LG SOTD Jun 17 2024 - Leather Lather Memories
photocontest
[Theme: Kipple, sometimes also called Trash]
- Brush: Black & Yellow Merit 99-5 by Heritage Collection Shaving / AP Shave Faux Boar Synthetic 24mm #FAUXFUR #FRANKENBRUSH #RESURRECTIONBRUSH
- Razor: Muhle - R103 Tortoiseshell OC #ZAMAC
- Blade: Muhle - Stainless Razor Blade
- Lather: Catie's Bubbles - Lancaster Leather - Luxury Cream Soap
- Post Shave: Catie's Bubbles - Lancaster Leather - After Shave Lotion
- Fragrance: Memo - Oriental Leather - Sample
"Come in. Sit down."
"Ok if I talk? I'm kind of nervous when I take tests..."
MEMORIES OF GREEN
Vegan. No animals.
Cruelty. All there's left.
Green. Memories.
Memories. Are they mine? Are they real?
I have no recollection of the reason why my username here is MudAccording.
Did a Reddit bot suggested it for me? Not a clue.
Could I be the bot?
I took the test before accessing the forums.
The other shaving forums, where they call me deckard.
An intrusive memory pops up in my brain:
“They don't advertise for killers in the newspaper.
That was my profession. Ex-cop. Ex-blade runner. Ex-killer.”
After a chain-reaction of extinction events, big corporations like Tyrell flooded the market with synthetic replicas of animal products.
Some small artisans had started earlier, mostly for conscientious objectives, trying to raise awareness about the impending risks.
Awareness.
Risks.
Truth.
Objectives.
None of it matters anymore.
Nor does objectivity.
Objects are all that's left.
So. Many. Objects.
If entropy is irreversible, might as well make the most out of it, right?
Kipple.
Useless objects, like junk mail or match folders after you use the last match or gum wrappers or yesterday's homeopape. When nobody's around, kipple reproduces itself. For instance, if you go to bed leaving any kipple around your apartment, when you wake up the next morning there's twice as much of it. It always gets more and more.
No hope.
Hope was a trap invented by those in power. Still, it provided a sense of purpose.
No longer.
No more life, just survival.
Like many others, I have trouble remembering.
Objects. Collectibles from a past that is long gone.
My razor.
Handle is supposed to be tortoise.
Another intrusive memory:
“Tortoise? What's that?”
“You know what a turtle is?”
“Of course!”
“Same thing.”
My brush.
Faux boar, it says.
From before the Third Boar War, I guess.
And the handle is advertised as a replica of Merit 99-5, a lost artifact from before.
Objects and memories. That’s all we live by.
I keep trying to recall the smell of leather.
Today I opened one of the most precious artifacts in my collection.
A sample of Catie’s Bubbles Lancaster Leather shaving soap.
Just the Luxury one, not the Premium, still missing from my collection.
There was always the promise of a better version, back then.
Sample tub will soon be done.
Philip K. Dick,holed in his apartment, wrote some of these words already.
Obsessed by old memorabilia.
After the shave, here's one of my proudest finds: the matching splash.
Full bottle, it was. Each time I use it, I regain some memories, but lose a bit more of what was left.
It's too bad, she don't last, eh!
But who does.
SOTD WRITEUP
Brand new razor. I always wanted to try the R41 OC head. Thanks to an online offer, the tortoiseshell handle was just a few bucks more than just the head. Too bad it’s the most stupid handle I ever tried. A perfectly cylindrical slippery surrogate of all the gravitas an actual tortoise stands for. The weight of the head is not balanced by the plastic material, nor by the length of the handle.
Loved the head: with the Muhle sample blade that came in the package, I got a nice close shave, without irritation even after an ATG pass.
Loved the head, but that handle is already turning into kipple.
SPECIAL THEME
No rule-subversion today.
As Captain Bryant reminded me: “Stop right where you are! You know the score, pal. You're not cop, you're little people!”.
Sometimes you have no choice but bow. So I kneeled and knee-lathered. All I learned is that I wasted more of my precious soap than if I had been bowl-, hand- or face- lathering.
All that lather has been lost in vain, like tears in rain.
THE SCENTS
Dick.hole today.
CB Lancaster Leather embraced me in its suede leather accord, soft-hearted beneath its HarrisonFordian aura of ruggedness. Frankincense, Cardamom, and what seems like a touch of aromatic wood (Agarwood?) provide a glimpse of Orientalism.
The melting pot overflows in the AS. My brain is electrocuted by sudden memories of dried fruits, candied citrus and spices that are used in many traditional Italian Christmas sweets. Also Vanilla and bergamot, like in Miracle, but there's so much more here.
I picked Memo Oriental Leather to complete the animal-free reinvention of a tanned animal hide.
What a surprise! While the fragrance per se used to reflect the idea of an oriental leather, today my brain's and nose's leather receptors have been satiated by Lancaster Leather, so all I can smell in Memo's fragrance is the patchouly drydown. I almost thought I had accidentally sprayed a fresh reinvention of Givenchy's Gentleman.
No, Memo was not a false memory.
I still feel human.
I hope.
FOF
END TITLES
ROTY