Moustaches Are Not For Me



My wife informed me immediately of her problem with my Movember moustache, namely that it reminded her of her father. (It's been a long month...) The kids said it made me look older, also like "Captain Grampie." I thought it made me look friendlier.

The most cutting comment came from my eldest daughter, age 10: "It made you look French," referencing the day I wore a flat cap.




Now that it's off, I do feel better. The Ming Shi 2000S had the honor of removing the thing in chunks, because I didn't do much softening, and was unwilling to pull out a shavette.

Movember Perspective

I did a little pre-growth Googling, mainly to check whether my ideological alignment was okay, and decided to grow a funny moustache again, mainly for my own amusement. (Neither I nor anyone I know has money to give to medical research or the marketing of medical services. Isn't it enough that we've participated in medicine as consumers, and are now nearly bankrupt?) Deep down, I still just really just want to look like John Waters.

There was good advice to let the whole beard grow, the first week. Chicks dig stubble, my spouse confirmed, and in this case, it hides the shame of a pretty sketchy 'stache. Too much nose hair, too little thickness just outside the Hitler zone. (Conversing on a forum, someone else with Native American heritage complained, so that's my excuse now!)

So, unlike No-shave November, Movember offers plenty of shaving enjoyment: first, on the neck, which of course everyone enjoys; and particularly, under the eyes and nostrils, to define a line. Despite lathering up, every other day or so, this week was still pretty awful for me, however. I couldn't quite shake the smell of cheese coming from my facial hair. The same unwelcome microbe as from the time I tried growing a full beard, apparently impervious to aftershave and alum. Plus, my little ingrown spot flared right up. I guess we really have to call it a deformity, at this point, always in the same spot, unwilling to develop into a proper wart or tumor.

Finally, last night, I made up my mind. The stubble was not standing up anymore, and felt more like little pole-vaulters than cushy velvet. This morning, I poked the not-shaving-bump and hit it with peroxide, so it would be soft and deflated, and not catch the blade with its scabbiness. YOU SHALL NOT PASS!

Oh,what a relief to be rid of the beard! No problems with the Ming Shi 2000S and Ming Shi blade. Six days wasn't skin-weakening, the way a whole month was. Indeed, I felt it was a great shave, though I wouldn't pass the cotton ball test. I think there are a couple reasons for that. One, that awful forest of cheese shifted my perspective on the aim of the shave. It actually felt completely gone after two easy passes, and I only squared up my strokes for a deeper, third pass because that's automatic for me.

Also, I think the follicles are standing the hair up less firmly, now that they haven't been reamed for awhile. A real, physical difference resulting from not shaving, more like what I had been hoping for in the month-long beard experiment. So that line of study is once again open. Theoretically, it kinda makes sense that the new, softer skin quality would progress outward from the dermis.

A New Angle

While considering yet another bloody noob at the forum the other day, I visualized the angle of attack in a new way, as a downward-slope from the cutting point on one hair, to the cutting point on the next. It appeared in my mind's eye as a simple triangle, an angle of descent. Though my lexical module intended to suggest a more horizontal mowing, the carnage before me showed that the edge was more like a plane crashing through the treetops of a facial jungle. I often imagine myself in the cockpit of such a plane, attacking the cutting point, so that wasn't new. But my attempt at communicating showed that I was actually confounding pitch and trajectory.

A light googling reveals that the input angle of a trajectory is called the "inclination." Why I find it relevant is, I've lately been shaving primarily with a razor that doesn't even have a single, integral pitch angle. Yet my Razorock Torsionshobel, newly dubbed "Eve," shaves very precisely, locking on to a definite "sweet spot" as far as how the handle is pitched. And, it doesn't seem to matter which point along the edge length, representing a particular angle of pitch, is being used on a particular spot. Though she may feel like an axe, with a smooth Racer blade, that's not at all how axes work. The pitch and direction would have to align perfectly.

If the trajectory were flat, would we not then have a plane, and a razor only as functional as a disposable? No, I think inclination is a true control, but under conditions of successful shaving, it functions to match the edge's descent to the pull of the hair, like a spacecraft maintains orbit against the pull of gravity. It is a better match to the "angle" of forum parlance than blade pitch, so that suddenly sounds a lot less stupid, to my ear.

