Originally published in the Men's Health MVP Network, May 25, 2015. Part of the Grooming campaign. Illustrations by the author.
Hirsute is a great word — like sharknado, the definition is contained right there in the spelling. No dictionary required. You are wearing a suit made of hair, plain and simple. Sure there are guys whose chests are smooth and bronze like a well hammered shield, but not I. Were it not for modern grooming technology, I would look like Chewbacca.
I'm not ashamed to admit that my beard, unchecked would climb to my eyes and connect under my ears with the hair on the back of my head. But if you met me, you'd have no idea. Unless you really looked closely, like, uncomfortably so. And this is because my bathroom is like a 15th century Japanese daimyo's armory crossed with an Ottoman-era Turkish harem. The finest blades, sharpened to the nanometer; the rarest herbs and botanicals rendered and emulsified into rejuvenating salves and healing tonics in exotic jars of colored glass. And of course, Johnson & Johnson baby powder for the fellas.
As a married man, grooming is more of a courtesy than a mandate. Certainly as a professional, I need to appear at a minimum, sane, if not actually "sharp," in order to convince people to give me money and feel confident about that choice. For purposes of professionalism, I chose a shaved head versus balding because the former connotes decisiveness and will, whereas a thinning hair halo suggests a passive acceptance of aging and the inevitable march towards oblivion. Not good for business.
When I first ditched the "Bozo," I had to get rid of the longish hair. This was not an issue as for years I had been cropping my own, using an infallible adjustable clipper set. At the time it cost about $100 but that was after going through at least five of those cheap plastic numbers you pick up at the drug store with your multi-vitamins and a beach chair. If you buzz your own, go with what the pros use. Plunk down once and get yourself a nice piece of steel — keep it oiled, and it will keep you shorn for life. Head, beard, body. Not the best device for crevice-work but I don't think a man should own a device specifically designed for that; just a personal opinion.
The clipper will take it down to Don Johnson, George Michael Faith level, which I prefer for the beard, but for the dome, I require Savalas-level smoothness. I could probably wait 20 years and achieve it naturally, but as discussed above, I prefer to call the shots as much as possible when it comes to my appearance. For that I was using the Gillette Fusion ProGlide with FlexBall Handle Technology. I found that, true to the claim, it did a nice job on my phrenological irregularities. But I would need a new blade for almost every shave, and that was adding up fast.
Regardless of what blade you drag across your face or head, you have inflicted damage to your skin. Blood or no blood, healing is required. Assuming you are not an amateur, you had a hot shower before attempting to shave and thus opened your pores. Now they must be closed, and your face braced for a day of facing things. For this I chose Kiehl's Facial Fuel Energizing Tonic for Men. It braces, it cools, and refreshes. And then I use Kiehl's Post Shave Repair Gel, which has a very light, almost imperceptible fragrance as opposed to the heavy musks and perfumes of so many other cosMENtics and helps restore the facial (and cranial as the case may be) resilience lost to the blade.
Some men have great opulent beards and mustaches and to them I tip my cap. I unfortunately lack the time or patience to cultivate and curate such adornments, and rather find myself looking to "shave" time off my grooming. The above-named products and methods have helped me in that pursuit, but as age removes hair from my head, it likewise surprises me by relocating it to unexpected and unfortunate new areas of my body. Without my blades and my constant vigilance, I will enter a self-woven cocoon from which I won't emerge a butterfly.