You Live in a Tube of Lies

I am still, at this late date, in the process of comprehending the paradigm shift in lathering, that was historically precipitated by the invention of shaving cream. As a Williams user and one whose skin isn't fond of glycerin in soap, the significance of natural moisturizing factor in creating lather entered my awarenees rather quietly. Barely an epiphany, hardly worthy of obsession. Cans, of course, were absolute evil... no, I could even be persuaded to use Barbasol, on occasion.

In the course of my liberal practice of the lathering arts, then did I come to realize the extreme relative ease of dissolving soap into water, versus adding water to a matrix of bubbles. I began to think of "loading" in terms of the starting quantity of water, and THAT was the fulcrum of the shift in my mind. It only gained momentum, from there. As I worked out the signals that predict whether a given soap solution has the potential to become lather, there was no need to "make lather" in the bowl at all, not even for proving purposes. The mechanics of using a brush to generate, then transfer non-aerated -- well, slightly foamy -- fluid from puck to bowl, and bowl to face became automatic, and I was finally at liberty to fill the bowl, not with airy foam, but enough wet mix of soap and water to shave four passes, including my scalp, and take a sponge bath afterward, if desired.

So you might think my soap pucks are in serious decline at this point, right? Not at all. Even though I bought a little soap cup specifically to help me finish off some nuggets of remnant soap I had been trying to use in my palm, it still took for goddamn ever. My autumn favorite, Italian Barber Sandalwood for Sensitive Skin, lasted well into winter. Simple enrichments seem very effective at prolonging soap life; so also, a glycerin puck that someone returned to me as an unused gift is putting up a tremendous fight as the winter continues, while Williams and Fine are most visibly diminished. The latter are also noticeably more concentrated in use, suggesting that I have some technical refinements to make, still.

It Depends What The Meaning of "Lather," Is

I do think the weight and bulk of principle is presently within my ability to communicate. First and foremost, the word "lather" has other, legitimate meanings, and historically may not have resembled anything that currently comes out of a can, or is "built" by hand. And I don't mean, wet lather or thin lather. I mean, large bubbles piling up on a fluid surface. That is the meaning used in the soap titration test for water hardness, which actually parallels the first step in my lathering process. By stirring gently until bubbles of some quantity and stability form, I know that I have overcome water hardness, at least.

I believe this meaning of "lather" further justifies the terrible Williams manufacturer instructions. I have documentary evidence of at least one elderly professional who is content to go to work with just suds. But for me, and probably most of us, a leap of faith is required, in the hope that this pitifully thin fluid will thicken when combined with the oil in skin. I look for bubbles of such firmness and quantity that they expand the brush, causing the fluid to climb up into it. It's not a direct assay, like titration.

The Problem

There, I believe, is precisely where tradition failed, eroded by a river of insipid observations and practices that everyone who knew no better could agree upon. Collectively known as, the internet forum. I've found this pattern copied in traditional fasting, popularized now as intermittent fasting (skipping meals) and ketogenic diet (bye-bye, gallbladder). And everyone brewing kombucha like it's beer: "Throw away the pellicle, it's just a byproduct." The government will be absolutely correct to regulate that shit soda out of existence. Loading soap paste into a brush is just plain wrong. There was never really supposed to be anything like shaving cream there; you expose a valuable tool to an unnecessary risk of losing bristles, and your skin to an unnecessary risk of chemical insult.

It's actually surprising, to me, how infrequently tradition falls on the wrong side of issues. Circumcision comes to mind, but religion is obviously at the root of that. Someone deliberately confounded tradition with authority, then represented it as popular. You can fool most of the people, some of the time, but lay education will probably sort that out yet; that is, time is on the foreskin's side. They may have mutilated me, and maybe I hadn't completely figured that out before seeing it on Netflix; but I still had enough sense (or sensation) not to let them get my son.

At the heart of authentic tradition is this kind of safeguard against the fake news, when you receive the information from someone you personally trust. The best assurance I can give you, unfortunately, is that whenever I tell people they're doing supposedly traditional activities incorrectly, using no reference but experience, the information is wildly unpopular. Thank goodness, you can try making lather my way without losing anything important!

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.

Beards Suck

Sorry, Santa!

