The epic fight to save your face, your bank account, and the environment from an endless case of shaving rash
Story and photography by TODD OPPENHEIMER
Stan Hickam's day job is a radiology technician in Kingsport, Tenn., a small town in the Smoky Mountains. By night, he is the chief executive, so to speak, of Above the Tie, which makes one of the world's finest modern examples of a traditional shaving razor.
One evening last November, Mark Herro stepped to the microphone in the mezzanine of The Palmer House, a historic Chicago hotel, and explained how he had become famous. To the small crowd on hand, Herro was better known by his Internet handle, Mantic59, which is attached to a quaint series of youTube videos Herro has produced that do nothing more than show people how to shave. An average of 2,000 people watch Herro’s videos every day, giving his web site a subscriber base of roughly 10,000. The videos have not made Herro rich (although now a youTube “partner,” Herro says that essentially means “I get beer money every month.”). But they have made him a household name among a rapidly growing and fanatical subculture: men, both young and old, who are enthusiastically turning to old-fashioned methods of shaving.
That amounts to a mark-up of 4,750 percent—for a shaving method that, my reporting will show, often causes a host of skin problems that an old-fashioned, single-blade shave can avoid.
This quaint throwback has become so popular in the last few years that, while virtually every other retail sector has suffered, businesses specializing in shaving gear have watched their profits steadily climb. If that assertion strains credulity, just Google the term “wet shaving” and you will find pages of vendors, most of them fairly new, that offer a wide assortment of lathering brushes; exotic soaps and creams; aromatic aftershaves; old-fashioned “safety razors” and their accompanying old-style blades; even ultra-traditional straight razors, some of which sell for thousands of dollars apiece. There is one simple reason why their business has exploded: More and more men are having experiences similar to Mark Herro’s.
Like many men, Herro had always shaved with an electric razor with no real complaints, except for one, from his wife. She “adored” the smooth feel of his freshly shaven face, but by mid-afternoon the scratchy stubble had always returned. Then one morning, in 2004, while the couple was in Las Vegas for a wedding anniversary, “she comes to me with a gleam in her eye and says, ‘Don’t shave today. I have a special anniversary present for you.’” Hours later, Herro found himself lying prone in a barber’s chair, in a new shop called The Art of Shaving, getting cleaned up with a traditional straight razor and dollops of warm, fresh lather. “It was one of those moments when you suddenly take in the experience. The feel, the smell, the heat. The results were so dramatic. I just thought, ‘Wow,” I’ve got to see what this is about.”
A box of the vintage Gillette razors that inspired Hickam’s designs. Most of these are the adjustable models made in the 1950s, which take a single, old-style, double-edge blade. They are considered by many to be the apex of Gillette’s razor designs, yet in their day, they sold for $1 apiece. Today, they’ve become so popular that some of the rarer models can sell for upwards of $400 after they’re shined up.
Leary of the straight razor’s challenges, Herro bought a modern version of the old safety razors. These are the devices that most of us watched our fathers use – those simple, metal contraptions that hold thin, double-edge blades, both usually made by Gillette. As soon as Herro tried this old system, and got another smooth, long-lasting shave, he realized he had discovered a male nirvana: a moment of exquisite, sensual luxury that would actually save him money.
To make matters worse, razor manufacturers have become expert at an old consumer shell game: Whenever you shop for blades, it seems they have just discontinued the model you had last year in favor of a new cartridge, one that is supposedly is better, smoother, faster.
How can this be? The fact is, today’s finest double-edge blades can be found for as little as 40 cents apiece, and most “DE” blades sell for well under half that price. Curiously, the best DE blades are now made in countries that aren’t generally regarded as industrial giants—places like Russia, Poland, Pakistan and Egypt—and the reason turns out to be rather karmic: In the 1970s, after Gillette abandoned DE blade technology (largely because its patent monopolies expired), it started selling off its manufacturing equipment. And scrappy Third World industrialists looking for bargains were all too happy to become buyers. The fine, old-style blades these countries now produce under their own names stand in rude contrast to Gillette’s modern counterparts—those fat, multi-blade cartridges that fill the shelves of today’s drug-store chains. The price of just one of these cartridges is $3 to $4. To make this price even more painful, each cartridge’s manufacturing cost, says one Gillette insider, is less than a dime.
