A close shave
12th March 2009
It all used to be pretty simple. You’d have a cutthroat razor which you kept honed to perfection on a leather strop. They lasted for decades. The only drawback was that in the hands of the very drunk or the very stupid they could live up to their name, but no one cared; if you killed yourself while trying to scrape unwanted hair from your face it was probably inferred that your life was hardly worth living anyway.
I’m an electric gizmo chap. A pack of cheap Bic disposables lurks somewhere in the bowels of the house in case I forget to recharge the Philishave, although this hasn’t happened yet. And how close is my shave? Well, you see, that’s just the point. I have no idea. I run the machine over my flabby jowls and end up with a face that looks shaved to me. Could I find a device that cuts off a little bit more? Possibly, but why should I want to? What does it matter? What benefit will result if I do and what detriment do I now suffer because I don’t? The answer of course is that it makes no difference to anything.