I wasn't noticing any change in baseline comfort, once the itching passed. I was noticing a cheesy smell, despite lining well under my nose, regular washing and even fasting (not that I'm a sloppy eater). It wasn't bad looking, until it started getting a bit ahead of the hair on my head with respect to volume, due to scruffiness. So when my wife reminded me of a party coming up, that was it! Ripped it off with the 41c and a fairly dull Cloud blade, then shaved lightly with the Tech and a fresh Personna. I'm really determined not to overshave, expecting zero support from the skin, but I did graze bottom slightly in the trench around my chin with my first WTG pass. Nothing bleeding, nothing that won't heal well by tomorrow -- just enough to spoil the milky white.

About Fasting

Believe me: I'm no health nut. But ever since discovering the fermented tea beverage, kombucha, strange things have been happening. I do believe I pickled myself! Muscle tone and endurance improved; furthermore, I felt compelled to exercise. But then winter came, and I no longer had a good place to run... well, that, and running is f--ing brutal on someone carrying as much weight and as many years as me. I was starting to turn a corner, from "old man strength" to knotty old tree.

Then I hit upon this documentary,

https://m.youtube.com/watch?feature=youtu.be&v=t1b08X-GvRs

mentioning that after three days' fast (according to the Russians) one's body experiences an "acidosis crisis." Cool -- just the back-tracking I need! Even on the face of it, it makes perfect sense that not eating would be the alternative to exercise. Though kombucha is highly acidic, kind of a tea vinegar beer soda, metabolizing it leaves you alkalized. And I know firsthand, from the epithelial effects of baking soda in water, that this very well accounts for my excessive toughness.

Actually, the resonance goes all the way back to a preceding hobby, the high lime content of my local water making for excellent jelly and pickles. Excess sugar doubtless had a role in my condition -- I'm a fiend when it comes to sweets. Fasting is all about fixing that.

I was pleasantly surprised that I didn't have to wait three days for my muscles to relax, after I stopped eating. That was noticeable on the first day. Turns out, a lot of people just eat one meal a day for this reason, which they call "intermittent fasting." I was somewhere in between that and "water fasting," because I rewarded myself with a pint of kombucha (I'm guessing less than 50 calories) at the end of each day, but didn't eat for 5 days on end. I also allowed myself the traditional salt sustenance and appetite suppression of soup broth and coffee.

By now you should know, I'm always going to let intuition guide me over any advice, good or bad. Well, it is much more comfortable for me, to have nothing in your gut, than to be sending a large meal down the pipe, followed by a day of churning. My first day sucked the worst, by far. I was full of energy on the second day, working on glycogen stores in my liver. On the third day I learned I needed some potassium to balance as the sodium in my broth, and used it to get over some inflammation deep in the center of my head. Fourth day was merely (!) a mental challenge, as I had to take my family through the McDonald's drive-thru without partaking -- and my wife didn't eat hers for an hour, which was pure torture.

By the fifth day, I had it dicked. I've quit smoking and drinking before, after all. It was down to little pangs of temptation, the unguarded moment. But I'm not trying to quit eating altogether! Nor do I have any real problems, like the patients of the Siberian or German clinics on their 3-week program, under medical supervision. Five was plenty. Pancakes and bacon started my sixth day.

I wish I could send my wife to Germany. The medical establishment has its claws into her deep, with diabetes and cancer medicine. I say "metabolic syndrome" to our doctor regarding her and my chubby son, and get no reaction. We went to an endocrinologist for her diabetes, at my insistence. Nope, same shit: take pills, wait for the inevitable decline. We will "monitor."

Don't know why I'm telling you all this. It's one of those things you can only teach by example, and experiential learning does the rest. We used to do this in boarding school, which immunized me against modern medical ignorance. Just a couple of days, with juice. (I was skinny then.)

This time, I was just beginning to get acquainted with my appetite for salt, and from that, moving forward, I'll be benefitting from more soup and salad consumption, and morning coffee on the regular. There was more I could learn, and there's definitely more fat pad to lose from my belly, so it's something I certainly will try again, perhaps in the doldrums of February.

The Itching!

Although my Xmas beard seems to be growing fairly well directed away from the skin, rather than curling back into it, I've experienced some terrible scratching sensation this week. Stroking seemed to drive the root into nerve endings like little thorns. Or maybe it's a lever action, splitting that layer of the epidermis. Anyway, it seems that the new wave of epithelium, unaffected by shaving, has surfaced to a depth that interacts with the hair follicles.

