With Halloween approaching, I’m thinking about my seasonal aftershave rotation.
You probably are, too, right?
You do have a seasonal aftershave rotation, don’t you?
No?
Really?
People, please . . .
“You know, we’re living in a society!”
(George Costanza)
That crisp, citrusy Royall Lyme you’ve been wearing since Memorial Day won’t work come NFL week ten.
You don’t wear turtlenecks in July. So don’t wear a scent reminiscent of da islands, mon, when there’s frost on the pumpkins.
Know what I’m saying?
What’s that?
You say you don’t even wear aftershave?
Okay, now we have an entirely different issue.
Let me be clear about something: I’m talking about aftershave. Not cologne.
Cologne is the stuff of sheiks and mobsters. And high schoolers.
If you want people to smell you going and coming, then go for it. Pour on the Drakkar Noir.
But that’s not aftershave, either in fact or spirit.
Scents come in different concentrations. The higher the concentration, the stronger and more enduring – and obnoxious – the smell.
Eau de cologne is more highly concentrated than aftershave.
The purpose of aftershave is to give you that f— yeah! feeling after you shave.
The purpose of cologne is to identify you as a total choch.
Aftershave is about ritual – the gentleman’s shaving ritual.
It’s about enjoying the small, daily luxuries of proper self-care.
Done right, it’s totally zen.
But most guys miss out. They just want to get the whole thing over with as quickly as possible.
And that’s a shame.
Few things better enable you to put your best foot forward on any given day than a properly executed shaving ritual.
It’s taken me years to get mine dialed in.
It begins with the setup: Caswell Massey Heritage Face Wash in the shower, then The Art of Shaving Sandalwood Pre-Shave Oil at the sink.
Then, the lather: Taylor of Old Bond Street Peppermint Shave Cream, applied with a badger hair, ivory handle Taylor of Old Bond Street shaving brush.
Then, the shave: Merkur long-handle, double-edge safety razor with Lord Platinum Class blade.
Then, the finish: Cold-water rinse, followed by a healthy splash of the day’s aftershave, determined by a combination of season, weather, mood, and wardrobe.
I have about twenty different aftershaves.
That’s too damn many to choose from at six o’clock on a Tuesday morning.
So, I keep them in four groupings: Warm Weather, Cold Weather, Any Time, and Jacket Required.
I also have a fifth: Overseas Deployment.
Whether at sea or in the desert, I’ve never thought it made sense to use my nice, rather-expensive aftershaves for a day of sweating it out in a flight suit, coveralls, or cammies. In such environments, I’ve opted instead for the old-school (and less expensive) classics: Old Spice, bought at the base exchange, or Clubman Pinaud, purchased prior to deployment at the local drug store. Both are sturdy, yet subtle; bracing on contact; and provide a highly satisfactory experience. I’m grateful they’ve endured.
Back home, I stick to the first four categories.
Various aftershaves have cycled through my medicine cabinet through the years, some lasting for one season, some for more than a decade.
Those that consistently make the cut include:
Warm Weather
Bermuda Royall Lyme. If I could have only one aftershave, it would be this. A gin and tonic for your face.
Bermuda Royall Mandarin. Nothing puts me in a beach vacation state of mind faster than this. Used only on Fridays and weekends. And on beach vacations.
D. R. Harris and Company Arlington. It’s a walk through the lobby at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel. Hints of plumeria and Mai Tais.
Caswell Massey Newport. The scent of Old Money. Feels like you’re standing in the foyer at Rosecliff, Robert Redford’s Great Gatsby house, waiting for your host to descend the stairs to kick off a cocktail party on the back lawn.
Cold Weather
D. R. Harris and Company Sandalwood. The manliest scent in my collection. Makes me want to chop firewood, eat plain oatmeal, and wear wool sweaters . . . and like it!
Bermuda Royall Spice. A much-needed face-slap on a miserable winter day. Man-up! it says. Get out there, and shovel the damn driveway!
Caswell Massey Greenbriar. A subtle, sprucey scent that makes me hate winter a little less. A little.
Any Time
D. R. Harris and Company Marlboro. A great, in-between scent that conforms to local conditions. A little balmy? I get floral hints. A little chilly? Maybe oak or leather.
Caswell Massey Tricorn. Can’t describe it any better than Caswell Massey does: “The suave, classic fragrance evokes the aura of a classic barbershop, if your barber were a mid-century artisan catering to the likes of Cole Porter, Madison Avenue executives, and Beat generation creatives.” Nailed it.
Bermuda Royall Bay Rum. If pirates wore aftershave, it probably smelled like this. (More likely, they were cologne-wearers.) A classic, highly versatile scent.
Jacket Required
Faconnable. The first aftershave I ever owned, before I knew anything about aftershave. Purchased at the Nordstrom fragrance counter, a place I would never look today. (I mean, come on . . .) Definitely a dressed-up scent, most appropriate for suit-and-tie days. Manly. Subtle. Has everything I still value in a scent. Which is a shame, because I’m pretty sure they don’t make it any more.
L’Occitane. As an eau de toilette, it’s technically stronger than cologne. But I don’t find it overpowering, so I use it as an aftershave. And I’m happy to make this exception to my no-cologne policy for one reason: L’Occitane is pure class. A housekeeper in a Paris hotel once stopped me in the hallway while I was wearing it. “Monsieur . . . le cinema? Le cinema?” she asked. I think she thought I was some famous actor. Or, she wanted directions to the movies. Either way, it could only have been the L’Occitane.
Caswell Massey Jockey Club. Reportedly a favorite of JFK. Perfect for after-work cocktails with your Ivy League friends. Or for averting a nuclear crisis a hundred miles south of Key West.
The regular aftershave-wearer will look at these and think, “Interesting choices. Have you considered . . . ?”
The non-aftershave-wearer will think, “What a colossal waste of time and money. And sleep.”
For those on the fence, I say, give any one of these a try. You can build a satisfying ritual around any of them.
But do keep the seasons in mind.
I would hate for your day to start poorly, because you stepped out smelling oaky when you should have smelled citrusy. Or spicy instead of floral.
There are worse things that can happen.
But why chance it?
Get your plan in place today.
Because, yes:
We are indeed living in a society.