as he looks ridiculous and blatantly steals attention away from your fascinator?

Your ridiculous, ridiculous fascinator?

Despite the worthwhile nature of the cause, the chance to win a Holden Ute and the jolly good fun of the Movember campaign, looking good all the time just seems to be too important to so many people that they refuse to Mo it up like a Mo-therf***er or to be seen to date a pro-Mo man.

Now, this isn't exactly groundbreaking psychology. We all care about how we look, we all like to look good and we all judge others by the way they look. From the Brownlow Medal count to the Melbourne Cup to Women's Weekly to your local gym to deb balls to beaches to hot 'n' sexy profile pics on MyFace, we all take our appearance pretty seriously. Entire industries and economies are founded on the notions that the way we look is very important, that the way we look now isn't up to scratch and that there is a way to look good and feel great in time for summer, all thanks to Maybelline and Jenny Craig.

While I'm looking forward to summer, for example, I am also experiencing an infestation of insecurities in the back of my head in regards to my fishlike skin. When you're whiter than John McCain and the wearing of singlets clearly indicates that your melanoma hasn't experienced Queensland for a long time, the prospect of half-naked sunbathing on the sand is a little intimidating. Plus I have no muscle tone whatsoever. And weird nipples. And excessive lower-back hair. And eczema. And crow's feet.

And now a moustache.

These are my insecurities and they're ones that aren't likely to go away, especially as I tend to do little to combat them other than worry about them. We all worry about such things, some more than others. Bulimia and anorexia are serious and widespread disorders amongst young Australians, while fake tan products, tanning salons, tattoo parlours and fashion magazines are always doing booming business. Women's magazines deify the (digitally) beautiful and scorn fashion mishaps with venom, while men are measured by the criteria of the coolness of tattoos, abs, chest hair and (ahem) size.

Again, this isn't exactly unique, hard-hitting social commentary. We've all either written or heard a self-righteous high school speech about body image and how shallow our culture is and how the mass media is so superficial. And, seriously, it's important to draw attention to and talk about such things.

My concern is: how are we actually going to make a change?

It just seems to me that the problem is intractable. I think it's evident that we are never going to not care about our physical appearance. I just can't imagine what that would be like. There wouldn't be enough Ugg Boots and trackie dacks in the world to cover that kind of indifference. The way we look, our desire to attract a mate and to have mates attracted to us - these are ingrained in our psyche, they're part of our evolution. Ever since we grew out of the primordial slop, we've wanted to look hot. Ja'mie King is emblematic of a basic human desire to attract attention and to be seen as eye-candy.

Even by lesbians.

No matter how many times we espouse "It's what's on the inside that counts", nobody enjoys looking bad in front of other people we like to impress. Very few people will rely on a prospective boss' ability to see beneath the fluoro in a job interview.

Take my dad. This is a man who has worn Dunlop Volleys for at least his entire life, is happy to wear the smallest shorts I've ever seen while mowing our very public lawns and who quite happily commutes to and from the shower in red jocks and socks on a regular basis. My dad rations clothes; I can't buy any garment nowadays without him sarcastically commenting, "Oh yeah, that's something you need - another T-shirt."

He doesn't say "NOT!", but you can tell he's thinking it.

Now, regardless of how stomach-achingly embarrassed I used to become due to this behaviour, I did always have a kind of begrudging respect for his complete disregard for society's conventions and expectations. You have to give him credit; I've never seen the guy without his beard and he refuses to wear any kind of polo shirt whatsoever. The man's clearly a gangsta who don't play by nobody's rules.

But even Daddy isn't completely immune from fashion standards. When dressing up, he'll go for the tucked-in shirt, the tie and the shiny shoes. He is deeply concerned about any element of tie showing underneath my collar and will make a point of trying to fix it. Repeatedly.

I suppose what Dad has is perspective. As long as we can keep the importance of our appearance in perspective, we shouldn't go too far wrong. Enjoying making an effort when going out with friends or going to a wedding or a special event, or trying new and interesting combinations and fashions; these are clearly healthy, fun pastimes we can all appreciate.

But starving yourself in order to look good ain't cool, and neither is forbidding your very keen partner from participating in a worthy, joyful charity campaign just because you're concerned he might look a little dodgy in the face for a few weeks.

I hope you have a very happy Movember.

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You can find out more about Movember here.

To donate to Tom's awful, awful Mo and support the Prostate Cancer Foundation of Australia and beyondblue: the national depression initiative click here.