Baby Alice

Monday morning. The inevitable question - "What did you do for Halloween?"

"Ummm. I won a Halloween photo contest." :)







Baby Alice

So here's the story: Halloween was a close second to Christmas as my favorite holiday when I was a kid. Halloween IS for children - costumes, candy, trick or treating.

It's a fun holiday, but I guess it can also be quite sad, if you have lost a child.

I was walking around taking photos in New Haven's oldest cemetery (what can I say?) and came upon this striking, and very sad, image. I don't know who had placed that scruffy, muddy teddy bear on that grave, since that child died more than a hundred years ago.






Thanks to TSD and the contest sponsor, Connaught Shaving.

Let your boat of life be light, packed with only what you need - a homely home and simple pleasures, one or two friends, worth the name, someone to love and someone to love you, a cat, a dog and a pipe or two, enough to eat and enough to wear and a little more than enough to drink; for thirst is a dangerous thing.

- Jerome Klapka Jerome

My Little Bozo

Gearing up for Halloween. The costume's homemade!!



Hamming it up for the camera




Happy Halloween!!!

Wostenholm Frameback

These razors don't come up for sale very often. After looking around for a good 6 months, I finally snagged one on ebay last week. It was in pretty good shape for a razor that's around 150 years old. I am not sure if the ebony scales were repinned, but the blade was nicely centered and tight. There was some patina and pitting - at first I was planning to just polish it with some maas, but there was a stain on the back of the blade that required some light sanding. I did not sand it too much or polish it to a mirror finish. I wanted to keep some of its "character."


Here is the ebay photo:



After:

Antique Shaving Mugs

T&V Limoges, France

I happened upon this mug at an antique dealer's last week. No, I don't collect these. I just wanted a nice old shaving mug to keep my Old Spice mug company. I have some triple milled french shaving soaps that just feel too "dainty" to throw into the Old Spice mug (which nowadays holds, what else, HBS Old Spice shave soap).

I read about it and read about it, and came across a couple of pretty interesting articles by HGTV antique hunters, the Kovels. I have excerpted them below.

Not surprisingly, there seems to be quite a few vintage shave mugs floating around on ebay. The replicas, however, outnumber the antiques in the order of several thousands to one. Tell-tale signs of a reproduction include having no signs of wear. On close inspection, the dot pattern of silk screening is also clearly evident.

This mug has worn gilding, which I actually like. It gives the mug character, and yes, it is not a fake. It was well-used by someone named "Morrison," who liked pastoral scenes. The beautiful pink and gold enamel pattern is also very eye-catching.








Personalized Shave Mug was a Barbershop Necessity

By Ralph and Terry Kovel
King Features Syndicate
Originally published 12:00 a.m., March 21, 2008
Updated 05:08 p.m., March 20, 2008

This occupational shaving mug with the picture of a horse-drawn ambulance and driver sold at a Cowan auction in Cincinnati for $22,425.

Every Victorian barbershop had a rack filled with shaving mugs that belonged to regular customers. And most customers had a personalized mug with a name and often a special picture showing the owner's job.

Shaving was different in those days. No electric razors -- just shaving soap, a brush and a safety razor. Because shaving was difficult and small cuts often got infected, men went to the barber several times a week for a shave.

First the barber softened the skin and hair with a hot, wet towel on the face. Then the barber would get the customer's special shaving mug, rub the soap with a wet brush and lather the customer's face. Then the barber carefully shaved off the softened beard and soap foam with a straight razor.

The occupations pictured on mugs ranged from policeman or mail-truck driver to dentist, house painter, gymnast, plumber, undertaker or even ambulance driver. Most of the mugs were made in Germany from the 1860s to the 1920s. Unusual examples sell for thousands of dollars.

A Red Cross ambulance driver named McNultie would have been surprised to see his mug picturing a horse-drawn ambulance sell for more than $22,000.

ANTIQUES AND COLLECTING RALPH AND TERRY KOVEL
Mugs for shaving have appreciated at fast clip

January 9, 2005

Old-time barbershops featured an elaborate, adjustable barber's chair, bottles of shampoo or dandruff cure, bowls for powder, razors and decorated shaving mugs.

Men of means would go to the barbershop for a shave each day. But they faced the problem of contracting "barber's itch," a skin disease properly called folliculitis in which the hair follicles become infected, red and painful.

Shaving, because it might cut the skin, makes the infection possible. So barbers kept a mug, brush and bar of soap for each customer. The mug was identified by a special symbol or picture and the client's name.

A personal shaving mug was often also used at home. Collectors have been interested in occupational mugs since the 1930s. Mugs can picture a train conductor, butcher, undertaker, banker or any other occupation suited to the client. The more unusual the occupation, the more valuable the shaving mug is today.

My RW's

When I was starting out with wetshaving, famed custom razormaker Robert Williams was nice enough to invite me over to look at a razor. I was looking for a wide razor that would be an excellent shaver. That afternoon, I came home with Robert's own personal razor, a 7/8 full hollow high-carbon steel short (2 1/2") blade in a set of Chandler cocobolo scales, with the admonission "I am sure THIS is a fine shaver."





The razor was intimidatingly sharp. As a newbie, I was more comfortable with a smaller 5/8 roundtip razor, the most commonly recommended starter razor. It was not after several months of daily shaving did I become adroit and confident enough to use Robert's razor, and see what it is capable of. To this day, it is one of my top shavers.

