...except for me and my monkey! "Everything we see hides another thing. We always want to see what is hidden by what we see." -Rene Magritte

Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Strange things are afoot at the Circle K

Today I went to the local Rite Aid to price some toiletries, since sometimes they have better prices than Albertson's, and anyways, I always check drugstores to see if someone's got, like, a secret cache of o.b. regulars with applicator; I was practically devastated when that line went off the market. No luck on that front, but I did spend several minutes pondering the women's razors. And, frankly, I think things are out of control.

It's always easy to find the women's razors: just look for the fluorescent pink glow emanating from the shelves, and you're there. I've written before about the new Gillette Vibrance, but that's just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to razors. The fakey tokens of supposed femininity splashed all over the boxes are damn near sickening, and more than a little insulting to women: do we really need a razor named Daisy? To make our delicate little legs as soft as little flower petals? Does a woman's self esteem depend upon owning a razor named after a goddess? What's the thought progression there? "My razor's name is Venus. If I buy the purple one (a choice between purple, pink, and turquoise! God bless the free market) it's name is Venus Divine. Hey, maybe I'm a goddess of love, too!"

My favorite is the pink and purple Bic Soleil Twilight razor. First of all, the name? Smurf city. Second, on the package, it proclaims that the razor comes with a "Lavendar Scented Handle!" I mean, for one thing, I doubt it smells that strongly of lavendar, considering it's plastic and has been in a package for who knows how long, but more importantly, do women really...you know, sniff the handles of their razors? Do manufacturers think that women sniff the handles of their razors, or care at all that their razors smell faintly like a flower? Is this a selling point for any woman, anywhere? I feel like I'm taking crazy pills!

I'm pretty sure the men's razors are named things like "Razor;" guys, correct me if I'm wrong, but the Schick Quattro was the fanciest name I saw over on your side of aisle. And that brings me to my last point: I love the Schick Quattro for Women. It's pink, but the dark pinkiness is kind of tempered by gray metallic accents. There's something grimly determined and just a little scary about it, like a robot maid. It's not as flouncy as the other women's razors; it's just there to get the job done, dammit, and then maybe it's going to go kill some humans and take over the world, or whatever robot maids do.

On a somewhat related note, I love this entry of Gwen's.