In response, rather than dabbing a little lather on my cheeks and neck, I brought out the No. 6 brush, Pre de Provence No. 63, and gave my whole beard a good scrub. As I've previously noted, itching is the result of over-expansion of deep tissue, relative to the surface. Glycerin swells the outer crust to match. I think I'm through the worst of it, now.

Locking in my soap choices

Regardless, PdP No. 63 had to be cut out of the ceramic dish near my sink, and Fine Green Vetiver chopped to take in its place. When I tried the old knuckle maneuver, Fine just flaked apart like fudge (very, very hard fudge), so I figured I'd save my digits the pain. It pressed quite well into its new home, though; even bettter than the PdP went back into its old tin.

A home was conveniently provided for WTP Lime Burst by the manufacturer. I just pressed with thumbs near the edge to widen the puck tight to the wall of the container.

With triple-milled soap especially, it's a lot more satisfactory to have a vessel containing the water that isn't initially thick enough to be drawn into the brush, as you gently stir to dissolve soap. To do it with Williams requires a tiny cup, which may leave you rattling your brush handle. Might as well use your hand. A container filled to the rim is easily spilled, and no good for running the liquid out of the brush for further concentration. Half-filled containers are just right.

What The Puck?! I'm Getting Old

Ah, sweet olfactory relief! Anticipation was killing me. The Black Friday sale at Italian Barber allowed me to get some soaps I've been curious about, and restock the Sensitive Skin varieties I've already grown to love.

I'll be testing them on my cheeckbones and neck, because I've decided to do the opposite of Mo' Shave November, and grow a beard for Xmas. The beard's eventual removal might leave me soft and vulnerable to nicks on my chin, but I want to see if I can thicken the stratum corneum, for better texture, by letting the skin replace its cells under zero stress. Then, I will severely restrict the glycerin from soap, as outlined in the previous post. A moon face will brighten my New Year, as sure as the bald spot reorganizing on my crown. Though it feels almost as velvety as the rest of my head, and I'm not giving up, I can easily see the lack of density.

Fine Green Vetiver

I don't know anything about vetiver -- I read that it's a fragrant grass, but who knows what other fragrances are in this soap. It's an integral accord, with an odor I would describe as archetypal. I can't directly recall any personal contact with this scent, yet it is exactly what I would expect fancy soap to smell like. A decidedly soapy smell. To pair it with a visual form, this is what I would expect the shaving soap from Vermont Country Store to smell like. I don't feel like I have to seek out De Vergulde Hand anymore, either. (Do comment with comparisons, if you happen to own either.)

The lather doesn't invoke the same chemical magic as Tabac, which once again seems accidentally related to that soap's relatively controversial fragrance. But Fine is technically enhanced somehow. This stuff lathers into shaving cream, pure and simple. Man, if this had been my first soap, what a snob I would have become! You really can't see the bubbles, and there is no working up to it, either. Performance overall, I won't really know until I can pull a stroke longer than an inch. But it protected my neck well enough from a dull Cloud blade today, and was significantly gentler to my skin than Art of Shaving Sandalwood.

Which reminds me of my visit to AoS, and my impression of their Vetiver Citron cologne: "too refined for me." This soap is not. It's every bit as subdued, but it doesn't try to distinguish itself in any way. Definitely unisex. A rich man's Williams? There is no need to consider pairing with aftershave, unless you WANT to smell like soap, as this will duck out of the way, whatever you wear. I tried to dilute Eau De Quinine to where it could synergize, and still lost it. Fine Green Vetiver denies the reality of other, more exciting shaving soaps and just expects you to forsake them as false. As if it came from a time when no other shaving soaps existed, or God's own bathroom.

What the Puck?! It's Shaving Soap!

But other soaps do exist, and three very new, fresh ones were included in this order. From Fine Green Vetiver, up in God's bathroom, I came down to Earth with Razorock Lime Burst, a scent that can only be described as the best lime candy you never had.

This is just sniffing the puck, mind you. I'm actually afraid of this soap, unsure of what glycerin's position in the ingredient list, and the strong fragrance, means for my skin. "Triple milled"? A well-homogenized soap it is, but suspiciously, slightly translucent. Like candles I might not want to light. I'm really putting my faith in Italy, because it looks like Italian Barber turned around and exported something this time: everything they learned from How To Grow A Moustache. Smells like late adolescent spirit!