Smooth Like an Axe

I think I must have had an axe with a broken handle around the house, growing up, because I can't imagine a tool more jarring and less smooth in operation. But you know, people have shaved with them. Some, you gotta figure, were just really good at honing shit. But for the purposes of this article, imagine a tug-and-cut kind of hatchet job, like a hammer-driven, Teutonic haircut I once saw on YouTube.

My imitation Merkur 37c (Italian Barber Torsionshobel, on an old Stirling, basic Merkur clone handle) earned its permanent place in the cabinet today, as my technical growth turned back in that direction, following the good, old Excalibur method. I had exhausted a Racer blade, which for me is tug-and-cut right out of the box, a very endearing quality. But it just got too rough in my Tech, after a week or two. (Sorry, I didn't actually count days, but I suffered two bad shaves, because I took it on a short road trip.) I could go steep and not get cut or anything, and work the hell out of my new XTG for touchups, but it was just such a stress on the skin.

Not with the slant. With sharp blades, some of the pitch angles in its simultaneously-applied range aren't great, and I end up exfoliated. With a blade too dull for integral attack, I can divide and conquer by tapping into this extended range, to get an effective cut once again. The obtuse edge contributes one face to each extreme, and they act as one virtual blade, with nothing that can threaten skin in the middle angles.

Recall that I don't buy into the idea of the slant as a guillotine, obviating the technical application of oblique strokes. The shallow cut and steep cut, applied simultaneously, each contribute their inefficiencies to the other's effective energy. I slide this razor just the same as my Tech, and can therefore justify, on pragmatic grounds, its inclusion in the Classic paradigm.

But, torsion is the true underlying concept, and that was a parallel development which Gillette never utilized, and Merkur, as the default competition, gladly embraced. I mean NOW, with cartridges, we have more than one blade angle being applied at once... at the cost of tradition and design integrity, literally fleecing people for a dollar. Until now, I've been inclined to see the slant as tainted by that same evil. Now, I see that there is a virtual safety or spacer bar in there, too.

So, as I've been waiting all day for the other shoe to drop, and the late-onset burn to set in, the only thing irritating me is the certain knowledge that I'll always have a Euro-style razor in my medicine cabinet. I guess I'll have to give her a real name, then: Eve.

Across The Grain Reexamined

The simple test of good technique, I have posited, is sliding: when we are shaving right, there is no "across the grain." As a criticism of the neotraditional second pass, that may be true, but the conclusion does not stand categorically. I've found a very good use of crossgrain strokes, one that points to cultural degradation in the barber tradition.

Where Weishi failed the beginner market, their colleagues at the factory under the Baili brand succeeded, producing two of the best new razors available at any price. One is a TTO intelligently updating, rather than downgrading, the Super Speed design, discussed recently in "Kung Fu Stella." There was previously a pretty good, if materially cheap Tech clone, which I essentially learned to shave with; but I named their newer, more loosely Tech-inspired three-piece "Chaoying," in recognition of the ascendancy of Chinese manufacturing. You can find it under various names in the West: I'd recommend the Razorock DE1.

This is the cutting head that finally showed me what XTG is all about. It features very little blade reveal, bucking the modern trend, making it particularly safe for reformed cartridge shavers. A poor man's DE89. It's remained one of my cabinet razors, but not preferred, as I just find it difficult to get down to the BBS, and a little un-smooth in use. That's because the natural pitch is steep, and the edge strikes rather far from the root of the hair. If I stubbornly stick to my routine of sliding WTG, sliding ATG, and then loosening the blade for deeper strokes finishing square ATG, it feels like I have "missed hairs."

But that's the perfect set-up for a cross-grain finishing pass. Imagine the cut tips, after your best ATG stroke falls too high. The long point is still palpable on hairs that weren't exactly following grain. A square XTG stroke catches the hair sideways, which is "wrong," in terms of generating tension against the root;  but that allows the hair to pivot freely away from the edge as it bends over, until it comes into opposition to the steep blade with the long side of the cuticle perfectly facing. It's a square stroke with the functionality of sliding!

And what that feels like is an efficient, non-digging stroke, yet with good traction, as it catches a lot of hair. Much more than just the few that seem to be sticking out when you stroke with fingertips. Which, I suppose, is the magic of this particular barber trick, finally revealed.

