A few months ago I was putzing around at work and Amelia emailed me to ask, “Hey, do you want to go with John DeVore and get shaved by a barber at The Art of Shaving and film it for the site?” And I thought, Oh dear! They’ve noticed the little ‘stache I grow in between waxing appointments! So, because I enjoy employment, I said “sure” and let my little mustache do its thing. Then, the day before our big date, John let me in on an important detail: The barber wouldn’t actually use a razor blade on my face because that would, like, skin my delicate lady-epidermis off in a bloody, “Silence of the Lambs”-style massacre.
Good to know. But I still had my little mustache, which I now hoped to get rid of before appearing on-camera. So I grabbed my boyfriend’s razor — like, the Mach- 3 he uses to scrape off his manly-man beard — and pruned away as vigorously as I shave my armpits.
I can still remember the chunk sound the razor made as it bit into my skin. It wasn’t a nick; it was a full-on cut. Damn it.
Panicking, I held a wadded-up ball of toilet paper over the cut until it kinda-sorta closed up and squirted on some Neosporin, too. I was too embarrassed to put a Band-aid on my face because … I just was.
My boyfriend, David, was watching TV, so I crawled into bed and turned the lights out, hoping he’d come in a while. But the little rapscallion followed me and, as is his way, he tried to give me smooches. I tried to deter his advances, but finally, I had no other option but to inform him I’d hacked into my face while shaving with his razor.
“Let me see!” David insisted, snapping the bedside lamp on. Then he cracked up. “You’re still bleeding, Jess!”
I clamped my hand over my mouth area and pouted. Would John and Amelia be pissed at me if I backed out of the filming? What kind of illness could I come down with in the next six hours? David alighted to the medicine cabinet, where he procured a Band-aid and stuck it on my face.
Needless to say, there was no smooching that night.
The next morning, I peeled away the Band-aid and wiped the dried blood off. The cut had mostly closed. I went to town with as much foundation and cover-up as I had in my arsenal and I am quite proud you can’t see my cut onscreen. And I was very relieved it didn’t re-open while I got “shaved”!
So maybe to you this is just a goofy video about my adventures getting shaved by a barber as a “Dude For A Day.” But for me, this video is a tender reminder that upper lip waxing might hurt like a motherf**ker, but there are some areas of grooming where I’m just not going to do-it-yourself.