That amounts to a mark-up of 4,750 percent—for a shaving method that, my reporting will show, often causes a host of skin problems that an old-fashioned, single-blade shave can avoid. To make matters worse, razor manufacturers have become expert at an old consumer shell game: Whenever you shop for blades, it seems they have just discontinued the model you had last year in favor of a new cartridge, one that is supposedly is better, smoother, faster—and, of course, loaded with even more blades. At one point this game became so extreme that it was referred to in shaving circles as the great “blade wars.” Sometimes it seemed as though razor makers seemed to cast aside the basic materials of metal and plastic and turn instead to testosterone.
This is Hickam’s warehouse — a rural cabin in the Southwestern corner of Virginia that has been in his wife’s family for four generations. Its internal structure remains the same as when it was first built, in 1783.
In 1998, for example, Gillette released the “Mach3” (for its three blades); then the “Sensor,” which was soon followed, in rapid succession, by the Mach3 Turbo, the Mach3 Turbo Champion, the M3Power, the Mach3 Power Nitro, the Fusion Power Phantom—the list goes on and on. Gillette’s advertising claims for the M3Power, in particular, were so extravagant (supposedly the razor’s cartridge would lift one’s whiskers “up and away from the skin”) that a U.S. District court blocked Gillette’s ads, calling them “literally false.” Razor manufacturers, it seems, may not have not have mastered the art of shaving after all. But they have become undisputable champions in the game of planned obsolescence.
In the summer of 2012, Hickam finally found a machine shop that would take the trouble to make his razor. While there, he met an artistically inclined manufacturing engineer named Ray Duncan, and they set to work on the shop’s granite measuring table, which maintains a flat surface within two millionth of an inch.
None of this has been lost on the Internet sites devoted to shaving that Herro frequents. Most of the participants here happily use vintage DE razors that were manufactured many decades ago, and still work just fine. In fact, some have become so enamored of the simple blades these razors use that they’ve begun hoarding them, fearing the coming of a “shavepocolypse”: the day when Third World countries have so thoroughly embraced the West’s throw-away habits that the only blades on the market will be today’s costly multi-blade cartridges—or one-piece plastic razors that are entirely disposable, which would be a great travesty. Just in this country, some two billion disposable razors already end up in the landfill every year, according to the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency.
Whenever any of this modern shaving gear comes up for discussion, shaving’s traditionalists get pretty grumpy, as exemplified by their response to Schick’s release, earlier this year, of its new “Hydro 5 Power Select.” The razor uses a five-blade cartridge and vibrates while you shave with “an easy-to-read LED screen that communicates visually to clearly distinguish which vibration level is in use.” The Hydro’s arrival was announced on one shaving forum with a simple declaration: “Pack it in, boys. We’ve been had.” Which inspired a commenter to say, “I think the next innovation should be a shotgun shell that’s packed with [double-edge] blades, then you pack them in a 4-10 shotgun and shoot yourself in the face. Bam! Insta-Shave.”
* * *
All of this points to a few fundamental questions: What kind of razor will Gillette come up with next? And why? If the company has such faith in modern multi-blade cartridges, why did its parent company purchase a retro upstart like The Art of Shaving?
Unlike many razor parts, which are screwed or bonded together, Hickam’s are machined out of a single piece of stainless steel. This creates extra precision and strength.
I would propose answering these questions for you, first, within the bowels of Gillette headquarters, in Boston. The Gillette Razor Company was founded here, in 1895, and although the company was absorbed by Proctor & Gamble in 2005, Gillette’s new razor designs continue to be developed at its Boston plant. Whenever Gillette releases a new razor, they boast about the months of research and product testing they’ve done, on thousands of men, in order to certify the validity of the new razor’s miraculous capabilities. A gritty, visually detailed tour through Gillette’s manufacturing and quality control process should be an absolute delight.
For context to Gillette’s story, I would visit an assortment of surrounding characters, many of whom are odd enough to qualify for a carnival of American consumerism.
First among them is King Camp Gillette himself, the man who invented the company’s first safety razor and, in 1905, launched America’s first national advertising campaign. At one point, Gillette became the world’s most well-known man, simply because billions of blade wrappers around the globe were emblazoned with his carefully groomed, moustached image. Strangely, while Gillette was famous for becoming a master capitalist, his real dream was utopian: The world, he believed, should be organized as one, gigantic corporation run collectively by the people, who would live in enormous communal towers. Gillette was so passionate about this idea that he published a book about his vision entitled, “The Human Drift.” The book first appeared in 1894, during his first awkward experiments with razors. But in the years to come, no matter how successful and busy he became with his razor company, he continued returning to his dream—tweaking it, rewriting it, enlisting new partners to help promote it. When Gillette died, in 1932, he was clearly a conflicted man—divested of all but a shred of his razor company, disappointed in the lack of popular interest in his global corporation, but busy nonetheless with a sprawling collection of ranches and mansions, all noticeably private.