Fast forward to the present. I contacted Robert and thought it was time to try out another RW special, this time in a stiffer grind. Yesterday, I visited Robert and his wife again. He had another beauty waiting for me. An 8/8 quarter grind barber's notch. The razor has a deep jimped thumb notch and a humpback, all set in maroon linen micarta scales. Robert uses excellent high-carbon steel (I am not a fan of stainless), and his razors take AND hold an excellent edge "moreso than any vintage razor," he finds. My limited experience agrees with his statement.

Anachronism

Fountain pens and ink, not blackberry.
Vintage cameras and B&W film photography in the digital age.
Handwound mechanical watches in today's throwaway world.

The newest of my anachronistic hobbies is also the oldest. Try shaving with a one, or even two hundred year old straight razor. It will give you the closest shave you have ever had.

But not before giving you the worst shave of your life. Straight shaving has a long and steep learning curve. It took a couple of months before I started to get really good shaves. Now, this is all I use.

Why do I do it? Lots of reasons.

The obvious - it beats shaving any other way hands down it terms of closeness. Twelve hours later and still not a single stubble.

The relaxation - Thirty to forty minutes at the end of each day, I am focused 100% on the task at hand. Nothing else. No worries, no "to do's," no problems, no regrets. Nothing. There is something about dragging an implement sharp enough to slice just the tip off a single armhair across your face that lends itself to intense concentration.

The cool factor - Not many people can do it. That's why people had their shaves in the barbershop back in the day.

The romance - I shaved with a 200 year old John Barber english razor the other day. It has been completely restored to probably better than new. I couldn't help thinking of whose beards this razor has shaved over the last two centuries.

The tinkering - Buying a Boker Red Injun with excellent Solingen steel on ebay for $3. Then sanding the years of stains and light corrosion (no, don't go buying a rusty razor, that probably is a lost cause) and bringing the fresh steel to the surface. Polishing it to a mirror shine. Honing the steel on a succession of natural Belgian hones until it is sharp enough (now that has an even longer learning curve!) to split a standing hairstrand in two. Then giving it a light coat of oil before tucking it away, it's life renewed for another hundred years. Pretty cool.

The excitement - C'mon, how often is it that you can turn a boring daily routine into something you actually look forward to?

The danger - C'mon, how often is it that you can turn a boring daily routine into something where you can easily lop off a body part with the slightest mistake?

The fulfillment - of learning a craft. A long-lost skill. Mastery... that is another thing.

The list - well, it was on MY list of things to do in this lifetime.

The toys - a boy's gotta have them.

The independence - from overpriced cartridge razors and big business. Look at it this way... if I were alone in a post-apocalyptic New York overrun by zombies (or LA with vampires, if you read the book) with no electricity, I'd be clean shaven. You know I just had to tie this in to today right - have a safe and happy 4th!

Of Secrets and Rituals

Almost 30 years ago, I learned how to shave with my father's old Gillette safety razor. One of those cool things that open like a butterfly when you twisted the handle. It used those sharp, paper-thin double edge razor blades, like you still find at the local Walmart. That thing was not very forgiving of poor technique, and I quickly learned how to shave well. Everyday I shaved my almost non-existent facial hair. I couldn't wait to have a full, thick beard. Balbas sarado, it was called.

Fast forward a couple of decades... shaving has become a dreadful chore. My youthful enthusiasm had paid off - by 5pm, my face is dark and scratchy with stubble. Still, I find every excuse to shave only every other day unless I absolutely have to.

My instrument of choice went along with the times. Cheap plastic disposable razors that invariably chewed up my neck. A brief foray with electric shavers that left unsatisfying patches of stubble on my face. Cartridge razors with umpteen blades. Many, many cans of Barbasol later, dragging a Mach 3 or Fusion across my face had become as enjoyable as taking out the garbage.

And it was expensive. An 8-pack of the five bladed Gillette Fusion costs $25 and change. Gillette has become all about hype. I would change the cartridge after several weeks, even months (if I shaved every other day) just because it was too f***ing expensive.

Some time back, I was googling for online sources of razor blades, and stumbled upon this article. Wetshaving? Heck, that's the only shaving I know. So I read some more, and even watched some (excellent) YouTube videos. I explored the forums linked on the articles, like Badger & Blade. Lo and behold, I never realized there actually existed an entire subculture on "wetshaving." Not to mention literally hundreds of products beyond what you see on the local drugstore's shelves.

So now, here I am, shaving with a vintage Gillette Superspeed razor made in 1948. I have a hundred incredibly sharp Israeli blades bought for $10. Changing my blades twice a week, that should last me for a year! I'm slathering my face with relaxing, warm, pretty smelling English shaving cream lather with a soft best badger brush. Mmmm... what should I try tomorrow?

Preshave cream. Aftershave milks and balms. Moisturizers, shea butter, and hydrosols. I find myself in unfamiliar surroundings - Crabtree & Evelyn, Bath & Body Works. The women look at me like I had uncovered a well kept feminine secret. My wife likes how my face feels and smells.

The chore has become one of the highlights of my day. It has become a peaceful 30 minutes of personal time. You forget everything and think only of the job at hand (let your focus lapse and you WILL get a bloody awakening). Quiet alone time. Warmth. Relaxing aromatherapy. Ever wonder why many men who (still) get a barbershop shave fall asleep on the barber's chair (I do!)?

Finding joy in something mundane and routine: the definition of "Stop and smell the roses."

One day, a few years from now, I will let my son in on the secret... of one of the last remaining rituals of men.

Dante's Inferno

Cloudy, smelly smoking lounge at Dulles International, like a scene from Dante's Inferno