An open letter to Gillette

Dear Gillette,

Twenty years ago, I was a high school girl who wanted seriously smooth legs. In my search for a razor, I passed over the 1991 women's models as they seemed.... well, just not serious enough. I picked a shiny, geometric one from the mens section: the Sensor Excel, and loved it from the start.

My trusty razor accompanied me through high school, university, and two graduate degrees. It has traveled with me on five continents, and been x-rayed by an impressive number of airport officials. It smoothed my legs for my matric dance (senior prom), law school graduation, and wedding day. I even managed to wield it safely while shaving in the shower through two pregnancies.

After twenty years, it doesn't look so great any more. The once-shiny silver handle is really more of a murky black, and no amount of bleach-soaking, scrubbing or Madonna-singing can 'get into its grooves' anymore. But despite its modest appearance, until last week I was still determined to keep it. It's lasted me two decades, I thought. Perhaps there's another one in there somewhere.

I ditched my last blade in South Africa two weeks ago before subjecting my trusty razor to yet another airplane trip with its invasive X-Ray scanning. Once again, the razor survived. I went shopping last week seeking to replace my blades, and although the Costco website says they keep Gillette Sensor Excel blades, I couldn't find any. I did, however, find a twenty-pack of disposable Gillette Mach-3 (or is it 4? I get confused) razors... and since my husband is working on his second decade with his trusty Mach 3 and the need for leg-shaving was becoming... um, serious... I thought I'd give the Mach-3 pack a go.

I don't know it this makes me your best type of customer: the type who writes testimonials and enhances brand-character and makes it seem that my razor is the best-friend who has seen me through all of my youth's rites of passages. On the other hand, perhaps it makes me your worst type of customer: the type who only buys a razor every twenty years... and that can hardly be the kind of turn-over your marketing gurus are hoping for.

But nonetheless, I just wanted to say I'm a fan. Twenty years is a terrific innings for a razor, and I loved every shave with my trusty, old friend.

Yours in serious shaving,
Bronwyn