Weishi Wushu

It's probably not my place to write this, but you might have guessed it was coming, from the previous post. I've been a harsh critic of the Weishi, advising shims to correct its decidedly NOT classic head geometry. I never meant to be unsympathetic, though. Chinese people have soft hair, I've read. Nobody in the world has yet made a true copy of the Tech, which is what I really want. The Weishi, rebranded as Microtouch One and Van Der Hagen, is the only DE razor in stores, other than an unreliable supply of something like the Nanjie at Dollar Tree. Baring just enough edge to compete, the MTO crawled into the same gutter of false safety as the cartridges, cutting an exfoliated, stubbly swath through an ignorant market. Is that any worse than the bloody wreckage wrought by Merkur and its imitators?

Enter the Razorock Mamba, on an opposite approach: near the other end of the spectrum in materials and production methods, if not price, from a reputable niche supplier online. There can be no doubt, within its two one-thousandths of an inch machined tolerances, that everything about its geometry is intentional. It impressed some Tech users who reviewed it, and that impressed me. Ultimately, it bridged a gulf in my technique, between the modern and classic, the neotraditional and the antique. Once again, a purchase from Italian Barber has expanded my intellectual horizons... ironically, making it possible to get BBS with a razor that was thoughtlessly designed and ruthlessly marketed.

What I learned from the Mamba was the risk in allowing its head to swing around -- that is, the danger that sliding presents to modern shavers. At first, I kept getting dinged on a neck whorl, something I had long learned to avoid through sliding. I never before realized how dependent the fundamental technique of classic shaving is upon moderate angles of pitch, and the special geometry that allows them. With razors that are biased toward low angles, in order for beard reduction to progress and not bite, alternate means of traction control are required. Like those guys from pest control who use a stick to pin the head of a snake down, we will hold for dear life to the low angle!

Serpent Handling Method


On first pass WTG, I apply a fairly natural pitch, according to the breech of the cutting head. But limit sliding to where hair is thickest, at the middle of my face, which can stand up to an efficient attack. Take lighter, grainier hair with direct strokes, which will now require following the grain very closely, because you are striking the hair too high.

Second pass is reversed in both ways, sliding ATG on the finer hair, found on the periphery of my face and neck. This is the hair that can be lifted away from skin, rather than deflecting the edge into it. Coarser, more erect hair gets a direct stroke now; but not the steep, deep stroke that would finish a classic shave. More of a raking upward, not touching the skin at all. Push the angle so low that it lifts the edge off the skin, striking higher on the hair than can actually be reached. This is "lifting the blade" not only in the sense of applied force, but in the sense a plow operator would understand.

Another way to reduce traction, as an alternative to sliding, is to reverse the progressive direction that would normally be called for, and flatten the blade to catch the hair instead. Flatten the blade as much as possible on third pass, by loosening the handle slightly (even though it started out pretty flat already, when fully tight), and shave WTG. Keep the angle low, press the top cap into the skin, and pull like hell opposite the stroke. This may or may not bring the blade into contact with the skin of my lower neck, but I can still hear the hair being cut.

Fourth pass digs for the roots in a fairly natural way, using leverage sufficient to reach the ideal cutting point. Be sure to keep the low angle in mind, however. Same goes for any touch-ups or buffing.

Your Kung Fu is Weak!


How strange, that the basic Gillette shaving skills -- once boldly presented as instructions accompanying the product -- should apply to all subsequent razors, a hundred years later. Like learning to lather Williams, water first, applies to all other lathers. If you enjoy doing things right, that is. The tragedy of modern times is that, when the aim is to make money, we sometimes arrive at different answers.

Disciple Caine: Master, do we seek victory in contention?

Master Kan: Seek rather not to contend.

Caine: But shall we not then be defeated?

Master Kan: We know that where there is no contention, there is neither defeat nor victory. The supple willow does not contend against the storm, yet it survives.

Master Kan: Avoid, rather than check. Check, rather than hurt. Hurt, rather than maim. Maim, rather than kill. For all life is precious, nor can any be replaced.

https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Kung_Fu_(TV_series)

On the other hand, as a mere consumer sampling the "potluck" of razors available today, shaving does seem rather like the contentious game of chess: easy to learn, impossible to master. Without the challenge presented by lesser razors, I would not have this week's strategy for handling excessively keen, fresh blades in my trusty Tech: serpent-handling for the fine hair, reform method in the middle.

