To Shave or Not to Shave

Let us establish the landscape. Below the equator of your belt, there exists a region that most men acknowledge only in private and maintain with the strategic planning of a man parallel parking under pressure. Some approach it with military precision. Others adopt a policy of benign neglect. Both camps believe they are correct. Neither has read the manual, because there is no manual. Until now.

OPTION ONE: The Full Clearing. There are men who remove everything. All of it. The result, for approximately nine hours, is magnificent — a landscape of implausible smoothness that suggests either an Olympic swimmer or a man with far too much free time on a Sunday afternoon. By Monday morning, however, the regrowth begins. And regrowth in this particular postcode is not the gentle reappearance of a meadow in spring. It is an insurrection. Stubble where stubble has no business being. Itching that cannot be addressed in polite company. The razor burn of a man who has made choices he cannot publicly discuss. I have been this man. I do not recommend the experience.

OPTION TWO: The Wilderness Approach. At the opposite end of the spectrum, we find the man who has decided that nature intended things to be exactly as they are, and who is he to argue with several million years of evolution. I respect the philosophical position. I question the execution. There is a difference between a man who is comfortable with himself and a man who has simply given up. The former has considered the matter and arrived at a decision. The latter owns cargo shorts and believes deodorant is optional. You know which one you are.

OPTION THREE: The Considered Trim. This is where civilisation lives. A trim says: I am aware of the situation and I have addressed it with the measured confidence of a man who does not panic. Not bare. Not abandoned. Maintained. The way one maintains a garden — not paved over, not left to the foxes, but tended with quiet regularity and the right equipment. This is the approach I endorse, because it requires the one thing that separates a gentleman from everyone else: consistency.

The tools matter enormously. A razor — any razor — near this territory is an act of reckless optimism. I say this as a man who once attempted it with a safety razor after two glasses of Barolo and emerged with the expression of someone who has seen things he cannot unsee. Scissors are for fabric. Razors are for faces. For everything south of the navel, you need a proper body trimmer with a guard that was engineered by someone who understood the consequences of failure. The Philips Bodygroom 7000 is, in my experience, the tool that inspires the most confidence. It has a foil shaver and a trimmer, it follows contours with the diplomatic sensitivity the region demands, and it is waterproof — because this is a shower activity, not a bedroom carpet activity.

A few practical notes, because I am not a man who leaves you at the theory. Trim when the hair is dry — wet hair lies flat and you will cut it shorter than intended. Use the longest guard first. You can always go shorter; you cannot go longer. Work with the grain, never against it, unless you enjoy the particular misery of ingrown hairs in locations where ingrown hairs are genuinely unacceptable. And moisturise afterwards. Yes, there too. An unscented balm. Nothing with menthol unless you wish to understand, in the most visceral way possible, what regret feels like.

I realise some of you are reading this and thinking: does it really matter? Let me answer with a question of my own. Do you iron your shirts? Do you polish your shoes? Do you maintain the parts of your life that others see? Then why would you neglect the parts that someone, at some point, if you are fortunate, will see at much closer range? Grooming below the belt is not vanity. It is the extension of the same principle that makes you choose a proper cologne over body spray, a leather belt over a fabric one, a real watch over whatever your phone tells you the time is. It is attention. It is care. It is the quiet acknowledgement that the details matter — all of them.