August 30, 2005
I’ve been watching the BBC comedy “Little Britain” on DVD (a friend gave me the European PAL discs because I’ve got a dual-zone DVD player, but it just came out on NTSC DVD for the US and Canadian markets) and I’m in love. This has got to be the most brilliant show since “The Office”. It was recommended to me by a UK playboy I met in Lapland, Sweden who’s dated even more famous models and celebrities than I have, so I took him at his word and am I glad I did — this is my new favorite show.
One of the most amazing things about LB is how uncanny Matt Lucas’s female impersonations are — he’s hands down the most believable woman I’ve ever seen a guy do. Really, it’s unbelievable.
“How does he do it?” I said as I watched the DVD with beloved wife the other day.
“He’s got no facial hair — no facial hair, no five o’clock shadow,” beloved wife explained.
And she’s right, as usual. We’d watched an interview with Matt and his comedy partner David Walliams, and Matt’s got no hair. On his head. At all. I’m not sure if he’s got alopecia or something along those lines, but the guy’s completely hairless. Not even any eyebrows. He’s a round, hairless comedic genius.
But it got me thinking. If a guy has no facial hair whatsoever, then by definition he’s always got the perfect shave. I’m talking a perfectly pink face, without even a trace of those little black whisker dots I’ve always got even after the closest and most aggressive shaves. When I’m doing on-camera work I can mostly hide them with heavy makeup like most men on TV, but without makeup I have a slight shadow even right after a shave with my closest razor. So do you, probably, and it drives you nuts, right? Get over it. You’re not eleven anymore.
Still, a permanent perfect shave is almost worth not having any other hair on your body. David Walliams, the other half of Little Britain, does female characters as well, but good as he is, and he’s off-the-charts good, he always looks like a guy doing a gal because of his whisker dots.
On the other hand, no facial hair means never shaving. Which raises the question, do I love to shave with a badger brush, a vintage Injector, and wonderful smelling English shaving cream because it stands on its own as a pleasurable and relaxing ritual, or because it’s something I have to do anyway, so I may as well take pleasure in optimizing and maximizing the experience? If I didn’t have to shave, ever, would I miss it? Or would I just rub my perfectly hairless, porcelain face all day and never give another thought to silvertip badger hair or Trumper’s Violet cream again?
My best of both worlds would be zone-limited alopecia — just the areas where I shave, leaving all other bodily hair intact — for the porcelain skin thing, but I’d pretend-shave with a brush, cream, and bladeless Injector. Hell, why not a Feather disposable blade straight razor without a blade? I could finally feel like a shaving He-Man!
Today’s He-Man shave was my last with a Feather Professional blade in my Injector. This grade of blade works very well, but after a couple of shaves with it, I don’t think it’s really any better than the stock Schick blades, to be honest. it’s excellent, but so are they, and they’re cheaper and easier to find. Even Amazon sells ‘em, for cheap.
I do think Feather’s Professional Super blades, the El Jefe grade, are the most ungodly sharp and close-cutting blades I’ve ever used in my Injector, so I’m going back to them for my daily shave. I got an excellent shave today with the lesser Pro blades, but I don’t want merely excellent anymore. I want ungodly. I get that routinely from the Pro Supers when they’re clipped down to fit in my Injector. So that’s what I’ll use from now on, until Andy Samuels hunts down an even scarier blade to blow our minds with.