Kung Fu Stella

Forgetting to bring blades on vacation, the entrance of the Brownie into rotation, and an accident I had one day with the Slim, where I forgot to tighten the blade, have shaken down to a new technical breakthrough. Like the "artist method" of lathering with Williams soap, the blading technique outlined herein can be applied with only an inexpensive razor based on the Super Speed, and an SS-class blade. Yet still achieve what many hold to be the ideal, a "BBS" shave. Or, if you'd rather, milk a blade in less-than-ideal condition for a month of "DFS."

I'm always reminded of Charles A. Roberts' "Method Shaving" in the context of shave-by-number instructions, and once again find myself in search of a humorous label. Though there is a history, in the form of barber manuals, leading toward the neotraditional "three-pass shave," I think C.A.R. was onto something with his alternate, martial-arts inspired language of "forms." I'll give a nod to China, too, since I hit on this with my Baili BD-177 "Stella." We're definitely talking about some kind of Kung Fu. Like the shovel of a rebelling farmer, a humble weapon can become fully capable.

Originally, practicing Kung Fu did not just mean to practice Chinese martial arts.[5] Instead, it referred to the process of one's training - the strengthening of the body and the mind, the learning and the perfection of one's skills - rather than to what was being trained. It refers to excellence achieved through long practice in any endeavor.[4] This meaning can be traced to classical writings, especially those of Neo-Confucianism, which emphasize the importance of effort in education.[6]
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kung_fu_(term)

And I do expect you to continue learning, even after receiving this monumental wisdom. It's not meant to be the best shaving method, just the best method for now. (PSA: VDH/MTO owners will still probably need to shim. This is not the prophesied Weishi Wushu.)

Reform Method


Do not begin without having first learned to lather soap (see preceding post). Dry lather or shit from a can WILL KILL YOU. With the razor doors fully tightened, blade fully bent and secured, proceed as in Gillette's original instructions, sliding approximately WTG. That is, accommodating the topography of your face as well as the direction of growth, minimizing the drag on your skin, and shaving in long, straight lines.

Lather again, and loosen the blade slightly, to where it makes full skin contact, but is still safe enough to handle, and not fully loose. The Baili TTO has nice little fins guarding the blade corners, where you can check how flat your blade is; an unshimmed Weishi will already be flat, without loosening. Shave WTG again, more precisely: using shorter, square strokes, steeper blade pitch, more skin pulling and some pressure (together, as leverage). In other words, more deeply. That should result in a close, comfortable shave, all that is recommended for a beginner.

For a still smoother shave, apply what you have learned ATG. Whether to loosen the blade, or not, is up to you, now. Third pass uses sliding; fourth is deeper, with square strokes. Do not press to the hair roots just because you think it's the "last" pass, though. Remain mindful of traction on skin, and never allow excessive exfoliation. If shadows remain in the middle face area, alternate WTG and ATG touch-ups with square strokes, gradually increasing depth. Apply some kind of soapy slickness before each stroke, if not a complete relathering.

A New Direction


What else can I say, to the straight-stroking, hoe-digging, anchor-headed reprobates of the virtual world? Your fine radio voices, charismatic video presence, excellent writing skills, and good old-fashioned capitalism have somehow combined in the internet to create an anonymous, fascist monster. Everyone today is shaving wrong... but feeling really, really good about it! The simple test is sliding. When we shave right, there is no "across the grain."

Considering the blood shed in YouTube mimicry, "against the grain" is painful irony. My novel synthesis of the classic and the modern aims to foster a sense of progressive reduction sooner and safely, simply by stroking in the general direction that doesn't hurt. One shaves as deeply and evenly as possible, without damaging the skin, before moving on. I mean, think about it: if you missed a spot, it would be as if you just started shaving the wrong way.

Which everyone is doing anyway, due to not sliding on the first pass. The multiple levels of error do not compute within Google's inane engine of conformity, but luckily the old paradigm still exists in a few brains, and in reality. TRY a vintage Gillette, if you want to understand how "safe" your highly-rated safety razor really is. OBSERVE the forums' endless stream of "what happened to my neck?" posts. It's not their fault. They know that we're not supposed to be walking around stubbly, waiting three days for skin to heal. Aren't we supposed to be enjoying ourselves?

