King Gillette, in about 1903 (I know, there were earlier designs) did the world a favor by inventing the “safety razor “, a guarded razor tool to remove hair without the risk of severe injury associated with straight razor shaving. And since that time billions of men and women have enjoyed the benefit of his invention and the innumerable copies and refinements of his design. And then there are the straight razor shavers.
These guys (and I assume they are men; I’ve never heard of a straight shaving woman) eschew the obvious advantages of the safety razor with disposable blades to risk mutilation by dragging an insanely sharp unguarded three inch blade across their faces, a blade that cannot be simply discarded when dull (I know, shavettes) but must be constantly resharpened and honed through the skillful use of leather straps and stones. To use this instrument effectively and safely requires concentration and practice, a certain ambidextrousness and what can only be described as courage. And my reaction to this practice is, and ever will be, why?
Now I live amidst a most peculiar people, the Amish, who eschew all modern conveniences to live an essentially 19th Century lifestyle for religious reasons that I don’t completely understand. Their lives are hard. And dangerous. Several times a month I read stories of these people dying in farm accidents and buggy-car crashes that might have been avoided had they availed themselves of modern conveniences. And they know this too. But it’s their RELIGION, and who am I to question it.
But the straight razor shaver rejects modernity and convenience and safety to remove whiskers from his face because….? I don’t know. I don’t know why people climb El Capitan without ropes or jump off Angel Falls in bat suits or ride mountain bikes down crazily steep hills or inject themselves with unknown substances purchased from criminals. Man is indeed a mystery.
Now if you ask a thrill-seeker why he does these things he’ll answer with some variation of the famous mountain climbers quote that he didn’t climb mountains to die, but to live, meaning, I suppose, that risk-taking endowed him with something good that ordinary life couldn’t provide, without which his life would not be worth living.
So back to the straight razor shaver. Does he eschew the convenience and safety of the safety razor like our Amishman rejects the modern world in deference to his religion, in this case a secular belief that modern practices are somehow “wrong”? Or is he injecting the thrill of risk-taking into an otherwise boring grooming activity to enrich his life with some otherwise unobtainable good? You tell me.
I admit that there is an undefinable pleasure in mastering a skill, even an unnecessary skill that must be satisfying on some level. I know people who throw axes at targets and ride electric unicycles and they seem to enjoy it.
I also know that for every activity there are fanatics and zealots who have to do it differently, and so it seems with shaving.
Providing more questions than answers, I throw up my hands. I do not understand straight razor shaving, and I suppose I never will.
These guys (and I assume they are men; I’ve never heard of a straight shaving woman) eschew the obvious advantages of the safety razor with disposable blades to risk mutilation by dragging an insanely sharp unguarded three inch blade across their faces, a blade that cannot be simply discarded when dull (I know, shavettes) but must be constantly resharpened and honed through the skillful use of leather straps and stones. To use this instrument effectively and safely requires concentration and practice, a certain ambidextrousness and what can only be described as courage. And my reaction to this practice is, and ever will be, why?
Now I live amidst a most peculiar people, the Amish, who eschew all modern conveniences to live an essentially 19th Century lifestyle for religious reasons that I don’t completely understand. Their lives are hard. And dangerous. Several times a month I read stories of these people dying in farm accidents and buggy-car crashes that might have been avoided had they availed themselves of modern conveniences. And they know this too. But it’s their RELIGION, and who am I to question it.
But the straight razor shaver rejects modernity and convenience and safety to remove whiskers from his face because….? I don’t know. I don’t know why people climb El Capitan without ropes or jump off Angel Falls in bat suits or ride mountain bikes down crazily steep hills or inject themselves with unknown substances purchased from criminals. Man is indeed a mystery.
Now if you ask a thrill-seeker why he does these things he’ll answer with some variation of the famous mountain climbers quote that he didn’t climb mountains to die, but to live, meaning, I suppose, that risk-taking endowed him with something good that ordinary life couldn’t provide, without which his life would not be worth living.
So back to the straight razor shaver. Does he eschew the convenience and safety of the safety razor like our Amishman rejects the modern world in deference to his religion, in this case a secular belief that modern practices are somehow “wrong”? Or is he injecting the thrill of risk-taking into an otherwise boring grooming activity to enrich his life with some otherwise unobtainable good? You tell me.
I admit that there is an undefinable pleasure in mastering a skill, even an unnecessary skill that must be satisfying on some level. I know people who throw axes at targets and ride electric unicycles and they seem to enjoy it.
I also know that for every activity there are fanatics and zealots who have to do it differently, and so it seems with shaving.
Providing more questions than answers, I throw up my hands. I do not understand straight razor shaving, and I suppose I never will.