The razor’s handles and caps are shaped on lathes and other machinery that date back to World War II.
Another curious character in this subject is Michael Ham, a retired teacher and computer programmer who has become one of the Internet’s most obsessed shavers. In the cabinets of his tiny apartment bathroom, in Monterey, California, Ham keeps sixty or more old-style safety razors, all on display; an equal number of shaving brushes of myriad styles; and an even larger collection of shaving soaps, after-shaves, skin balms and “pre-shave” lubricants. Despite his oddities (or maybe because of them), Ham is a master of precise thought. He is widely read, and blogs daily about all sorts of topics—caffeine, cats, Esperanto, diet, calligraphy, the game of Go—nothing seems to escape his carefully composed exegeses. On the Internet, Ham is generally known by his handle, Leisureguy, because he blogs in this guise about his morning shaves, with a colorful photo featuring each exotic tool he used. This January, for example, soon after Schick released its latest model, Ham published a photo of his preferred razor for the morning, with this comment: “The Gillette NEW, the razor shown in the photo, was introduced in 1929: 83 years ago. As I look at the latest razors today from Gillette and Schick and the like, I experience strong doubts that any will still be used in the year 2095.” Ham self-publishes a book on this hobby called “Leisureguy’s Guide to Gourmet Shaving,” which is now in its fifth edition.
At one point this game became so extreme that it was referred to in shaving circles as the great “blade wars.” Sometimes it seemed as though razor makers seemed to cast aside the basic materials of metal and plastic and turn instead to testosterone.
Then there is Joel Ferman, the wet shaving world’s enfant terrible. Ferman founded Badger & Blade, a leading Internet forum dedicated to traditional shaving. Of the dozen or so discussion sites dedicated to this topic, Badger & Blade has become most notorious for censoring people’s comments. Ferman is a cocky young man in his early thirties, and he has become so reviled that long discussion threads have been created in competing forums to compare notes on why people were banned from Badger & Blade, usually for life, with no explanation; whether Ferman or his forum administrators “stole” money from them; and numerous other insults—not only to a man’s daily shave but also to his ability to engage in the free market. Eventually, Ferman himself responded to one of these threads—with his own attacks, and a few apologies. “I’m not a bad guy,” he wrote. “Believe it or not, I’ve been in your position.” Having been banned from other forums himself, he said he too had “felt the sting of being kicked to the curb.”
* * *
As I hope you can see, this story could be quite an adventure, which could be approached any number of ways. It can be a serious, granular look at the origins and fault lines in our throw-away culture, told through the lives and passions of some colorful characters. Or we can go with a much shorter treatment, where these characters enliven a fun, service feature, on how a man should navigate the myriad choices in today’s morning ablutions. Yet another option is to embrace the fussiness inherent in this subject with a different kind of gusto, perhaps under the following headline: “The Art of Shaving Your Wife’s Legs” (yes, I can explain). In any case, I hope something here captures your editorial team’s interests, and that I will hear from you soon.
REPEAT OF SOME OF ABOVE, JUST TO APPROXIMATE COMING LENGTH:
The textured surface that provides a good grip on a slippery razor is called knurling. Big industrial manufacturers often stamp out these patterns; here, the machinists use the cutting wheels that form the threads on nuts and bolts. Using only one wheel yields a single spiral, a design popularly known as a barber shop pole.
All of this points to a few fundamental questions: What kind of razor will Gillette come up with next? And why? If the company has such faith in modern multi-blade cartridges, why did its parent company purchase a retro upstart like The Art of Shaving?
I would propose answering these questions for you, first, within the bowels of Gillette headquarters, in Boston. The Gillette Razor Company was founded here, in 1895, and although the company was absorbed by Proctor & Gamble in 2005, Gillette’s new razor designs continue to be developed at its Boston plant. Whenever Gillette releases a new razor, they boast about the months of research and product testing they’ve done, on thousands of men, in order to certify the validity of the new razor’s miraculous capabilities. A gritty, visually detailed tour through Gillette’s manufacturing and quality control process should be an absolute delight.
For context to Gillette’s story, I would visit an assortment of surrounding characters, many of whom are odd enough to qualify for a carnival of American consumerism.
The two basic parts of the razor’s head are cut out in a high-tech industrial CNC machine (meaning one with computerized numerical control). These machines offer an extremely high levels of accuracy, but they cannot catch, and get rid of, small burs, rough edges, or scratch marks. That’s why , after all that precision cutting, Lori Smithdeal still uses an old-fashioned buffing wheel. “That also makes each piece a little bit unique,” Hickam says.