Balling with a Bowl and Williams

I've recently realized, while trying to explain how soap works on a forum, that according to the standards I've laid out here, my lathering ways have become extremely lazy and perverse. A far cry from the rustic Williams-in-palm method that I hold as being authentic tradition, from the time before hoarding. Taking just enough soap for one shave, or even one pass, in a small, narrow brush.

Bulbous 24-mm synthetic knots are a new standard, generally speaking, and might not even seem all that luxurious to a newcomer. Googling quickly orients one to the dry brush method of lathering, or an alternately wet, but equally stupid, method that sends soapy water spilling everywhere. Not having bothered to learn the old way is defeating the purpose of extravagance entirely. It takes forever to drip water back into the even greater volume of prematurely aerated paste; or, if you sent all your soap down the drain to start, how much lather are you really left with?

How To Lather Shaving Soap


Fill your brush at least half full of water, then use a soap cup to gently and carefully dissolve soap into the water, until it gets grey and sudsy. Unload the brush against the rim of the soap cup occasionally, to make sure that no relatively pure water is sequestered in the knot. The assessment of the suds is rather important, because stable bubbles, at this point, will ensure a stable lather later.

Without whisking to lather, transfer all protolather liquid into a separate bowl, first by dumping, then by wringing the brush on the lip of that vessel. Return to the soap cup to mop up any remaining moisture gently, without digging at the puck. A few stirs in the bowl makes it just bubbly enough that the fluid may be painted on the face without having it run down one's neck. Once more, drag the brush over the bowl rim to make room, before finally whipping up lather on the face.

It's not "bowl lathering," though the bowl's usefulness is maximized. And this specific technique is beyond the internet's present understanding of "face lathering." The essence is, loading and not lathering. Not until lather is needed, anyway. "Bowl preparation," to be precise. Actually, it seems like the most natural use of a scuttle.

If You Can't Join Them, Beat Them


I was confident that I could find a YouTube where an Italian barber does exactly what I'm talking about; and that adding soap to water, instead of water to soap, wouldn't need a label. I was wrong. It's not that I think I've invented anything by lathering soap efficiently. But the contrast between what I do and what everyone online does, and wastes everyone's time instructing, has become glaring and intolerable. Large brushes forced the issue, but it was always the amount of water in the brush that determined serving size. So if you still want to conserve soap, while affording yourself this luxury of a bowl or scuttle, simply reconsider using a brush of classic proportions.

Anyway, the switch in my head has officially flipped, from internal justification of my frugal guilt, to absolute justification. Categorize me as "correct," and everyone else as, "incorrect." That's all the newcomer needs to know. One might (justly) point out that I've been of that opinion since the founding of this blog. But I convict even my prior self, who rubbed the Williams lather that stuck to his palm into his beard as a minimal preshave. I didn't fully realize then, how much of the magic was attributable to my palm's contribution of natural moisturizing factor. It's not something you want to be wiping off your face, either.

Today, Williams is definitely in on the high life, as I pre-treat the lather bowl with a dollop of oil and/or a splash of fragrance. I've got a large, black-and-white synthetic brush heat-modified to a flame profile, extending its mighty mass of fiber into the tiny Armetale "mug." The opportunity to easily add amendments to the simplest of all shaving soaps is a synergistic benefit. My label search finally yielded an old forum post of my own, where I started with Ivory and added things in my palm. I then gave the nascent water-first approach an excellent label: the Artist Method. Though, when tossing in things like six grains of sugar, or a dash of psyllium husk powder, it may be more like alchemy.

So come on, everyone. There is no practical abundance in the mere possession of cupboards full of shaving soap. Quit cranking that brush, start maxing and relaxing. Indulge! I know you want to.

Finally Got A Brownie

I finally got to try a razor I believe I remember my grandmother endorsing, a later variety of Gillette Old Type. (For herself? For her spouse? I'll never know. I thought they were talking about the dessert, because I was four years old.) The originals had thinner caps than this one, from the twenties, but it still has a much flatter profile than my Merkur 41c.




Looks like the "1904 Classic" moniker refers to Merkur history, not Gillette, as I had previously thought. This is not a beginner razor, where the edge is by default suspended away from where it may do harm. You have to choose your angle wisely. Not because it is prone to cut, with the gapless geometry, but because it has tremendous "chomp," which reaches roots with ease, and can go too deep just as easily.

