Thread: Why Shave Straight

A friend from out of town was over and took note of the hanging strop in my bathroom. He asked me the question I’m sure we’ve all heard on plenty of occasions: “Why shave with a straight razor?”

Before I could answer, he volunteered a possible answer of his own, in the form of the question, “Oh, is it because of the economy? I think I paid almost $20 for my last pack of disposable Fusion razors. I guess shaving with the same razor every day forever must save you a bundle over the years.”

And yes, I did laugh politely at his sweet naivete. Of course, in theory, he was absolutely correct. But, since I’m always hopeful that some of my M3 friends may make the switch – simply so we can trade tales of great razors, or perhaps trade the razors themselves – I didn’t bother to stickershock him with the cost of a Norton 8K, let alone a nice custom, nor did I wish to overwhelm him with the realization that yes, Virginia, I actually have more than one (to say the least).

Instead, I prepared us some coffee, and spent a good deal of time thinking about my reply before we sat on the patio, where I told him the real reasons why I shave straight:

Shaving with a straight connects you to the past, to a traditional ritual comprised of indispensable components, not unlike a Japanese tea ceremony. It’s no surprise that one of the greatest works of English literature, Ulysses, by James Joyce, begins with an image of shaving:

“Stately plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed….”

Buck presents the familiar shaving set-up in the fashion of a priest, both emulating and parodying the rites of Catholic Mass. The act of producing lather is transformed into an act of transubstantiation – and this everyday practice of simply shaving one’s face is treated to an air of penetrating pomp and religiosity.

If you are of a certain age, shaving with a straight also evokes a more personal form of historical narrative – connecting you to childhood memories of your father or grandfather. No boy has ever watched his father shave with a straight without having been filled with wonder. (Which is the reason why all straight shavers with children have the good sense to keep their blades locked up in a box – or at least they should!)

While the Fathers of our country had wigs to keep powdered, and while in other cultures around the world, men adorn themselves with any manner of tribal garb or jewelry, in our contemporary American culture, the majority of men have relatively few outlets for personal grooming or adornment beyond minimalism. The pattern of your tie; a wristwatch; a wallet or moneyclip; your choice of aftershave; a wedding ring; and the list quickly peters out.

When my wife retires to the bathroom to apply make-up from tubes, bottles and compacts, equipped with brushes and rollers and the rest of her arsenal, I confess I’ve always been a bit jealous. Not because I wish to wear make-up. No. It’s the time. That time she has in that room, alone, accompanied only by her image in the mirror and the skill in her hand, and in her eyes. It seems like a very special time – a time that while it is focused on the superficial, at least creates a worry-free time of day in which all other cares are pushed aside. When you’re applying mascara to the razor-thin lid of your eye, you had better keep all other cares pushed aside.

Shaving with a modern safety razor like a Gilette Fusion is fine. Utilitarian. Gets the job done. In and out. No fuss. No muss. But what about the “out” part of “in and out”? Once you’re done, you’re in your clothes and back to… back to what? The stack of bills? The inbox? Work, chores, all of life’s demands, queued up and ready for you the moment you step from that sanctuary.

In straight razor shaving, I found a sanctuary. It takes far longer than a minute. I get to stay “in” far longer; and, far more profoundly, I'm able to remain "in" far longer before I return to the “out.”

The ritual can be both involved and intoxicating. But more than anything else, the word I can best use to describe it is immersive. Driving an automatic transmission sedan is not immersive. There’s a reason why so many people text and drive or talk and drive (or drink and drive). People feel they can get away with it, because driving a car like that is just so damn easy and effortless. There’s room for a bit of error. Make a slip with a Mach 3 and know what? You’ll be fine. Just push the button on your Edge gel – and out will come perfect lather, same every time, can after can. Modern cars, like modern razors, have cruise control. Easy, breezy, in and out.

But straight shaving is dangerous. You are literally walking the razor’s edge every single time. Not even the most seasoned pro can deny that the sting of the razor is always one faint nerve twitch away. It is indeed a deeply immersive practice. First, you must be fully conscious when stropping. Why? Because if your mind wanders, you nick your blade and you nick your strop. Strops are expensive. Razors are, too. You can bang the hell out of a Fusion on the porcelain sink. But let your mind travel to the grocery list, or to the speech you have to give later that day, and you just smoked your strop and/or razor. Needless to say, once the razor makes its way to your throat, letting your mind wander can have far dearer consequences. There’s no automatic pilot here. No cruise control. No safety net.

