Thread: Stretching and Blade Angle

Hello, Northpaw:

Thank you for sharing your thoughts, and for the diagram.

Regards,

Obie

Thanks for the post Obie. I also have some weird hair direction to contend with and I've had some of the same and similar discoveries. My shaving learning curve seems to be, like my honing and stropping, consisting of plateaus. I will be going along as usual with my hit and miss technique and one day an epiphany will come to me of a different angle of attack and/or stretch. Some shaves turn out better than others but more often than not I find a spot or two that could have been shaved closer. Usually the operator rather than the razor in my case.

Originally Posted by niftyshaving

Sorry I got lost some place in the recreation
of a simulation of a blasted scimitar's
arc mowing down a horde of dense briers
protecting a tar laden wabbit.

Hello again, niftyshaving:

I can't forgive myself for your getting lost. I hope you find your way.

Regards,

Obie

Originally Posted by JimmyHAD

Thanks for the post Obie. I also have some weird hair direction to contend with and I've had some of the same and similar discoveries. My shaving learning curve seems to be, like my honing and stropping, consisting of plateaus. I will be going along as usual with my hit and miss technique and one day an epiphany will come to me of a different angle of attack and/or stretch. Some shaves turn out better than others but more often than not I find a spot or two that could have been shaved closer. Usually the operator rather than the razor in my case.

Hello, Jimmy:

Good to hear from you. Thank you for your clear thoughts. I know exactly what you mean.

Something else I have discovered is this: The type of razor I use sometimes calls for a slight variation in my pattern. Do you find that, too?

I envy men whose beard grows in an orderly direction.

Stay well.

Regards,

Obie

Originally Posted by Obie

Ladies and Gentlemen:

Sometimes facial hair grows in such a jumble of confused paths and detours that shaving with a straight razor feels like driving zigzag in rush hour traffic.

Since any attempt to reason with the unruly stubble is like trying to serve a bloody prime rib to a vegetarian, shaving it off requires an arsenal of well-tested maneuvers in skin stretching and razor angle. In recent weeks, I have improvised a number of such moves to finally defeat the patches of revolutionary fuzz that have plagued me since I shaved with Louis XIV.

Tiny bushes of stubborn hair on my neck, for instance, sweep in a wild burst of misdirection without any obvious reason or logic. They jolly well go wherever they please despite my frustration. Some go this way, some that way. Hello . . . ? Trying to get a good shave down there without cutting your throat makes avoiding a heart attack a miracle.

All this has been cause to scratch my head occasionally and wonder why anyone in his or her right mind would choose a straight razor instead of taking the easy route and chugging along on a plastic cartridge razor. Well, that blasphemous thought has lasted about as long as a wet sneeze.

As if the mischievous neck were not bad enough, I also have a sliver of ornery stubble on the right side of my cheek which arcs like a scimitar northward from about the middle of the jaw to just below the sideburn. I’ve asked the Universe about the reason for such infraction on my Hollywood face, especially since most of the hair on the right cheek heads southward in a civil manner. Thus far all I have from the said Universe is an invisible shrug. Like that really helps. Could be because I generally sleep on my right side. Then again, that might make too much sense for the Universe.

Despite every imaginable variant on skin stretching in that area I failed to float off the shaving stage giddy with my fine performance. I managed slightly better results from the double edge razor, but hardly worth a big prize. Yet, there had to be a solution on how to mow down the rebellious scimitar. After all, it was not exactly research into isolating certain isotopes. It was just shaving. I tried. Tried again. And again. Then I found the answer.

The only way I could be rid of the blasted scimitar was to place four fingers on the cheekbone, in the first pass with the grain, and stretch the skin toward the uppermost part of the bridge on my nose — the little dimple that drops down from the forehead. That move, then, had to be reinforced by the razor’s angle moving horizontally on a slight diagonal with the point leading. Also, I lifted the spine a little more than usual. I finished off the scimitar on the second pass, across the grain, stretching from the right ear toward the back of the head and keeping the blade flexible to maneuver in microscopic variations.

It worked, by Jove. The day of my conquest I walked around gloating as if I had won the Nobel Prize for literature, with my right hand caressing my right cheek as if it were a lover’s.

But I was not done. There was still the neck area. I had already tried moves northward against the grain on a slight diagonal, which helped somewhat, but left me a long way to go. On the neck, just below the jaw line, the thick stubble grows toward the ear on each side. For heaven’s sake, what kind of nonsense is that? This was not much of a problem with a double edge: I came at each side of the neck horizontally from the ear to the neck. With a straight edge, that move tends to inspire a bucket of nervous perspiration. Yet it had to be.

