Oh, to Be Just Another Bearded Face NOT since Walt Whitman edited The Brooklyn Daily Eagle has the borough's beard-to-man ratio been this high. Whether it's the artisanal food movement, which has young men looking like turn-of-the-last-century farmers, or the heritage fashion look, which has them dressing like they're on a deer hunt, the common signifier is a mountain-man beard. Soon men won't be allowed into the Brooklyn Flea or on the L train without at least three days" stubble. So imagine my frustration in living in this land of urban Grizzly Adamses, unable to grow a beard. My beard envy isn't new, but lately it's become a full-fledged itch as I encounter bearded men everywhere from my backyard to the wider culture. Hollywood is full of designer stubble (see: Ryan Gosling, Jake Gyllenhaal). The fashion world has embraced the hirsute look, too. Do designers think guys with beards have more fun (the male follicle version of blondes, perhaps)? Tom Bull, a 22-year-old model, was on the cover of Ralph Lauren's look book for the Purple Label this spring with a full chestnut thatch. Since growing the beard last January, Mr. Bull said he has booked more jobs and with higher-end labels like Armani and Brioni. "The money jobs come to you when you have the beard," he said. You look older. That was certainly the case at the Ralph Lauren casting. "On the spot they said: "Yes, we love him for Purple Label. Don't shave the beard." " Thankfully, there is no beard premium in journalism. Still, what if I want to switch professions and become a major-league relief pitcher? What if I had been born Amish? I would be cast out. At 35, I can grow a decent goatee and mustache, both recent developments, but my cheeks are so prepubescent smooth, with nary a whisker pushing up, that a full beard is impossible. Apparently, I'm not the only one. I mentioned my frustration to Steven Wilson, who runs Beards.org, a Web site created to "increase awareness, appreciation and understanding of the beard." He's heard the story many times. As Mr. Wilson explained to me in an e-mail, many men who suffer from this "terribly profound personal problem" are "extremely distressed" by their lack of beard-growing capability. They experience "pain and suffering" and "face ridicule" from their bearded friends. They can even be "intimidated by the sight of someone with a great beard." Wait a minute. Are we still talking about beards and not another symbol of male virility? I have never felt tortured by my inability to grow a beard, and it hasn't undermined my sense of manhood, either. Until, maybe now. For me it's a style matter: I can't rock fat sideburns like Neil Young circa 1972, or pair a suit with a greasy biker beard, as Joaquin Phoenix did to sublime effect a few years ago. Back in my early 20s, I once contemplated seeking medical help to grow thicker fuzz. Seeing so many men with beards has me wondering again about a solution. Is there Rogaine for the beardless? Dr. Kenneth Beer, a dermatologist in Palm Beach, Fla., said the medical options are limited. The reasons for poor facial-hair growth vary, he said, but can be because of a lack of sensitivity to testosterone, which turns soft vellus hairs into thicker terminal hairs during puberty. If testosterone levels are low, hormones can be prescribed. And men who have patchy beards because of a skin disease like alopecia areata can take medications. "But if there's no medical reason," Dr. Beer said, "it's just genetics." A second opinion from Dr. Joel M. Gelfand, an associate professor of dermatology and epidemiology at the University of Pennsylvania, was no different. Medical researchers - or, for that matter, pharmaceutical companies looking for the next blockbuster drug - haven't focused on products that grow facial hair, Dr. Gelfand said. Drugs like Rogaine and Propecia grow hair on the top of the head, while Latisse works on eyelashes, but their effects on a man's face have not been studied. Steven Kurutz is a staff writer for the Home section of The New York Times.