No, you are trapped – and for the duration of this ritual you must be fully present, fully alive. When else can you say this? Even in the most intense conversation – perhaps with a critically important client or boss, or with the object of your affection – your mind is permitted to wander for a moment. Even watching the most engrossing films, I find myself occasionally scratching my wrist or pausing to notice the gumwad some jerk has left on the seatback in front of me.

But with a razor to your throat – or an inch from your eye – or at the corner of your lip – or sailing just within reach of your dangling earlobe – you needs must fully be there. Completely alive. Focused. Present and accounted for.

It is my time of day to be most focused and alert, with the most crystalline awareness of myself and my immediate surroundings. I’ve flown a plane before, but even then, you only really have that sensation of presence when you’re taking off or landing, or when some nasty turbulence really kicks in and requires you to put your life into your hands.

I thought of a few other reasons to tell my friend, too. For instance, although I don’t have any hard statistics to back this up, I’ve noticed from the forum that not a small number of straight razor shavers also collect other blades – knives, swords, etc. Some may also collect other boy toys, like guns, compound bows, etc. These may be enjoyed aesthetically, but except for those moment when you’re actually out hunting, we never get to actually use these acquisitions (thankfully so, I might add!), and so we’re confined to enjoying them aesthetically. Polishing and oiling them from time to time. Perhaps taking them out to show off to our friends. But a razor can have just as much history and workmanship – and also get put to use – daily – and in the most intimate fashion.

It is the immersive, ritualistic aspect that draws me most to straight razor shaving. The time that I spend shaving truly feels like time I have gained, rather than time I have lost. It is my time. Mine alone. And this time truly does have a transubstantiated quality – one in which I feel pointedly, and most gloriously, present and alive.

Well, I think you've said all that can be said..... I don't think anyone can add much more. I guess there will be a few that only shave with a straight because they think it's cool or badass or whatever. I think that's very unfortunate as they will never understand the true zen experience that comes with straight razor shaving.

Well said....

I take my first past on these forums to say thank you for that. That was very well said. I've bees using a straight for a few months now and I always look forward to the peace that I can get while shaving. It really is an amazing, relaxing ritual.

edit: second post... i dont remember having posted before.

When I go fishing or play a game of toss with a ball and glove, I am doing an act that never ages. It is the same act I did then as I do now. Time stops for me. Shaving with a straight does the same. Maybe I can't explain it, but when I was a kid, with my line in the water and the hope I reel in anything other than a crab. The smell of the leather from a baseball glove, grass under my toes. The sound of a crack off a wood bat. Bazooka Joe. Yankees Win! I can go out to my back yard and be 10 years old again. The smell of saltwater and the taste of beef jerkey takes me back to when I was fishing as a boy. Straight shaving does a similar thing to me- hard to explain. Time just stops. I'm sure you guys get what I'm saying.

“Stately plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed….”

yes I said yes I will yes!

Man you made my night quoting Joyce.

It is easily one of the most accessible and useful hobbies about.

It's just one of those things you either understand, or you don't.

When I started I thought one or two of my friends in particular might take and interest, but they haven't. It's a shame really.

My wife and I live with her parents and brothers, all Thai. They only have to shave maybe once every three months. I started because I thought it would make me look more manly in front of their effeminately smooth faces. After I learned the pure pleasures associated with the razor which you have described I also leaned that my wife's family feel sorry for me in that they think this is something that I have to do every day. They can never realize that this is something that I want to do every day.

All very true but would like to add one additional thing. The straight can do something for me that nothing else that I have ever used can acocmplish - it can get right up there under the nose and can keep my sideburns even. My old electrics could never do that let alone provide an adequate shave, the disposables were too flimsy to do either. The Fusion does have a blade on the back of the cartridge, but due to the size of the cartridge it can't manuver under there and has a hard time getting the side burns straight.

It all takes me back!

I love this post and the responses. What we have in common is this nearly inexplicable fondness for an act that, as gregs says, is accessible and useful. Trying to make it explicable is not easy, but mrgad did a great job.

Best to all