Mo your subject

Retouching techniques in Photoshop are quite sophisticated these days, and eliminating a bottle of Lucozade from a shot isn't considered the work of a professional any more, but it was more than this photographer could manage. Fair enough, the see saw resembles a moustache, a bit - but then why not angle the camera more precisely so that the blue frame of the see saw sits exactly in the centre of the blue house, like a real moustache would?

I think I am not alone in declaring that we are all getting a bit bored of Steampunks. I think also that this photograph, for all its faults, at least clearly demonstrates that Steampunks are simply Goths grown old. The photographer has picked an interesting subject, and there is a certain poignancy in the fact that they are clearly lost in an unfamiliar town, but he or she has relied too much on the subject delivering its message without any input from the photographer.

At first one thinks, Oh how quaint and eccentric, a man on a Penny Farthing with huge Edwardian whiskers and a pipe. Then one examines more closely and sees that the Penny Farthing, as well as the whiskers and the pipe, are fake. He's riding a modern contraption modelled loosely on a Penny Farthing; his shoes are all pointy and probably from Next; his shirt has a wing collar yet he wears a normal tie. I suspect that even the hair is fake. It makes you wonder what society is coming to when even the eccentrics are fake.

Despite stiff competition among the Asian selection, which informs us that India in particular has a far nobler moustache growing tradition than our own, this old timer wins tache down. The plumage itself is a wonderful example that has clearly been well maintained for several decades, and the photographer has captured the joyous, faraway look in the subject's eyes, which suggests he is privy to some mysterious secret of the universe to which only a man in possession of a fine set of whiskers has access.

This photograph captures the fact that a lot more work than perhaps we imagine goes into cultivating a fine moustache. Though the subject is receiving a hair cut, he will have spent just as many hours pruning and sprucing that marvellous lip weasel. The photo also captures a whole new world that has sprung into existence around the entry of the moustache into the lives of the young and fashionable. A world of tattooed barbers, rockabilly music and fancy coffees while you wait.

The attached information reveals this to be a "selfie", which is surprising, for aren't selfies usually of people staring smugly into the palms of their hands with unbearable grins? There is genuine pathos in this shot and at first I took it to be a portrait by someone else. The man has clearly been a Teddy Boy for a very long time and is only just holding on to enough hair to do the hairstyle. The hair flops forward, limp with age and faded dreams. It is a metaphor for the faded dreams of rock 'n' roll, and of the 20th century itself.

Two men in turbans in the top three might seem surprising, but there is no way on earth that this wonderful example of what is known in the competitive facial hair world as a Freestyle Moustache. The photographer has chosen a very good angle to capture what is a rather bulky object that seems to fly in all sorts of directions. According to the photographer, the two plumes emanating from the sides of the tache reach as far down as the man's feet, but it is the abundant foliage of the source of the moustache that really takes the eye.

I don't get it. Is this supposed to be modern art? A series of not particularly interesting photographs of a not particularly interesting man in front of some badly drawn graffiti that seems to be trying to promote someone's Twitter account. Rather unsuccessfully, as a cursory search reveals that the account has 49 followers. This photographer, having split his or her image into nine frames, had nine opportunities to say something interesting or be funny. They achieved neither, nine times.

Why has this photograph been submitted to a competition celebrating Movember? Because the priest at a wedding in what appears to be the Greek Orthodox Church has a beard? It isn't even a good photograph of the event, because nothing is actually happening. Everyone looks as though they are waiting around for some exciting announcement to be made, or at least ushered into a room where they can eat or drink something. It isn't even a particularly good beard either.

Every single photo I have ever seen of a human from Cuba is titled "Man with cigar in Cuba", but this one really stands out from the crowd. How is this man's splendid set of whiskers even physically possible? The sides look like an exuberant spray of foam from the sea off the coast of Havana. The enormous cigar is so obviously a part of the facial hair that he must never be without it and perhaps never lights it. The military headwear combined with hippy shirtings also sums up that uniquely peculiar island nation very well.

Aah, Gaston, what culinary delights do you have for us this evening? Please tell me there is some of that delightful Sauterne left in your cellar too? This is just the sort of chap we all hope to encounter while on holiday in the South of France, or the South of anywhere, for that matter. The simple yet evocative background is suggestive of a rural Shangri-La, and the tattered shirt collar and sun-battered visage testament to the real work that goes into making our holidays rather splendid.

A fellow strictly from the Old School, who has allowed his moustache to become as coloured as his teeth by thoroughly enjoying the ancient habit of smoking. To me, this sums up the past of Britain, when chaps like this would have been ten a penny in most pubs. Now, however, he is an anachronism and young people would probably think, "Ooh, get yourself some organic skincare products!" By cropping out the eyes and shooting at night, the photographer has managed to exclude anything extraneous to the story, which is a profound one.

This man's moustache seems to be occurring three times: once under his nose, once above his eyes and once again on his chest. The triple moustache; not an easy one to pull off. I like the way he has been photographed relaxing with a pipe in his favourite leather armchair at home. I don't know whether the yellow light was accidental, but it gives the photo an atmospheric 1970s flavour, as does the cluttered shelf unit. Out of shot there could be a woman in a nylon dress about to hand him a cut glass tumbler of whisky and soda.

I like this fellow. He has an all-round earthy Englishness that comes from sitting in the pub on most of your spare evenings. His neatly-trimmed moustache has a lived-in air, as if it's been with him for a long time. He probably has a large extended family, none of whom can ever remember him without his lip weasel. He must have known he was going to be photographed that day because his hair looks newly trimmed and styled, and his jumper looks brand new. He's almost certainly called Colin, Fred or Trevor.

I chose this photograph not so much for its composition, colour, angle etc, but because I think it beautifully captures a magnificent moustache, clearly one at competitive level, in a relaxed moment when the owner's guard is down. He probably spends a lot of time on stages in conference centres around Europe, displaying his tache to judges, whereas here he is on his way back to his flat in Belgium or somewhere, yet the facial plumage remains spectacular. His wife's expression, more than his, reveals that he may be on his way back home with a prize too.

Everyone else in the photograph appears to be wearing a vest, making this fellow extremely well-dressed by comparison. It was taken at an Italian street festival, not sure whether in Italy or among the Italian ex-pat community elsewhere. What a fine display of facial furniture! The tips of his tache disappear into this spectacles, which perhaps were chosen especially to hold the tips in place. I love the way the man's tie clip punctuates his tie in exactly the same way his moustache punctuates his face.