Lime is the one for me: my first favorite flavor as a kid, my first deodorant, my first shaving cream. The blue smells like hairspray to my nose, and not a man's -- but I do get the "barbershop." Orange is the smell of the Glade air freshener people once used to cover pot smoke in dorm bathrooms. Actually much better than that (strictly fruity, completely lacking the cinnamon), and a close contender for my trial, but after sniffing everything for like, 20 joy-filled minutes, it came down to associations.

I pushed this soap by making wet lather, wetter than the marketer meant it to be (judging by isntructions in the online product desciption, which I never had any intention of following). It performed a lot like Williams, that way; which is a good thing, to me. It's as flexible as Kiss My Face moisture shave, in this regard, but not as moisturizing; and with the strong scents, that's probably the best comparison I can make. I had a new Cloud, and my Slim set one notch too high, and nicked my neck in a previously bumped spot on my Adam's apple. I then turned it down, and got some skip on pick-ups. On the other hand, I appreciated how the low, yet undrying lather showed the cheek line of my beard.

This ought to be everyone's first hard puck. It takes a step back to the over-enthusiastic days of glycerin base, but doesn't go all the way. Coconut oil as balm, bay rum Witch Hazel splash, English Leather for dressing up: these are what I would send back through time, to my high-school dopp kit.

Hair For Xmas

Yes, I think I've finally decided to let the growing commence once again, my scalp having received the full benefit of purification through prolonged shaving. It's not easy to let that stubble back out, in the evening! I eased into it with a mostly WTG shave from "Chaoying," yesterday, so today it isn't too itchy or scratchy.

Doing the Dry

There are certain physical elements of health, which shaving has helped me know better, the main one being how moisturizing relates to inflammation. But there's so much more to it, involving the proper flow of natural moisture from within to the skin surface, through soluble fiber in the diet. For the best shave, I need:

Beans at dinner
Exfoliating soap or other treatment at bedtime
Dry (i.e., not moisturizing, only wet) shaving soap

Probably some extra steep oil and salt gradients drive that flow, also, for the really miraculous shaves, but those are not quite under my command -- yet. This week, however, I cleared up my crusty follicles most strikingly by the means listed. After gorging on an unusually successful pot-sticker with canned pintos, I woke up with incredibly soft skin.

The thing is, I have these amazingly well-scented soaps with a lot of fragrance oil and glycerin, that make shaving-porn lather, and bait me into getting "aggressive" just by prep. Not that they're objectively poorly formulated. They even feel right during the shave, in the way the edge reaches easily to the root, because my skin is effectively being chemically decomposed. But they are definitely excessive for me.  In the post-shave, or indeed the next shave, I find consistently that I have once again prevented nature from working with me.

Year-round Luxury Plan

With this in mind, I'm determined to restrict PdP No. 63 to occasional spring and fall use, like Stirling is restricted to summertime. It's too bad, because that cedar scent could probably rock all winter long. I have three of the new hard soaps from Italian Barber coming, hopefully to take the coveted "triple milled" spot in the ceramic dish on my countertop. XXX formula duro is already on the job as far as luxurious scent, but I can tell even that's pushing it for glycerin now. Special occasions, winter.

Recipe for a Crap Shave?

I shaved a good many weepers this morning, a very odd occurrence. I didn't see them, just smelled the blood. But I knew pretty soon into ATG that something was very wrong. At depth, the blade was finding resistance from something other than hair, which yet had point distribution like hair, and no sensation. Thickening of the follicle wall? Some odd developmental state of the root? I had to switch back to WTG to get it out of the buttresses.

Oh yes -- I shaved through it. No stabbing, I figured it couldn't be too bad, and kept my pitch low. (Numb fuck! But it actually did turn out okay, this time. Aftershave felt nicer than usual.) My lather was challenging me a little, my VDH/KMF croap, mixed a bit thin it seemed, and it wanted to dry out.

Then I have to think back to things I've done lately, in preceding shaves, of which this might have been the consequence. Wasn't it a cold water, PdP No. 63 shave, before this?  And I put the Nizoral on my bald spot(s) before bed. Could that have come around to my chin, though?

I think the relatively high glycerin content of the PdP (my limit), maybe irritants in the fragrance. And propylene glycol in the croap couldn't soften the plaques of dried out shit It's not easy to track things down, when you change practically everything, every day. But maybe I'll figure out something new. Since I get pretty great shaves most days, maybe asking how -- precisely -- to screw up a shave is the most efficient experimental approach.