In 1998, for example, Gillette released the “Mach3” (for its three blades); then the “Sensor,” which was soon followed, in rapid succession, by the Mach3 Turbo, the Mach3 Turbo Champion, the M3Power, the Mach3 Power Nitro, the Fusion Power Phantom—the list goes on and on.
First among them is King Camp Gillette himself, the man who invented the company’s first safety razor and, in 1905, launched America’s first national advertising campaign. At one point, Gillette became the world’s most well-known man, simply because billions of blade wrappers around the globe were emblazoned with his carefully groomed, moustached image. Strangely, while Gillette was famous for becoming a master capitalist, his real dream was utopian: The world, he believed, should be organized as one, gigantic corporation run collectively by the people, who would live in enormous communal towers. Gillette was so passionate about this idea that he published a book about his vision entitled, “The Human Drift.” The book first appeared in 1894, during his first awkward experiments with razors. But in the years to come, no matter how successful and busy he became with his razor company, he continued returning to his dream—tweaking it, rewriting it, enlisting new partners to help promote it. When Gillette died, in 1932, he was clearly a conflicted man—divested of all but a shred of his razor company, disappointed in the lack of popular interest in his global corporation, but busy nonetheless with a sprawling collection of ranches and mansions, all noticeably private.
In November of 2015, Hickam created the world’s first solid bronze 3-piece razor. The razors are made from a 8-10-foot bars of lead-free bronze that cost nearly $1,000. Hickam uses what’s left of the bar stock to make curvaceous little razor stands that he calls “inkwells.”
[/caption]
Another curious character in this subject is Michael Ham, a retired teacher and computer programmer who has become one of the Internet’s most obsessed shavers. In the cabinets of his tiny apartment bathroom, in Monterey, California, Ham keeps sixty or more old-style safety razors, all on display; an equal number of shaving brushes of myriad styles; and an even larger collection of shaving soaps, after-shaves, skin balms and “pre-shave” lubricants. Despite his oddities (or maybe because of them), Ham is a master of precise thought. He is widely read, and blogs daily about all sorts of topics—caffeine, cats, Esperanto, diet, calligraphy, the game of Go—nothing seems to escape his carefully composed exegeses. On the Internet, Ham is generally known by his handle, Leisureguy, because he blogs in this guise about his morning shaves, with a colorful photo featuring each exotic tool he used. This January, for example, soon after Schick released its latest model, Ham published a photo of his preferred razor for the morning, with this comment: “The Gillette NEW, the razor shown in the photo, was introduced in 1929: 83 years ago. As I look at the latest razors today from Gillette and Schick and the like, I experience strong doubts that any will still be used in the year 2095.” Ham self-publishes a book on this hobby called “Leisureguy’s Guide to Gourmet Shaving,” which is now in its fifth edition.
The bronze set will not retain this golden color, but that’s partly the point. Over time, it takes on a reddish brown patina, reminiscent of an old bronze sculpture.
Then there is Joel Ferman, the wet shaving world’s enfant terrible. Ferman founded Badger & Blade, a leading Internet forum dedicated to traditional shaving. Of the dozen or so discussion sites dedicated to this topic, Badger & Blade has become most notorious for censoring people’s comments. Ferman is a cocky young man in his early thirties, and he has become so reviled that long discussion threads have been created in competing forums to compare notes on why people were banned from Badger & Blade, usually for life, with no explanation; whether Ferman or his forum administrators “stole” money from them; and numerous other insults—not only to a man’s daily shave but also to his ability to engage in the free market. Eventually, Ferman himself responded to one of these threads—with his own attacks, and a few apologies. “I’m not a bad guy,” he wrote. “Believe it or not, I’ve been in your position.” Having been banned from other forums himself, he said he too had “felt the sting of being kicked to the curb.”
* * *
As I hope you can see, this story could be quite an adventure, which could be approached any number of ways. It can be a serious, granular look at the origins and fault lines in our throw-away culture, told through the lives and passions of some colorful characters. Or we can go with a much shorter treatment, where these characters enliven a fun, service feature, on how a man should navigate the myriad choices in today’s morning ablutions. Yet another option is to embrace the fussiness inherent in this subject with a different kind of gusto, perhaps under the following headline: “The Art of Shaving Your Wife’s Legs” (yes, I can explain). In any case, I hope something here captures your editorial team’s interests, and that I will hear from you soon.
Todd Oppenheimer is founding editor and publisher of Craftsmanship Magazine.
The post Occupy Your Bathroom appeared first on Craftsmanship Magazine.