AN INTRODUCTION: WET SHAVING

By David Beilstein

ONE of the beautiful things about being a man is the ability to grow facial hair. That ability, God given, adds to the character and aesthetic of what it means to be a man. Certainly the character of man, his honor of neighbor and the women throughout his life’s course trump this, but that should not belittle a healthy entheos for beard growth. I must say, when I began to “have” to shave, it was more than exciting.

I was almost - as they say - fascinated.

But limited income or not, shaving can be pricy, and more to the point, many men find shaving by the time they reach their mid-twenties to be nothing but aggravation. Frankly, life has its gifts and subtractions, and male pattern baldness would have to fall under the heading of subtractions - those subtractions, ones good or bad behavior has little if nothing to do with.

The beard, as it were, is a gift. Male pattern baldness, however, is a curse in life.

There was a time I boasted of some of the most beautiful textures of hair God gave to a man. But at the age 24 or so, I began to see discernable signs of hair loss. Sorrow beset me. It was a shock, given how thick and luminous my hair had been. It was not altogether long after, the past ways of styling my hair looked absurd because of the specific pattern of hair loss I became a victim of - yes, it was that horrific it seemed.

It was not long before a change was needed, necessitated by self-dignity. In the proud tradition of heavyweight champion Jack Johnson, many moons ago now - one of the proudest, boldest, pure individual Americans, to once draw breath, I began to shave my head. Smooth, bald, no peach fuzz. Thanks to the mightiest God of creation; The God before all worlds, I looked pretty dapper with my head shaved.

It’s not something a man can just decide to look good with. One either pulls it off, or ones do not.

That could be another gift and curse motif. Not the most destructive curses, but enough to add some colour and character to a man’s life. Since becoming a film student full time, however, the reality of limited income has added new dimensions to my life. One of those dimensions is the cost of ordinary things - things everyone has to buy. For a man, this means shaving equipment - cream, oils, and razors. Shaving one’s head adds to this cost, as oils and creams are an asset to present razor burn, and add to the sheen of the pate.

Doing the math, I have found this is an ungodly amount of money when added up. The shaving of the head and the skin needs that requires simply expands the cost of shaving care. Having sworn some kind of loyalty to the Gillette Mach 3 shaving apparatus, the blades alone are enough to send the most loyal customer into Chapter Eleven. Now, every company is entitled to its profits, when in a free society customers purchase their product. Voluntary exchange of goods and services, then, is an enriching basis upon which society moves and grooves.

But when you can’t afford something; you cannot afford something. A revealing statement, something my father - a roaring lion of wisdom - might utter.

Onward we traverse. Many trends and movements envelope American culture - some of them odd, some good, some stupid, some beautiful and worthless, and some worse than obscene. One such trend, or better yet movement, is the comeback of the straight razor or “wet” shaving. Like the nostalgia for bow ties and casual pipe smoking, I find this trend refreshing. But I never considered it an option until I began looking at how much money I could safe partaking of it. The same could not be said of bow ties, or as it were, pipe smoking.

As I began to research shaving with a straight razor, the aesthetics also gripped my attention. It seduced me, I might admit. The shear romance of it - and yes, I must confess I lionized the masculine personification of it. I’ve always romantized the healthier aspects of manhood - courting a woman, rather then dating, and on and on. There is much about our culture’s idea of masculinity I find perverse - not simply on devout Presbyterian grounds - but aesthetic grounds too. But every so often, an old school Negro like myself latches onto something swimming through the culture that reminds one of the freedom and the dignity of being human; of being a man, living in a free society. Or, it used to be, and, still is compared to most societies. Such a tide typically comes from a trend that allows for both innovation and the way the individual likes - or needs - something done to his liking.

Concerning straight razor shaving, then. About a year ago, maybe more, I began to look into this dazzling zeitgeist arriving in the bowels of American culture. I started to learn about the different blades, technique, and products. So I am in the process of converting to straight razor shaving. I’ll need to save up some bucks. The cost up front is pricy, no more than a nice electric razor, but when a film school student - or any college student - that can be a steep price regardless.

There is some men who might read this and say, “Oh Lord, no.” But relax, Gentlemen! I have the hands of a surgeon and am adapt at using both left and right hand with precision and grace; years of pugilism were amenable to such skills. Hell, I even drive with my left hand. Razors are different some will lament. Yes, there will be a nick here or there in the beginning. I have been cut worse before, trust me. Contact my surgeons.

But think of the women, dear sirs. They have babies. Now, I know something about pain - after a handful of mysteries and experience, and other medical gymnastics done to my body. But I can honestly say, if a human being can go through giving birth, a man can draw a blade to his head, or face, even his neck.

Men used to weld the straight razor on a regular basis, and teach their young sons how to handle the blade. The only drawback: time. As it requires more time, more craft, to weld a straight razor. This is good, though. We are a rushed society. A society propelled forward into much morass, forgetting the finer things of life. A man’s face and it’s care, ought to be one of the human things a man treasures about himself; not boastfully, but because it is part of him.

And so, another new thing, If God permits, is upon me. If I was not a Presbyterian, I’d ask those reading to wish me luck. But I am Presbyterian, so if you pray, pray; and likewise, consider the blade. Consider looking forward to that time you spend alone peering at your face, it’s curves - it’s shape.

And enjoy being a man - it’s special.