Shaving without Cutting My Throat, Part One

So as I mentioned before, I'm exploring the look and style of things old. Not just dressing like Mad Men, but finding things in my life that need a little more care and attention. And ironically, that started with my beard (or general lack thereof).

This all started with a digital obsession of mine, podcasts. I love these things - little tidbits of talk radio produced in basements and home offices rather than corporate studios. And one of the new ones in my rotation is Put This On, a fashion video series by Jesse Thorn and Adam Lisagor. Basically, they're trying to teach men of today what we should have already learned: how to dress like a gentleman. Although they've only done a few shows (five at the time of writing), it seems that every one makes me want to spend money, be it on raw denim, tweed jackets, or cordovan shoes.

Episode four took on the timeworn trial of grooming. Now grooming has never been a "problem" - I shower like the rest of of my kin. But ever since those charming grooming films in elementary school, it seems like personal hygiene is a chore rather than a pleasure. The basic idea was to bull through it, completely but quickly, and get to the coffee pot as soon as possible.

Mr. Thorn dedicated much of the above episode to wet shaving with a safety razor. You know, those odd razors that unscrew or butterfly open? The one in your grandfather's kit that you were forbidden to touch, lest you cut yourself on the double-sided blades? Yeah, that widow maker. Seems like before miles of tape (or gigabytes of disk) were recorded in ads for the newest nine-blade, vibrating, self-lathering disposable, men had to actually put blades into a metal holder and
slice the whiskers without slicing the veins. And don't get me started on the shaving soaps that don't come in cans!

Here's the rub: Mr. Thorn seemed to be enjoying shaving. I mean, like it was fun versus a chore. And as he extolled his shaving technique, I realized I hated shaving. I mean, HATED it. Expensive cartridges, razor burn, wasteful, painful, blah blah blah. Who looked forward to shaving? Yet Mr. Thorn seemed happy enough!

So I ponied up to try it out. First of all, I was very disappointed in my local drug store (I'm looking at you, Rite-Aid). Men have shaved with a safety razor and a brush for over one hundred years. So the number of razors I found? Zero. Number of shaving brushes?. Zero. A few cheap blades and a chintzy brush/soap combos were the best my local apothecaries had to offer. It's as if Gillette paid big bills to put that Fusion display on the end cap, and competition be damned. (Pause for dramatic effect.)

Luckily there is Amazon, and I recommend starting there. Anyone embarking on wet shaving needs a minimum of four things: safety razor, blades, brush, and shaving cream/soap. Here's what I went with...

• Razor: I went with a classic Edwin Jagaer Chrome. Lots of people (via shaving enthusiast sites) recommended either vintage or Mekur versions, but I liked that the Jagaer was described as "forgiving."
• Brush: I went with the cheap Tweezerman version from Amazon. It was a good price while assuring the buyer as being made from Badger hair (which the aforementioned hobby-ests assert is essential).
• Shaving Cream/Soap: Splurged a bit here and went with the "avocado" flavor of shaving cream from Old Taylor of Bond Street (again, thank you Amazon). In a past life I had tried a cheap shaving soap; I found it thin and watery (though I know assume this is from my inexperience). Whether the fault lay in the soap or myself, it was an unpleasant, painful experience. This tine I wasn't taking chances, and accordingly invested in a recommended cream.
• Blades: Admittedly, I paid the least attention to the blades I chose - the Shark blades came in a package with the Jagaer razor.

Next post, the (bloody?) result of my experiment...