I am generally skeptical of advertising, and even more so of shaving commercials. Despite promise after promise of "new and improved" products which will provide a closer shave, no combination of dual blades, swiveling heads, silicone strips or even shaving cream with aloe can ease the apprehension that washes over me as I partake in the sado-masochistic ritual of shaving. I have tried electrics, and while they don't cut you (not my beef with shaving anyway), the razor burn (my beef with shaving) was unbearable. By the time I was eighteen, I had accepted my fate; I would never experience a close shave as seen on television.

So when the propaganda flooded the airways, touting the newest offering from Gillette, the Mach III "with triple blades for the closest shave yet!", I snorted to no one in particular, "I wonder what they'll think of next - four blades?" The first twin blade was also introduced by Gillette in 1971. And it took them seventeen years to think of three? This is insulting to us informed consumers of crap. I mean this isn't rocket science, or is it? Why not just go for it all? Make the quantum leap to four blades and leave the competition light years behind. I snickered at the thought of the purchaser ants scurrying out in droves to pick up this "new" product.

The next time I found myself browsing at Walgreens, I was lured not by the sleek ergonomic shape of the Mach II, but by the seemingly empty promise of the unattainable closer shave. Despite my earlier cynicism, I was desperate. I picked one up and walked trance-like to the register with my wallet open.

The Mach III cost me $8.95. I felt cheated when I opened it later and discovered only two blades. The new ergonomic Mach III felt awkward in my hand - the balance all skewed. I smiled wryly in the mirror as my suspicions were confirmed. Another victim of an advertising blitzkrieg. (I hadn't felt so suckered since I woke up and realized I'd voted for Clinton.)

As I dragged the Mach III across my three-day growth, I was stunned - none of the dragging and pulling and burning that screams shaving. Stroke after stroke, the Mach III swept my face clear of the thick black stubble that is the bane of my existence. Even the tough spots were purged with one fell swoop of the Mach III. I had to restrain myself from making airplane noises! As I rinsed my face, searching out patches of resistance, I found very little touch-up was necessary.

Could it be that Gillette had fulfilled their promise? I was not so easily persuaded. Yet, shave after shave (I got at least ten good shaves per blade), I was impressed by the Mach III's ability to repeatedly rise to the challenge without leaving me feeling like I had used a belt sander for a pillow. As I became accustomed to the Mach III, shaving actually became second nature, the Mach III practically an extension of my hand.

This thing is incredible. I had to do a little research. Gillette tested the Mach III on over 10,000 men, spending greater than $750 million on R&D and securing more than 35 patents. So maybe this is rocket science after all. It would take nothing short of a modern miracle for me to actually look forward to shaving, and the Mach III is just that.

Ethan Shaw

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