I'm tempted to go bald again, just so I can see if it can be managed on my scalp, where the 41c excelled. As for my face, I find it a bit exfoliating. My rationalization of this is that the curvature of the skin between OC teeth presents the blade at a range of angles, like a slant, and is thus not precisely controllable. Compensating for the most aggressive aspect would push the mildest aspect out of the effective range, and vice-versa.

I really don't think "efficient" is the right word for such razors. I've come up with some alternatives. "Angle relief" for the technical leeway, if not the mechanical advantage, of slants and combs; "traction relief" for pressure modulated anchors and TTOs. I've been shaving with all of them, lately, to see how they handle 2xWTG. (Though I frequently expand that to a four-pass shave, because I'm unwilling to give up the BBS attempt.)

The Tech is still the best razor for me, and I'd call the Slim the best razor for the theoretical everyman. One opinion has changed, though. I used to think OCs were better with smooth blades, and anchors needed sharp ones. I'd much rather take the dull blade out with traction relief now, and spare my skin from overly keen starts with angle relief. Deviating from the ideal, I not too surprisingly end up recreating the shaves of prior years; but I extract the full life from every blade, and never have to work too hard on technique.

As I find myself reflecting a lot lately, shaving just keeps getting better and better. Still, the last carrot may be dangling in the form of Razorock Mamba. I've seen some complain that the guarded geometry makes shaving close difficult or impossible, and I know my hair is that type, too. But I've been really good at adapting between razors, lately. Meanwhile, I have such precision with the Tech that I'm thinking about how to exploit the angle of cut tips. My hope is that the angle and traction relief of the Mamba are balanced, if not ideal; so that this other "efficiency" will not be denied.

Alas, my tax refund is already spent on minivan repairs. Maybe for Father's Day...

A Postmodern Paragon

Since Washington, D.C., I've been keeping with not-so-close shaves and extended blade use, because I think that historically, men would have shaved that way. With the extra attention to shadows around the mouth that a primarily WTG shave requires, I know that this is exactly what I saw my grandfather do, that one memorable day when I was only four years old. No way would the old timers have undertaken my journey to everyday BBS. Four years to figure out my follicle-excavating attack, the ideal soaps, the perfect blade, the -- okay, a mundane razor, then, would have been excellent by today's standards, but you know what I mean.

Gramps might have just shook his head and chuckled at my cheapskate "collection," but I know there's one razor that would have caught his eye, at least: that Ming Shi Futur clone. Whereas the burn-prone Weishi continued to disappoint me, when I employed a WTG-only approach, the nick-happy Ming Shi just kept cranking out fairly close, easy shaves. It pushed even a Cloud into multi-week use. Starting at the optimal setting of 2.5, I shaved again WTG at a slightly more dangerous "3." Then back to 2 ATG, to blunt the horribly pointy stubs. I cannot shave for depth ATG, because the distant safety bar doesn't pry the hair apart from its follicle.

"Velvety." I think it's the high degree of exfoliation, sensitizing to touch, combined with the absence of any breach. But don't let that angle rise too high, or... gotcha! It has limitations similar to a shavette, but in exchange, becomes even smoother in use than the classic DEs.

Magnesium Everywhere

I was pretty impressed, you could probably tell, with Epsom salt. I just had to try the other, probably less popular forms of the mineral magnesium found at retail. I had supplements already, also. Nothing wrong with that, except that magnesium is as common as dirt, or at least seawater. I tend not to keep up with supplements, just use them to figure out what I should be eating more of.

Magnesium chloride is a... saltier (?) salt than magnesium sulfate. You can use it the same way, or concentrated as magnesium "oil." The latter does feel greasy, but only because it's drying the top layer of your skin to a crisp. My litmus test with Erasmic indicates that the skin effect could be similar, in more appropriate concentrations, but since it stings like a sonofabitch, and is extremely, gag-inducing bitter in the mouth (where it should probably never go), I'm sticking with Epsom salt. Though my beard's cuticle structure WAS pretty much destroyed by magnesium oil, making the cutting effortless, it weakened the skin much like alum and Epsom salt. And it thinned my lather, even as a residue. At best, it will make a convenient spritz additive to my basin water, hopefully to lend a touch of the seawater effect as a dilute presoak. I had some stiff, achy calves after touring Washington, D.C., and it had no effect as a substitute massage oil. In short: choose Epsom salt.

