I caught this shaving disease from some random comment (NOT EVEN A POST!) on John Scalzi's blog Whatever, and it has rapidly taken control of my central nervous system. Now, my poor poor friend in Scotland has become infected with the same dread plague....Be careful, for you may be next.
Apart from the acquisitiveness, apart from the obsession with shaving that leads me to try it twice a day, apart from the almost insane amount of attention I am paying to my skin these days, it is the intense progression of the disease that frightens me. Me, who until very recently spent 4 minutes a day with a buzzing electric beast against my face, am now taking twenty minutes with a brush, soap and mind-numbingly sharp blade to scrape away my whiskers...and just now, JUST NOW, I found myself reading a guide to straight razor shaving.
STRAIGHT RAZORS!!!! Folding KNIVES that you drag across your skin! By all that is holy, what has happened to me? And how did this new thing come to me, this new symptom of the shaving measles?
By reading the Goddamned Internet...just like YOU ARE DOING RIGHT NOW!!!
So, does anyone have a half-hollow solingen and a strop they'd like to sell me?
Showing posts with label Manhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Manhood. Show all posts
Friday, December 19, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
My Frothy Face
This post originally appeared on my other blog, A Loss for Words.
So, as you may have noticed, I flit from interest to interest, picking them up and putting them down faster than a fruitfly farts. It's a fact of life for me, and my wife is certainly learning all about it. I admit it fully, it's no secret. But sometimes, things come along and just say "I'm going to be a part of your life, ya dig?" And one of those things has come along.
Wetshaving.
Wetshaving, you say? What, pray tell, is that? It sounds vaguely...naughty.
Wetshaving is good old-fashioned brush-and-bowl shaving. With real metal razors and no hissing cans of goo. It's staring down the barrel of a loaded razor blade and saying "I ain't afraid o' you." It's being a man.
Yeah, that's right, I said it. We don't have many coming-of-age rituals anymore. There's nothing that really happens and lets people know "You are an adult" now. And I feel I missed out on something. My dad never taught me to shave (my dad never really taught me shit) and looking at what shaving really is, I feel I missed out. I always treated it as a "get it done and try not to hurt yourself too much" kind of thing, which is why I had a beard for nearly ten years. Now I know, with some practice and the right tutelage, shaving can actually be GOOD for you.
It's not just the fact that traditional creams and shaving soaps are easier on your skin, better smelling, and much more economical than all the plastic, science lab stuff that people use to shave these days. It's the fact that, with a little skill and patience, the heretofore lamentable task of daily shaving can become an enjoyable ritual, a time to relax and forget your cares, and take some time for yourself. I look forward to the time when shaving becomes something I actually anticipate with pleasure, instead of dread. And someday, if I have a son, I look forward to the day when I can hand him a razor and say, "Ok boy, this is how you do it."
There are some masculine rituals that are, in fact, good things. And this is one of them.
If you're a guy, and you think shaving sucks, and you wish it could be better, do yourself a favor. Go to Shave My Face, or Corey's ShaveBlog, or watch Mantic59's YouTube videos (links are also on the left, in the sidebar) and find a better way.
So, as you may have noticed, I flit from interest to interest, picking them up and putting them down faster than a fruitfly farts. It's a fact of life for me, and my wife is certainly learning all about it. I admit it fully, it's no secret. But sometimes, things come along and just say "I'm going to be a part of your life, ya dig?" And one of those things has come along.
Wetshaving.
Wetshaving, you say? What, pray tell, is that? It sounds vaguely...naughty.
Wetshaving is good old-fashioned brush-and-bowl shaving. With real metal razors and no hissing cans of goo. It's staring down the barrel of a loaded razor blade and saying "I ain't afraid o' you." It's being a man.
Yeah, that's right, I said it. We don't have many coming-of-age rituals anymore. There's nothing that really happens and lets people know "You are an adult" now. And I feel I missed out on something. My dad never taught me to shave (my dad never really taught me shit) and looking at what shaving really is, I feel I missed out. I always treated it as a "get it done and try not to hurt yourself too much" kind of thing, which is why I had a beard for nearly ten years. Now I know, with some practice and the right tutelage, shaving can actually be GOOD for you.
It's not just the fact that traditional creams and shaving soaps are easier on your skin, better smelling, and much more economical than all the plastic, science lab stuff that people use to shave these days. It's the fact that, with a little skill and patience, the heretofore lamentable task of daily shaving can become an enjoyable ritual, a time to relax and forget your cares, and take some time for yourself. I look forward to the time when shaving becomes something I actually anticipate with pleasure, instead of dread. And someday, if I have a son, I look forward to the day when I can hand him a razor and say, "Ok boy, this is how you do it."
There are some masculine rituals that are, in fact, good things. And this is one of them.
If you're a guy, and you think shaving sucks, and you wish it could be better, do yourself a favor. Go to Shave My Face, or Corey's ShaveBlog, or watch Mantic59's YouTube videos (links are also on the left, in the sidebar) and find a better way.
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