A Concise History of Men’s Razors

On the glorious day of November 15, 1904 a patent was granted to Mr. King Camp Gillette for his invention, the safety razor. The man already possessed four patents, but apparently, that wasn’t enough. Consumed by capitalist greed and ambition, Mr. Gillette patented every blade he legally could. He even attempted to patent the broadsword, which had existed for centuries, but being practically unknown in America at that time, he almost got away with it. And he would have too, if it weren’t for the meddling kids of Lieutenant Colonel Jacob Schick who were tirelessly attempting to undermine Mr. Gillette’s every business and patenting venture with their time traveling dog and selective knowledge of history.

It was on that day in 1904, that Mr. Gillette was granted a near monopoly over the safe, disposable men’s razor market. Fashioned from a small, cheap, single piece of steel, the safety razor revolutionized the ritual act of dragging a sharpened point across one’s face in order to not be viewed as a vagabond by the greater consumer society in which we all live. Mr. Gillette’s brilliance put to rest the days of scraping with straight razors, which were dangerous and needed to be continually sharpened on a leather strap. His idea even sounded the death knell for the Star Safety Razor, a heavy wedge-shaped blade fitted to a handle.

Mr. Gillette’s genius didn’t stop there. Even though he had a superior product, he needed to market his wares to the unwitting populace. Drawing on his background as a traveling salesman, he drew up print ads that ran in newspapers and were posted on billboards depicting an eager young man attempting to sell patent medicines and cure-alls to a dense housewife. However, this eager young man sported a full, flailing, scruffy beard. The caption at the bottom read:

“As all good, entrepreneurial young men know, no one will buy anything from a hippie.”

The ad campaign was a resounding success and Mr. Gillette was flush with cash. He used his newfound influence and wealth to write a book extolling the virtues of this new “disposable culture” and went on a speaking tour from Boston and New York all the way to St. Louis. Mr. Gillette prophesied that the twentieth century would be one in which the average person throws away everything after using it only a short time.

Upon returning from his speaking tour, the competition in the disposable razor market was heating up and Mr. Gillette was under pressure to come up with a new, superior product in order to stay on top. So, he just purchased his competitors, save one that would not sell. Lieutenant Colonel Jacob Schick refused to hand over his electric razor invention. It was an idea Mr. Schick was certain would rule the 20th century and Mr. Gillette thought he may have been right.

Mr. Gillette tried in vain to thwart Mr. Schick by having him quietly disposed of in the East River, or chopped up and thrown out like so much garbage. But each time, the time traveling dog sounded the alarm and Mr. Schick was spared by always being in the right place at the right time. Until one day, Mr. Gillette’s illegitimate, transgender son, suggested that two razors were better than one. His mind exploded like the Somme in 1916. He thought, “Why just two? Why not three??” and the Mach 3 men’s razor came into existence.

This in turn, prompted Mr. Schick to try to one-up Mr. Gillette by creating the Schick Quattro razor, a four-bladed contraption capable of vaporizing any and all whiskers within a face’s radius. So, Mr. Gillette created a five-bladed razor and Mr. Schick a six-bladed one. Therefore, Mr. Gillette decided upon the drastic leap to a ten-bladed razor. A razor to end all razors. Which, ironically, with all that steel, was far too expensive for the average consumer, although still incredibly safe with the addition of a conditioning strip with aloe and vitamin E and a prep strip for stretching the skin.

When Mr. Gillette’s ten-bladed razor hit the market, Mr. Schick conceded defeat, and disappeared with his time traveling dog to a happier, more Schick-friendly consumer environment. As such, Mr. Gillette’s ego inflated to the size of the Hindenburg as he reasoned that the number of razors equaled financial and professional success. And it was the plight of men everywhere to spend $40 or more on superfluous razors for the foreseeable future.