In the tradition of public apologies to creams that we have wronged in our hearts, I would like to add my own sentiments regarding an unjust characterization of C.O. Bigelow Shave Cream, a.k.a Proraso Green.
Oh Proraso, the dry burning that required three days of lotion was not, in truth, attributable to thee; neither thy menthol nor thy eucalyptus oil was culprit in the cracking and burning. Rather, the blame falls to me, a humble sinner, who combined too little water with poor form and a newly-acquired vintage straight razor. In truth, I did it to myself — and lo, it did really hurt.
But this morning I was feeling adventurous; and, reflecting upon the utter absence of any reaction from a mentholated aftershave balm or soaps inundated with essential oils, I reached for thy green tube: it felt right.
And the lather? Splendid. The cool freeze? Invigorating. The shave? Superb. And the crowning glory was thy icy kiss when I washed my face with cold water afterwards.
I hope we can put this unpleasant business behind us, Proraso.
Oh Proraso, the dry burning that required three days of lotion was not, in truth, attributable to thee; neither thy menthol nor thy eucalyptus oil was culprit in the cracking and burning. Rather, the blame falls to me, a humble sinner, who combined too little water with poor form and a newly-acquired vintage straight razor. In truth, I did it to myself — and lo, it did really hurt.
But this morning I was feeling adventurous; and, reflecting upon the utter absence of any reaction from a mentholated aftershave balm or soaps inundated with essential oils, I reached for thy green tube: it felt right.
And the lather? Splendid. The cool freeze? Invigorating. The shave? Superb. And the crowning glory was thy icy kiss when I washed my face with cold water afterwards.
I hope we can put this unpleasant business behind us, Proraso.