Milk of Magnesia is used in beauty circles as a makeup primer. It's supposedly very high in pH, but of course is perfectly safe to ingest by mouth, and it's one of the substances I use in place of (glycerin) toothpaste. As preshave, it did not have any hair weakening effect, and treated the skin much like baking soda solution. Winner: baking soda.

Speaking of soda, nobody told me that the laxative magnesium citrate, sold in little screw-top glass bottles as saline laxative, was plesantly carbonated. I had a shot after my gut was already cleared by fasting, to avoid any mishaps, and now it is my chosen supplement (in smaller quantity than indicated on the label). As a preshave splash, it lacked any discernible effect. On the fifth day of my fast, however, I was so energized that I felt like dancing for exercise. Still got the seventh-grade moves!

The Only WTG

Sometimes, with the grain is the only way to go. Most of the time, I don't like the shadows that result from this gentlest of all DE shaves. But I'm currently "stuck" ;-) in Washington, D.C., due to weather delays, tagging along with my wife on her important political business. She usually has a travel agent, and only carry-on luggage; this time, she went online to save money, and checking our bags was cheaper. Hallelujah! -- a real razor!

However, the Voskhod stowed in my travel razor, "Mimi," was already nearly worn out when we left, and was never intended for extended use. It's a nice, smooth blade, but one I have no compunction about throwing away after less than one week of use, and thus, ideal for travel. Or so I thought, until the wind storm hit, effectively doubling the length of my trip. I inquired hopefully at the front desk, but they just pulled out a complimentary disposable razor. A pretty nice-looking one, too. I just said, "no, thanks." I'd rather risk the dull blade than automatically plane my skin.

At first I tried keeping to the three-pass, BBS standard, and ended up slightly blotchy. Nordic people were still out and about yesterday, despite the Smithsonian being closed, leaning into the wind to check out the monuments and architecture, along with some relatively tiny museums. I personally enjoy learning the landscape and the metro, which is not easy for one used to the wooded hills of Vermont. I had already seen Art of Shaving last time, but even mundane urban things like Trader Joe's and The Body Shop are worthy destinations, to me. Thank God we found "1 Fish, 2 Fish," a budget sushi and oriental fusion restaurant for lunch, before my wife split back to the hotel to work. I could feel my face going numb, but when I got back, I found that the chill didn't prevent an unsmooth texture from rising on my skin.

So, next morning, two passes WTG. First pass same as always, second with full manipulation and just enough pressure to hit hair again, going for the roots the "wrong" way. The angle is less than ideal with respect to the skin, and the shave quite exfoliating, making all my old scars slightly more visible than usual. Insignificant consequences compared to the effect of the hair itself deflecting the edge into the skin, when you shave ATG.

Small worries compared to my wife's, struggling by phone and the internet to get us assigned to adjacent seats like she had it before. As we begin our last day in the hotel, I rise early to discover that I actually look like I need a shave, for a change. So I do the same thing again, finding only enough growth for two passes. Some repeated strokes, sure, but I do that normally... yes, with only my tiny kabuki brush, squeezed out for the second pass, I guess this is actually the more efficient shave, too. You heard it here last, folks!

Epsom Salt

Hydrated magnesium sulphate (MgSO4·7H2O), better known as Epsom salt, was discovered in 1618 by a farmer in Epsom, England, when his cows refused to drink the water from a certain mineral well. He tasted the water and found that it tasted very bitter. He also noticed that it helped heal scratches and rashes on his skin. Epsom salt is still used today to treat minor skin abrasions.
https://education.jlab.org/itselemental/ele012.html

Uh, how come nobody informed me of this? That sounds WAY better than alum! Certainly, when you're still scraping yourself, trying to figure out how to shave. I thought that shit was just for bathing, or soaking your feet!

As I've been "refeeding" awhile, following my holday fasts, I've become convinced that I am magnesium deficient. Supposedly, 2 out of 3 of us Americans are. Drinking soda is especially bad for this, also sweets. (Guilty!) I wonder if kombucha addiction should also be listed. I only think of it as cleaning my "pipes" of excess calcium, but those two ions tend to go together. Magnesium is undoubtedly the better way to prevent calcium buildup in the body. The same restless feeling in my muscles that compelled me to take up running, after I started drinking kombucha, prods me when I overdo carbs now. Magnesium pills take that weird, bodily anxiety away.

