Going bald was always a foregone conclusion for me. From a young age, I was aware that I had inherited most of my physical traits from my maternal family. Whereas my father's side was blessed with voluminous mops of thick, black hair and olive skin, all three of my mother's brothers and my grandfather were (and obviously still are) bald as coots.
With brand new men's blogs popping up seemingly by the week, it can be difficult to decide which ones to follow. We've waded through a sea of posts to bring you the best for the Summer of 2017.
Men are expressing themselves more freely and there is a whole host of positive messages as a consequence. However, with change, there are often repercussions - for good or bad. Unfortunately, as our country has shown over the last few weeks - we're not so good at handling it!
A man has taken to YouTube to show the devastating aftermath of an anxiety attack. Casey Throwaway, shared the video a week
The landscape for today's man is one apparently in a shift from 'metrosexual' to 'spornosexual' while at the same time being a feminist and managing the anxieties and stresses that modern life brings. Or as one of our readers succinctly put it: "A balancing act that very few achieve." So here' a (firmly tongue-in-cheek) look at where HuffPost Men stands in the market of men's mags.
When hitting the gym it's easy to get stuck in a routine rut - you'll have the exercises you know well and, more often than
At the time of writing, I have not raised a single penny for Movember. I am simply another tache enjoying a ride on the Mo-wagon. So is my neglect of the Movember campaign causing an unforgivable disservice to men around the world?
At the tender age of 22, I am the cold recipient of 'male pattern baldness,' and I'm far, far too young to have to deal with a hairless life, too young to accept or acknowledge the suitably stereotyped 30-plus catastrophe.
One of the biggest cancers affecting men had never even entered my consciousness until a couple of Christmasses ago when I got a phone call telling me my dad was going for tests, which ended up with me going with him for his first treatment on that Christmas eve.