Reflections on Pearl Harbor Day

Here at SRP, we are a diverse lot. If anything says that clearer than our choice of shave gear, it would be our individual shave caves. Many like myself are content to have just a place for our stuff and leave it at that. My gear has for years taken up most of the left side of my bathroom counter and the drawers and cabinets underneath. When the title wave of soap, aftershave and other assundries becomes too prodiguous for SWMBO's delicate sensitivities she moves some of the gear to overflow parking on the shelf of a linen closet where we keep towels and such. Other handier fellas go in for lavishly decorated den's of masculine indulgence complete with custom made razor cabinets, barber chairs, rotating barber poles, works of taxidermy, back issues of Field and Stream magazine and cigar humidors. My purpose tonight isn't to advocate one style over another. Obviously on some level, whatever you have works for you so keep on rockin'!

What brings me here tonight is to share some pictures I received today in an email entitled "Who Says Men Can't Decorate?" Unfortunately these aren't pictures from my own humble shave cave. What I will conceed however is that whoever was responsible for these wonderful works of art and function are truly men of genius, truly deserving of a tip of the Panama. So without further adieu:

Shave Cave Sink-- How cool would this be complete with foam cutouts for your razors and brushes in the upper drawers and soap and aftershave in the deeper drawers?


Shelves and lamps


And of course a modified thrown suitable for hours of comfortable reading without the discomform of numbness in the legs.


And talk about a peach of a decanter!


Not exactly shave cave material but this bed is really cool and immediately put me in mind of Sailor. This one's for you, Brother!


But alas, I'm a creature of habit (not to mention a married man). I can certainly appreciate the genius of the men who made this stuff but can honestly say none of this is coming to a shave cave near me anytime soon. Except perhaps the decanter (mine will be a Maker's Mark bottle). Every since the pistachio nut incident when I was about 18, Black Jack Daniels (even an empty bottle) gives me the chicken skin and the dry heaves. Ciao!