Oh the Blade
If you’ve ever actually met me in real life, chances are I appeared at that time unshaven. Not that I have a heavy beard or anything—although I have on occasion sported various styles of facial hair—but specifically whatever areas of my face that would reasonably require regular maintenance in the form of shaving (even full beard wearers shave some parts of their faces to keep the beard looking neat) have far greater than even odds of being unshaven at any given point in time.
The reason for this is not actually (well, not completely) attributed to laziness. Truthfully, shaving is and has always been a problem for me.
There are a couple of reasons why shaving has been a pain ever since I matured to the point where not shaving was something that had a noticeable effect. And really that hasn’t been all that long. I probably first shaved a few wisps of facial hair around my Sophomore year in high school, but it wasn’t until I was twenty or so before I could claim any sort of legitimate facial hair that might require regular shaving. It probably wasn’t for a year or two after that before I could let it grow and the result would appear to be something akin to a real beard.
But even now my full “beard” is pretty sad: It grows uneven and inconsistently hued. It doesn’t grow much on my cheeks other than in a few select patches and the whole thing is plagued by the same affliction as my (lately ever more absent) head hair, which is what my dad always called “cowlicky” but really means that the grain or direction of growth is not uniform. I’ve experimented with various styles of facial hair in the past to varying degrees of success, but any style is still going to suffer from its composition of thick, coarse hair that pretty much does its own thing regardless of other neighboring hairs. Plus my mustache is really pathetic with the hair along the ridges of my philtrum growing far, far darker than anywhere else across my upper lip so that in anything save direct natural lighting I have a vaguely Hitler-esque appearance. I’ve tried many combinations of mustache-less beard configurations but the end result is almost always that I have more surface area to maintain than growing facial hair would suppose and, indeed, is designed to prevent.
The really unfortunate part is that I don’t particularly care for facial hair. It’s uncomfortable to me (although I inherited my father’s penchant for tugging my facial hair when I’m deep in thought which is why I almost always leave at least a little soul patch under my lower lip, just to have something to play with while I think—I never was able to fully mimic my father’s preference for the corner of his mustache, probably due to the fact that my mustache corners consist of about four wispy strands). I would prefer to be mostly clean shaven, which returns from my digression so I can finish telling you why shaving has been a pain.
The primary factor is that I received a genetic gift from my dear maternal grandmother of intensely sensitive skin. I have to use certain kinds of soap, both in the shower and on my laundry. I generally have to just be really careful about what kinds of deodorants, lotions or ointments I use because I’ve had some pretty rough reactions to things on occasion. I suspect that heavy dyes and perfumes are the worst offenders which is why things like All Free & Clear laundry detergent work pretty well but fabric softener sheets are big negatives. Even when using “sensitive skin” shaving foam, the mere act of scraping the hair off my face is generally enough to give my skin fits.
The other factor is less easily identifiable but I suspect has something to do with the weird growth patterns and thickness of my hair which is that if I try to shave stubble, that is hair that isn’t at least a few days worth of growth long, I get the worst razor burn ever.
Now, I’ve tried for the past ten years or so various methods of having a reasonably presentable face (such as is possible with a mug like mine). I heard that the key was to just shave every single day at the same time and eventually the razor burn would go away. I don’t know exactly how long that regimen is supposed to happen, but two weeks later and I was basically just shaving off scabs from the previous day every morning so I figured that was both really gross and pointless. I’ve tried electric razors that are generally less close shaves thinking that might be better since it may not get the blades on my actual skin as much, but it doesn’t work because I both don’t feel like I really shaved that much and I still get razor burn. And each time the razor companies add another blade to their disposable or cartridge lines, I give it a shot thinking it might be better. It isn’t.
The only routine that sort of works is my current regimen which involves literally shaving only once per week. But again, I really would prefer to be clean shaven much more often, not to mention the fact that I’m sure Nik would appreciate it and her own fairly tender skin is often razed a deep red after even mild smootching by my almost permanently sandpaper-like face. Not ideal.
And a couple of weeks ago a new problem appeared that started me thinking about shaving options again: I rushed home from work and had a short period of time to shave after having gone for nearly two weeks without. I grabbed one of the generic triple-bladed disposables that we buy as the best option I’ve yet found and started in. About two-thirds of the way through I noticed that a few clumps of my thick beard had gotten lodged in the tiny gaps between the blades, which essentially rendered those sections of the razor’s head useless at best and painful at worst, and no amount of rapping the razor on the edge of the sink would dislodge the clogs. Ouch.
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