Bernard O'Shea: Men, stop plucking yourselves this winter
Bernard O'Shea. Photograph Moya Nolan
I'd spend hours battling them with tweezers, tiny scissors, and even one of those infernal spinning, vibrating gadgets that yank them out by the root. Imagine it: me, nose-hair warrior, with the bathroom looking like a war zone, tiny clumps of hair dusting the counter as if I were attempting avant-garde decor.
After years of this ritual, I started to ask myself: Why do we even have nose hairs? Indeed, they aren't just there to embarrass me. As it turns out, nose hairs have a far more respectable existence than I ever imagined. Far from being my personal grooming curse, they're a team of defenders standing between my lungs and the outside world.
Believe it or not, nose hairs are your body's first line of defence. Each tiny hair acts like a bouncer at the door of Club Respiratory, filtering out particles we don't want deep inside. Our lungs are delicate, and keeping foreign particles out is as essential as getting air in. It's a balance, and nose hairs are on the front lines. We even have two types: visible vibrissae (the long ones) and microscopic cilia. Vibrissae keep out the big troublemakers like dust and pollen, while cilia are the secondary line, dealing with anything that slips through.
A study in the American Journal of Respiratory and Critical Care Medicine found that people with more nose hair have a lower risk of asthma. So here I was, practically scalping myself with tweezers, and the truth is, I was opening myself up to more misery by removing what was protecting me in the first place.
Historically, nose hairs have had a mixed reputation. In ancient Egypt, they were seen as hygiene offenders, with Egyptians going to great lengths to remove them. But by the Renaissance, nose hairs were necessary to block "bad airs." Until today, nose hair removal is a big business, with trimmers and wax kits feeding our obsession with smooth nostrils. Nose hair grooming (as I learned this week) is about balance—preserving their function while ensuring they're not putting on a show. The golden rule here is simple: Trim, don't pluck. Yank a hair out by the root, leaving an open door for bacteria, which can lead to infection or make you look like you've had a run-in with poison ivy. Trimming, however, lets you manage the situation without any painful after-effects.
This brings me to my next tip: get yourself an electric nose trimmer. It's a minor, buzzing miracle that can save your sanity and sinuses. It handles the visible hairs without disturbing the crucial ones farther in. Plus, it's fast, painless, and safe—almost everything tweezers aren't.
For a posher and far less painful approach, there's the "nose hair spa." All it takes is a steam treatment, a bowl of hot water with a towel over your head, and voilà ! The steam softens the hairs, making them easier to trim. It's a spa day for your nostrils, perfect for winter when the dry air has you feeling brittle. You'll feel like a new man, and your nose hairs will thank you for the gentler approach.
If you're genuinely fearless, there's nose waxing, though it's not for the faint of heart. Yes, it promises smooth, hair-free nostrils, but some liken the sensation to getting your nose sucked through a vacuum hose. The result? A bald-eagle effect leaves your nose feeling like an echo chamber. It's a bold choice, but hey, to each their own.
Now for the best reason to stop plucking this winter: seasonal protection. Our breath gets colder as temperatures drop and the air dries out. That dry, chilly air can irritate the sensitive skin inside our noses, but here's where nose hairs come to the rescue. By slowing down airflow, nose hairs allow cold air to warm up and retain moisture before it reaches our lungs. Without them, every winter walk would feel like inhaling from a freezer, and each breath would bring on a brain-freeze-esque sting. Our nose hairs are like personal humidifiers, keeping things warm and comfortable no matter the weather.
This winter, resist the urge to pluck. Trim what's necessary, but remember, every strand has its purpose. Nose hairs remind us that the things we see as nuisances sometimes do us a favour. So if my wife is reading this next time you daydream about discarding me (I know you do!), remember this: I'm your little nose hair! I know I'm such a romantic.

