I am not the kind who gets all fuzzy over personal stories but here is a lifelong experience with shaving. It goes from childhood to adult life in the army and beyond. A good shaving story is always a good read so here it is. Maybe some day I'll post mine too. Maybe.
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My father taught me how to shave when I was 13. At age 26 that means I have been shaving for half of my life. He taught me to shave with a single blade Schick razor, a cup of shaving soap and a soap brush. The first aftershave I used was old spice. My dad, who had always worn a beard, taught me the simple art of shaving when it became evident that I was going to be the only seventh grader at Thomas Jefferson Middle School with a beard. I had become a long haired, mustached, young man while my peers were pre-pubescent, hairless kids. By 8th grade I was shaving every 2 to 3 days. I gained a reputation in my freshman year at Teaneck High School as the only one with a goatee. My beard was shaped evenly and beautifully. My man hairs were evenly trimmed and well manicured as I shampooed and conditioned them every morning before school.
When I was 15, my friends and I would walk to a movie theater a few miles over in the next town. On the way there we would always stop at a deli, "The Greek Deli" as it was known to us, where I would go in, sporting my manly chin hair. It never failed as I would emerge every time with brown bags full of beer ready for teenage consumption. Cigarettes, forget about it! I could buy cigarettes at any store in America with this beard. I was proud of my facial hair, and I flaunted it wildly. A few other people in my high school had grown goatees by senior year, but I was the first, I was the original. I was the O.G. of facial hair.
After high school I experimented briefly with connecting my sideburns to make a full goatee. I do not think that this was the best look for me, and I could never really get them to be even on both sides. I shaped my beard up myself, and it never dawned on me that I could spend a few bucks and have a barber make them look really good. I would have one straight and one slightly curved. It was around this time that a certain female convinced me to shave off my facial hair entirely. It is amazing the things us men do for women. My chin skin had not seen the light of day in years. My face would be incomplete without a puff of furry love at the bottom. As I emerged from the upstairs bathroom that fateful day, the wind beating my smooth pale chin, cold, naked. I felt incomplete. My family stared in horror at my face, gasping at the harsh reality that an era had ended and a new day had begun.
My girlfriend, who would later become my fiancee, then my wife, then my ex wife, as any beard-stealer should become, stood smiling a smug smile. Content with her dirty work, proud to have a smooth chinned man, she touched the scaly skin of my chin, gave me a kiss, and proclaimed her happiness. My friends were heartbroken by our loss. Gone were the days when my friends could run their fingers through my chin hairs for good luck. Gone were the days of the french tickler. Mustache rides were never to be given again.
However, change is constant, and we soon adapt to new things in our lives. I grew to appreciate my new found chin liberation. As I grew older the goatee that I had once needed became obsolete as I could drink legally. I looked a little more sophisticated and less like a criminal, which, I guess is a good thing. Gone were the days of bloodshot eyes, Hawaiian shirts and a dirty chin making me look like a Cuban drug runner. I would now don a blazer and slacks, shave my chin bare and laugh it up with high society over a martini. However, chin shaving is different than cheek shaving. Especially with the cleft in my chin. While not too defined, it is enough for me to have to use several different angles to shave.
Many people say that shaving in downward strokes is best for your face, but we all know that to get a complete shave one must shave up, down, sideways, circles, whatever. I tried shaving with an electric razor briefly, but that left me with a permanent 5 o'clock shadow. Plus figuring that my 5 o'clock shadow starts to show around 2:30 that would make it pretty much a useless thing to shave with an electric shaver.
In 2003, as many of you who have read my other articles know, I joined the Army. Luckily for me I was already used to shaving a lot. The Army made you shave everyday, no matter how much or how little facial hair you had. I had been shaving almost everyday for the last few years, so there was very little adjustment needed. I can remember one evening after a long day of training, the Drill Sergeant walking through our formation as we stood at attention. He was inspecting our uniforms, our haircuts, our faces. He stopped in front of me. At 5pm, my 5 o'clock shadow looked like about an 8 o'clock shadow now. "Nygard, did you shave today?!?!" "Yes Drill Sergeant!!" "Well you're gonna have to start shaving twice a day or something you hairy........!!!" I didn't start shaving twice a day, but it was pretty funny to see the Drill Sergeants reaction.
When I went to Afghanistan in 2006, shaving became a little more adventurous, sometimes even a painful ordeal. If there is one thing about the army, it's that no matter where you are, you WILL shave everyday. Now of course there are exceptions. In some places, mountaintops for example, where you sit for 30 days with two other soldiers, you may not need to shave, at least not everyday. Special Forces soldiers often wear beards so they can blend in with locals. But the majority of soldiers, in the field or in garrison, shave everyday. I can remember waking up to the sound of mortars being fired at our base, running out to our guns, firing back, and walking in to get some water when the attack was over and my Platoon Sergeant telling me to "go shave your face dammit!!".
In Afghanistan I shaved everyday. When we were out on missions sitting in a hole with no bathrooms or running water, I would shave in the rearview mirror of a Humvee with an electric razor. I had a very cheap electric razor that tore my neck to shreds. It left my neck red and bumpy with ingrown hairs. When we were back in the base I would on occasion shave with my Mach-3 razor blade in the latrines. The water smelled like a sewer and there were about 50 guys crowding in their to use the five sinks that actually worked that day, but my face would thank me later for my thoughtfulness by not burning for the rest of the day.
I remember in June of 06 right before I went home on leave for two weeks, I got the best shave of my life. I was at Ali-Salem Air Base in Kuwait.
I got a haircut in the base barbershop and a straight razor shave. I have only had a straight razor shave several times in my life, but these are by far the best shaves ever. A good barber, with a steady hand and a lot of experience is what you need. I came home the next day and my face was still smooth, my hairline was crisp, my sideburns, well they were gone as my scalp and hair blended together in true perfection. Even after a 16 hour flight I was silky smooth.
Even now, after leaving the Army behind, I shave everyday except Sundays and some holidays. My wife now loves the feel of my face after I've shaved with a brand new Mach-3. The triple foil baby!! I went from using gel to using Barbasol. I think that shaving cream gives a closer shave, as opposed to the Gillette Shaving Gel. Something about cold slimy gel oozing down my face as I shave gives me the creeps.
My daughter is 10 months old. Sometimes I stroke her legs, or her face, and I think to myself, was I really this smooth at one time? Between my genes and my wife's, our daughter is in for some hairy times ahead. The poor girl doesn't know what lies before her on her road to adulthood. Waxing the upper lip, plucking the eyebrows, shaving those legs. Maybe someday she will be writing her own article about her experiences with a pink Lady Bic. As I sit here at my desk stroking my chin, its 2pm and the stubble is already starting to form, I can't wait for Sunday. I'll wake up late, lay around, let my face breathe instead of being all plugged up from shaving creams, after shave lotions. No razor will run over this neck, leaving it pink and gasping for breath.
Monday morning will be another experience though, as my sink fills with the black, powder like residue that washes off of my razor as once again I go through my daily routine of clearing the brush all in the name of beauty!!
