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.