Mrs. Alura loved beards. She once told me that I'd never have to worry about her divorcing me if I kept mine. What stronger lobby is there? During our near thirty years together she never saw me without one.
The last time I shaved was in 1977 while on a business trip in California when a friend convinced me that beards were "passe." (He had been bearded when he lived in Germany.) By the third morning of butchering my face with a brutal instrument (called a razor) that could only have been invented by Europeans, I no longer cared about style.
None of our playmates ever complained. Of course, there might have been some who didn't play with us for that reason, but failed to say so. To any lady who might refuse to have sex with me because of my beard, I'd have to say, "Too bad, my dear. I guess we'll never experience each other."
I have to object to the term "clean shaven," unless "clean bearded," and "dirty shaven" are also possible descriptions.
Alura