Today I shaved without the aid of fancy modern shaving foam, the way your grandfather likely did*.

It wasn’t actually that bad, and most of the unpleasentness was probably due to trying to remove three days’ growth with the last blunted razor I could find in the bathroom.

I did still moisturise afterwards, mind you, so I’ve not gone totally wild man of the north, all shaving with a sharpened rock by the light of my camp fire.

In conclusion: shaving foam is likely a worthless modern frippery, designed to wash your money down the sink. Maybe. I’ll try it again with a proper razor and let you know.

*assuming your grandpa liked his balls smooth and his bush trim. I bet he did.