In the year 1904, one of the most incredible inventions of the modern age appeared on the scene: the Gillette “Double Edge” safety razor. With the stroke of King Gillette’s distinctive ingenuity, centuries of vexatious shaving abruptly—and blessedly—came to an end. With the appearance of Mr. Gillette’s marvelous invention, the days of toilsome stropping, honing, and incessant blade warming were suddenly no more. No longer would millions of men be expected to stand in the queue at the local barbershop awaiting the next available pot of hot water and soap.  From now on, men would shave themselves in the privacy of their own bath—forever liberated from the daily barber and the flash of his dreaded “cutthroat” razor.

Every truly important question in shaving ultimately boils down to one fundamental question: comfort or closeness; which one will it be? It is in the successful and predictive reconciliation of these two decisive opposites that the perfect shave is to be found. Indeed, the eternally vexatious trade off between closeness and comfort is so crucial to the elaboration of the general “shaving problem” that I would like to some explore it in more detail. (Some commentators have remarked that my insistence on returning to the “shaving problem” in my writings is really a kind of non-sequitor. In their view I have already solved the problem and should move on to other, more grandiose, shaving projects. However, with millions of men in the world still suffering from “hot face” every morning, I hardly consider the “shaving problem” solved at all).

I'm frequently asked how I discovered my unique method of shaving. Did it all come to me at once, much like a Eureka! experience? Or did it emerge slowly out of the mists of my imagination? Did somebody teach it to me? Or did it involve a slow process of incremental learning until a grand conception finally materialized? Or was I in fact simply born to the role of super talented groomsman to the rich and famous?

Throughout my various writings on the subject of wet shaving, I have frequently examined the factors that determine the quality of a man’s shaving experience. In addition to frequent bits of history, I have generally discussed shaving as an extension of a man’s grooming experience and personal well being.

Charles Roberts hosted a live demonstration of his Hydrolast system of shaving.  We were given the opportunity to film this event at his store, Enchante, in downtown Austin, TX.  In the video Charles covers the principles of cutting forms that he has developed over the years to achieve the best shave possible.  This demonstration clearly shows the level of performance for which his products are formulated, especially for unequaled cutting performance using Feather DE razor blades.

No one knows exactly where or how the miracle of wet shaving originated. It is generally believed that during the 18th century, certain members of the French aristocracy began cutting their beards into various shapes and configurations using hot water and a straight edge. Further adaptations to this crude process soon followed. In London, at about the same time, barbers began giving shaves to wealthy patrons. This worked well, for barbers were the only ones permitted to perform medical surgeries, thus enabling them to develop a very lucrative side business shaving beards, an easy addition to their regular surgical duties as they already possessed the scalpels, cutting and shaping utensils required to efficiently cut hair. 

It has often been said that there are two types of revolutions in the world. The first is typically a noisy one, full of sound and fury, yet in the end signifying nothing. This type of revolution tends to be convulsive, violent and short-lived. And despite the passionate and all too hopeful expectations that they often inspire, this kind of revolution rarely satisfies anyone’s needs—except those of its leaders. Most people look upon such revolutions as bad things—and they usually are.