Last week, I found myself crouched over next to the toilet, trying to dismantle a tray full of razors. There’s the plastic handle, a sort of rubber bit for grip, and the cartridge with metal blades in a plastic frame. I had already nicked myself thrice, managed to dismantle a grand total of zero razors, and wasted over an hour. The multiple materials make them impossible to recycle properly.
Let’s talk numbers. You switch blades out every one or two weeks if you shave every day. At best, you switch them out every 4-5 weeks if you shave once a week. They also come wrapped in plastic guards that are wrapped in another layer of plastic. Before you’ve even started using it, there’re two pieces of plastic packaging in the bin. The waste you produce with just this one simple activity is absolutely shocking. Apart from the environmental cost, can we not forget about the economic cost? Replacing blades and razors over time becomes a very expensive hobby.
Which brings me to another jarring aspect — their continuous reinventions with useless (and ugly) features. Do I really need another glittery handle with a strip of gel that becomes a sticky mess when left by your shower? The pink and the blue plastic looks like it was crafted using rejects from a My Little Pony factory. It’s really the most gaudy thing in my bathroom, and makes me feel like I reached an emotional and aesthetic maturity at the age of 9.
I’m not asking you to turn into a devout hippie who lives off-grid, doesn’t shave, wears strange sweaters and grows all their food. Though to be honest, this does sound quite appealing. I do love a strange sweater. The fact is that the everyday waste is appalling. Why are we not discussing the billions of razors that end in landfills every year or how they are equipped with more weaponry than a Transformer, which we discard like a used tissue? Are plastic razors the new plastic straws?
I recently rediscovered the age-old safety razor which changed my life — no jokes. You know the kind our grandfathers used? Granted the idea seems a little terrifying, and it looks a little like you could possibly cut your entire leg off. I went about holding it like a scalpel and quickly scanned my first-aid box, in case I need something to stitch up a gushing artery.
Turns out I didn’t need any — it’s called a ‘safety’ razor for a reason. They are supposed to last years, and if taken care of properly, even a lifetime. The only bit that you throw away are the thin blades (which come wrapped in paper) and are so eco-friendly! My sensitive skin is a big fan too; fewer burns and bumps. The best bit? It looks minimal (I bought mine in a beautiful rose gold) and now my bathroom looks like an actual adult owns it. Win-win.
saumya R chawla
@pixie.secrets
The writer loves to over-share, drink wine & watch period dramas