Le Ross, Le Blog - To beard or not to beard...

Much like Charles Manson, I love having a beard. I'm not talking poncey designer stubble, but a proper face-insulating, cosy cashmere blanket of a beard.

Lets face it, razor adverts lie. Very few of us shave daily in our marble bathrooms, grinning while a hot young thing in her birthday suit strokes our  jaw. Shaving is a pain, quite literally. Particularly if your other half has been secretly shaving her legs with your Mach 3 the morning before.

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It’s interesting that the longer my beard gets, the more eagerly security guards follow me around. Why is it that facial hair is consistently equated with criminality, crisis, alcoholism, or - if your beard is particularly splendid - all three. This coupled with the fact that I've recently been described as both a Borat-alike and an Iranian terrorist made me curious about the prospect of a fresh, hairless face.

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So, with this in mind, I took the initiative and popped into Murdock of Shoreditch for a professional cut-throat shave. This old-skool barbers is based on Old Street and is a real delight for the discerning man. Thomas, the bar manager, steamed my face with hot towels, foamed me up and practiced his cut-throat skills on my throat like a true pro.

Murdock offers a full range of services including moustache and beard trims, wet shaves, beard re-shaping and manicures. So if you’re looking for the ‘best ever real shave' since the Mac 500 turbo injection, get down and get a wet shave. Or, alternatively, check out Esquire's top five home shaving kits here.