By stretching the skin from the jaw line up and then angling it toward the earlobe, I approached the stubborn bush under the jaw with the razor placed diagonally and shaving in a horizontal direction. Here I had to take extreme care, especially with the “dreadnought” and the Spanish point razors, to avoid carving a bloody line into my neck. That worked, too, especially when I carefully inched the blade on the neck under the chin. I have not quite refined this move yet, but it seems to be the ideal solution for me to clear that spot.

For me, a straight razor shaving pilgrim, my technique evolves continuously. Since face, beard growth and razor technique are different from one shaver to another, I have also realized, after some years of shaving with a straight razor, the best move is what works best for the individual shaver.

Like jazz, the straight razor improvises around the theme.

Regards,

Obie

Wonderful post. I'm facing down the start of a very similar path. Under my jaw, my hair seems to grow from the left side of my face, all the way around to the right. So I've been practicing the motions with my Shavette (minus the blade) and I think I will eventually attempt a ATG from the right to left, carefully stretching the skin, and being wary of my neck.

Originally Posted by Obie

Hello, Jimmy:

Good to hear from you. Thank you for your clear thoughts. I know exactly what you mean.

Something else I have discovered is this: The type of razor I use sometimes calls for a slight variation in my pattern. Do you find that, too?

I envy men whose beard grows in an orderly direction.

Stay well.

Regards,

Obie

I do when I look for it. Sometimes I break out of the pattern of doing what has been working and try something new. Oddly enough I seem to have different whiskers on the right side of my face and neck than on the left. So stretches that work on one side don't necessarily work on the other. Directionally speaking. Getting the map down and learning what works is ongoing. I remember Chris Moss once saying in a post something like, the shavers of bygone days (back in the Sheffield wedge period) probably did one pass and called it good. Like those old fellows some days I go through the motions and call it good and other days I seek perfection.

Originally Posted by freyguy

Wonderful post. I'm facing down the start of a very similar path. Under my jaw, my hair seems to grow from the left side of my face, all the way around to the right. So I've been practicing the motions with my Shavette (minus the blade) and I think I will eventually attempt a ATG from the right to left, carefully stretching the skin, and being wary of my neck.

Hello, Freyguy:

Thank you for your note.

Practicing your motions with a bladeless razor is an excellent idea. I remember at the beginning I did the same thing with a bladeless Feather razor. That type of practice, like rehearsing on stage, is most useful. Well done, sir.

Regards,

Obie

Originally Posted by JimmyHAD

I do when I look for it. Sometimes I break out of the pattern of doing what has been working and try something new. Oddly enough I seem to have different whiskers on the right side of my face and neck than on the left. So stretches that work on one side don't necessarily work on the other. Directionally speaking. Getting the map down and learning what works is ongoing. I remember Chris Moss once saying in a post something like, the shavers of bygone days (back in the Sheffield wedge period) probably did one pass and called it good. Like those old fellows some days I go through the motions and call it good and other days I seek perfection.

Hello again, Jimmy:

Yes, indeed, I agree with everything you say. I, too, am faced with different whisker growth patterns on different sides of my face.

I believe as you that shaving with a straight razor is a continuous learning process. That adds, I think, to the fascinating elements of this art.

Thanks again, Jimmy, for sharing your thoughts.

Regards,

Obie

Thanks for the words of encouragement Obie. I really enjoy the learning process. With each shave, I get better and better results, but at the same time find something else which needs work, or can be done differently.

Originally Posted by Obie

Hello, Freyguy:

Thank you for your note.

Practicing your motions with a bladeless razor is an excellent idea. I remember at the beginning I did the same thing with a bladeless Feather razor. That type of practice, like rehearsing on stage, is most useful. Well done, sir.

Regards,

Obie

Originally Posted by freyguy

Thanks for the words of encouragement Obie. I really enjoy the learning process. With each shave, I get better and better results, but at the same time find something else which needs work, or can be done differently.

My dear Freyguy:

How right you are. One analogy that covers both of us as we continue to learn this craft is this, and I have used it before: You can listen to a Brahms symphony or a piano concerto 50 times and think you've heard all there is to hear in them. Not so. On the 51st hearing — aha! — suddenly you hear something you haven't heard before, say, like a little clarinet that comes out of nowhere.

That's what I find as I continue to sharpen my skills in the art and the craft of straight razor shaving.

Stay well, and thanks again. You are a gentleman, sir, with a great spirit.

Regards,

Obie