Your First Brush

Synthetic

Period. Wow, that was a short one!

As much as I'd like to leave it at that, I'm sure you want to know why you must buy a synthetic brush first:
  • precise, easy-to-read loading of water and soap
  • accepts abuse, rarely loses a bristle
  • dries fast
  • inexpensive

On the negative side:
  • no tactile sensation or exfoliating effect
  • baleen effect (water dumped from side of brush)

I like to get creative with my $6 nylon brush, using it to clean my armpits, or apply a Pepto-Bismol mask. Lather up a bath soap, and you'll have an aerosol-free bowl of scrubbing bubbles for behind the toilet seat. The knot fell out once; I glued it back in with regular household cement. It will never die, and it whips up the most refined, wet lather very efficiently. It's still my first choice for travel, while I've collected additional synthetics of various dimension for luxury at home. Their soft tips can be focused on the base of your whiskers... only, without a certain thrill.

Boar

I finally splurged on the Semogue 620, my most expensive brush, after three years of lathering. As the winter dragged on, I craved a good scrubbing to help crumble the cheese my face was becoming, and keep chapping at bay. When you itch, it means the skin is being stretched apart inside, as opposed to the burning of external failure. I believe there are subconscious degrees of both, and that the massage of a boar brush relieves all stress. More practically, its firm, flag-tipped fibers retract follicles to an extent closely matching the blade that follows.

None of which has anything to do with "picking up hard soap." In fact, I was disappointed to see my best lathers die amid the absorbent boar bristles, where moisturizer-laden formulas succeeded. Luckily I found this tip in a 1925 Gillette pamphlet: after shaving, squeeze lather out without rinsing. My brush now dries faster, and only requires rewetting before the next use, rather than prolonged soaking. Ironically, the harmful deposition of soap scum is disrupted, by the actual soap.

  • best skin contact ("backbone," "scritch")
  • inexpensive

  • lengthy break-in to release "funk" and develop the desired split-ends
  • adds a hidden factor to water balance

The spongy aspect of a boar brush can perhaps best be appreciated by face latherers, whose technique involves more liquid transfer... and who logically would tend to use hard soaps. I count myself among them, though actually I split the difference, keeping warm protolather in my bowl in a mostly liquid, frothy state. It takes only a small portion of that substance to paint large areas for shaving, and the lack of dripping and tactile superiority of boar shine as I work up lather on the skin. Which contributes its own natural moisturizers, balancing the water content at precisely the right, final moment, without me ever having to add anything.

Beware machine-made boar brushes that fall apart, considered long-term disposable, in sample kits especially. Yet even a $10 boar brush carries prestige that other entry-level products lack.

Badger

The original, definitive shaving brush fiber now lives mainly in gentrified neighborhoods. The way badger bushes out, with non-absorbent fiber, and lots of internal space, give it strong mopping and whisking capabilities. Higher grades are as soft at the tip as synthetic, with some "backbone," too. Badger has it all.

  • best at lathering overall, especially creams in a bowl
  • stability of heat and water content
  • frou-frou factor

  • budget versions (Pure, Best) are more scratchy than scritchy
  • reeks of wet dog and economic injustice

Sorting badger hair by hand is obviously a labor-intensive enterprise. Direct-from-China prices are nowhere near what European brands demand. A dyed goat and horsehair brush is sometimes pawned as "[a] badger" (article intentionally omitted) in the sub-$10 price range. It is yet another marketing disaster for the novice shaver to sort out, and frankly, I don't think it's worth the bother, given today's advanced synthetics. If only some artisan would offer an American-made skunk or woodchuck brush, we could all enjoy a good laugh at the expense of the rich folk!

Horse

I've probably never actually owned one of these, since my No. 6 from Bestshave.net is believed to have been a boar brush, by most accounts. Oh, wait: who cares? The googlearchy has been wrong about everything else! Horsehair offers a compromise in the qualities of all of the above.

  • easy lather
  • moderate scritch and backbone
  • moderately inexpensive

  • can be floppy
  • sometimes tangles, requiring combing
  • may have an odor

For what it's worth, the No. 6 was easily the worst-smelling brush I've ever encountered. Like burning tires, it was. I believe this was attributable to the glue, more than the animal. With the odor reappearing intermittently following chemical cleaning methods, I ultimately replaced it with an Omega 10049 boar brush for more than twice the money (i.e., $8).

That cheap, hollow plastic-handled brush just might be my favorite!

To de-funk a lather eating boar brush

  1. soak bristles right up to the knot in cold water 3 days, avoiding wooden handle
  2. wash with dish soap, penetrating voids near knot
  3. rinse
  4. lather shaving soap, fill brush completely, and allow to air dry (days, if necessary)