Of late, shaving companies have become obsessed by the cornucopia of pubic hair that hides beneath our pants.
Having conquered our faces around 1900 (just look at all the people who have had beards and mustaches since then: Saddam Hussein, Hitler and Joaquin Phoenix), they've been upping the ante in the past few years by adding additional blades for smoother shaves and new ointments for making the process go smoother.
Personally I've been more than happy with these developments. Every time I see a straight razor I can't help but think what would happen to me if it was in the hands of an irate orangutan smuggled from Borneo. Armed with a safety razor he becomes much less menacing.
But stunning advances in razor technology only keep you ahead of your competitors, they don't open up new markets and sell that much more razors in the grand scheme of things.
So, they thought about where they could trick people into shaving next and this is what they came up with...
It's not that I'm opposed to personal care and grooming. It's 2009 and not 1973 and the sleek look is in so I'm sure the ladies deserve a little reciprocity (see Wilkinson Sword's efforts to get women to "mow the lawn" or "trim the hedges").
I'm just saying that I can't shave my face without cutting it, and I've been shaving for a decade. Putting a bunch of blades to my bathing suit area (which let's be honest, is a little tougher to see) is like reaching your hand into the gom jabbar. I can just imagine being perched precariously over the tub with shaving cream in one hand, a razor in the other and the litany against fear running through my mind.
"I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Feat is the little death that brings total obliteration."
Right before slipping and cracking my head against the wall, leaving me concussed and embrassed when someone walks in on the carnage.
The advertisement itself doesn’t do much to calm my nerves or sell me on the idea.
First they claim, with a wink, that without the underbrush the tree looks taller. I didn’t even know we were dealing with forestry I thought we were talking about dicks.
Second, if we’re resorting to optical illusions to impress women (who are already in a position to be viewing said dicks, so mission accomplished there) then why don’t you try a safer route, like women with no depth perception? Or you could just find a way to always be standing in front of a magnifying glass; it’s a lot easier than you’d think.
Then they urge us to think about the “unique topographical features under your hood.” That’s right, visualize your balls and strategize about how to take care of that unsightly hair. Better yet, you could go on a fact finding mission to Provincetown or the men’s room at GOP headquarters. Just keep some ace bandages handy for those inevitable first few nicks.
The surreal cherry on top of this awkward sundae is the expression on our cartoon hero’s face. The kind of shit eating grin usually reserved for frat boys watching two girls drunkenly make out, not for someone shaving anything, let alone their man parts. It’s incredibly off putting, the pure white smile in the midst of a featureless face like he’s having more fun than a kid at a carnival.
Suddenly the safety razor is a lot scarier.