I have liked the same razor since I was a teenager. It’s the Bic Pure 3. Sturdy handle, three blades, no nicks, no worries.
Why then, is it that at least three times a year my legs are hacked to bits and bleeding, because I strayed from my beloved? I’ll be there, in Wilkos, and I’ll see the twin blades (or, gasp, single blades *wince*) on offer. “I’ll just use more lubricant (read: soap/conditioner/shower gel/olive oil…), it won’t be that bad”, I’ll say. Or in the supermarket, among the men’s ones – “black looks so much better in the monochrome bathroom, and the wobbly head won’t be a problem if I’m careful”, I’ll think. Or in Poundland, where you can get a Pepto-Bismol pink one with TWELVE detachable heads for (you guessed it) a pound – “ooh, that’s such good value”, I’ll blink, as it makes its way in there with the no-burn-time tealights and the split-in-a-week tupperware.
I’m stupid, that’s why. I love a bargain – Poundland is genuinely, honestly, my favourite shop – and so I stray, time and again. Well now I say – no more! If you put it on the internet you have to stick by it, right? No more razor burn or ingrown hairs, no more weird rashes or blood on the bathmat. I’ve found *the one* and I’m not buying any other.
What are you a sucker for buying cheap when you know you’ll end up getting the more expensive one anyway?
Look at those three gorgeous blades – how could I ever cheat on you…?