As the late, great American comedian George Carlin once quipped: "See my beard? Ain't it weird? Don't be skeered ... Just a beard!"

As the late, great American comedian George Carlin once quipped: "See my beard? Ain't it weird? Don't be skeered ... Just a beard!"

And in celebration of hirsute chins everywhere, this week has been declared National Beard Week. The tongue in (hairy) cheek event was established to encourage a greater acceptance of beard wearers.

Fuzzy-faced gents are never far from the public gaze, whether it be the dashing George Clooney sporting a well-trimmed salt and pepper beard or the out-of-control crow's nest which sits on Joaquin Phoenix's fizzog.

There is no shortage of men who wear a beard so well, they almost seem destined to sprout facial hair. Our own Sean Connery and Billy Connolly seem somehow naked without one.

Even Hollywood stars like Brad Pitt and Leonardo DiCaprio have been known to forsake the razor.

With A-list celebrity endorsement, there is evidence that a growing number of men are ditching the clean-shaven look. There's even a Facebook group set up to encourage beard growth.

Unfortunately, for every Steve McQueen circa 1978, Johnny Depp or George Clooney, there's a Noel Edmonds, Alan Sugar or Richard Branson.

Then there are the serious beardies - the Brian Blesseds and ZZ Tops of this world; men who have dived chin-first into the deep end of the hirsute pool.

Personally, my gallus goatee makes me look like a cross between Vincent Van Gogh and David Brent.

It's an easy option, too. It means I can lie in bed for an extra five minutes every morning - even if some folk do mistake me for a history teacher!

National Beard Week is the brainchild of the superbly-named Beard Liberation Front, an informal network of beard wearers which campaigns against beardism.

Beardism, or pogonophobia to give it its proper name, is the irrational prejudice against those with facial hair. According to Keith Flett of the BLF, beardism is alive and well. He said: "In UK employment law its quite legal to sack someone with a beard."

So why the prejudice? It's the idea, says Keith, that there's something sinister about wanting to change your appearance. "What are you hiding?" he says.

Just a double chin and an embarrassing pimple. Honest.

PERSONAL VIEW

By Susan Swarbrick I'VE never understood why beards get such a bad rap. Sure there's a few bad apples who spoil the whole bunch: Seth Rogen, Richard Branson, Grizzly Adams, Saddam Hussein... but rather than spurn those who like to sport a spot of rugged facial hair, we should embracing them. Playing host to a face carpet doesn't necessarily equal lumberjack, wizened hermit or crusty sea captain. Beards are hip, sexy and I can't get enough of them. I'd far rather cuddle up to someone with a beard or even a spot of designer stubble than a clean shaven chap (the same sentiment goes for chest hair). Wearing a beard says: I fly in the face of convention'. It's far more of a statement than reaching for a razor will ever be. Before you ditch that shaving kit, though, let's just set a few ground rules: if you grow a beard and it looks patchy, it has to go. This isn't a question of your manliness. Not even Sean Connery could pull off looking like a mangy cat is stuck to his face. Full beards, stubble and goatees are good. Garibaldis, mutton chops and chinstraps are not. Likewise it's a veto on having a beard so long it can get trapped in the wheels of passing bicycles. A smattering of grey is distinguished. Allowing last night's dinner to get tangled in your facial tresses is not. Bearded ladies? Perhaps a whisker too far. That would bring on a bout of pogonophobia - the fear of beards - in even the most passionate facial hair fan. Think John Lennon circa 1969 and you won't go far wrong.