Here's the biggest magnesium bombshell, in my opinion:

ATP (adenosine triphosphate), the main source of energy in cells, must be bound to a magnesium ion in order to be biologically active. What is called ATP is often actually Mg-ATP.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magnesium_in_biology

ATP is a neurotransmitter, too?
https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/16487603
Wouldn't surprise me if that's what was making my muscles crawl. But it could be anything, really, because so many enzymes are only active with magnesium.

So this report from 400 years ago, regarding skin abrasion, is absolutely plausible, and must be tested in the context of shaving. (Or the internet will be forced to rely on this copypasta.)

Abrasion Test


Unfortunately, I have a ready experimental model of inept beginner shaving: a terrible pairing of the Gillette-Wilkinson Sword blade from India with the Italian Barber Torsionshobel razor. The blade seems sharp enough, but looks too wide in the razor. It has a real knack for opening up my neck to the lower right of the Adam/s apple, given the range of cutting angles applied simultaneously by the slant razor.

I prepared a salt solution by just covering the bottom of my little ceramic cup kept for this purpose, and adding several splashes' worth of water to dissolve, maybe 1 cm deep. Erasmic soap provided a litmus lather for a preshave test: if enriched, it would perform like Arko, and if diminished, it would dissipate like Williams (in beginner hands). First, I applied a soap emulsion to cleanse the skin, and rinsed; then rubbed some Epsom salt solution as preshave, and backed it off with a damp cloth.

Results. Lousy preshave, much like alum. Though I didn't get any extra cuts, I still got neck weepers in a shittty, two-pass shave with touchups. This, AFTER I rinsed off the first lather, because it was so obviously diminished by the salt. Insubstantial, watery, dissipating... no way was I going to shave on that. I could feel my brush catching my face after it delivered a stroke of soap and was somewhat depleted, the way we use alum to prevent slippery fingertips.

Postshave, good! When splashed on a wet, rinsed face, there was no sensation. When wiped off and reapplied full-strength, some alum-like tingle was felt... but still no sting on the weeping neck. Neither did it stop the bleeding, however. I eventually pressed my deodorant aluminum alum against it, which didn't sting, either, thus prepared. More subjectively, I would say my skin is smoother and softer than with alum, but I won't be able to use this without splash or balm, either -- too drying.

But how does it taste, you ask? I used the leftover salt as a mouth rinse, and brushed my teeth with it. The answer is, bitter, very bitter! I almost puked, and there was an immediate laxative effect.

Overall, since alum rarely stops bleeding on its own, either, I think I will give the edge to Epsom salt. I will dump my spray bottle filled with dissolved chunks of alum, and replace it with a solution of Epsom salt.

But stay tuned, there's more...

Pity The Noob

The weeks of tolerating beard growth had absolutely no pay-off. Immediately I struck a follicle in a scarcely-hairy corner of my neck, and have had to look at that ingrown ever since. My favorite blade, the Ming Shi MP-036 ("diamond") is rather too sharp for my nubuck face, apparently only excelling on full grain. And every offended follicle still shows a poor texture, like I'm learning to shave all over again. Because a steeper angle is required to shave at the surface, the damage is all right at the surface; when I was shaving close, at a lower angle, the blade didn't oppose skin much, except inside the follicle.

So today I got my Merkur OC out of the storage box, and swapped it for the Travel Tech on the end of the plastic Sterling handle, and began the process of re-toughening myself with the sharp blade, just as I toughened my scalp. Experiment, failed. Best teacher: failure.

My sympathy to the new shavers out there. It surely is frustrating, to miss the little stubs, here and there, with a blade that isn't quite sharp enough to catch them easily, or safely reach the base of the hair, where the skin holds it up against the blade better. You just have to take a close-enough shave, and walk away. Sometimes even when you're a master, like me. The art aspires only to evenness, then, and lack of injury, not completion. I did a rare one-pass shave this week with the Tech and a Dorco blade, not pushing the Williams lather too hard.

There is nothing at all wrong with that.

But I really want to get into my new Fine soap, with a 24-mm Plissoft that holds twice what is necessary, and just start nailing it to the root with three passes again.