Master Witch Hazel (Master Well Comb)

The search for a superior witch hazel continues, and I may have found it. It's funny to consider how public opinion changes. When I started reading Badger & Blade's forum posts in 2009, its members were enthusiastic about a polyol compound called glycerin. Men were adding glycerin to their aftershaves and boasting about it. Many were adding glycerin to aftershaves that already had glycerin in them. Glycerin was mentioned all the time. Guys wanted glycerin. Guys sought it out. Guys prized it when they found it, and added it as a magic ingredient, and nary a day passed without someone opining on its wonders. Like menthol crystals, glycerin was a hot wetshaver accessory.

Today, glycerin is the boogeyman. I'm always reading comments: "Too much glycerin," "The glycerin ruined it for me," "I prefer (x) because (y) has glycerin," etc. I suspect it's one of many reasons for why Master Well Comb has been struggling (the brand recently shuttered its website). The company seems fond of glycerin, and adds it to most of its products, including its double-distilled witch hazel. While the tacky drydown is debatably annoying in their other stuff, I find that it provides an ideal balance here: enough alcohol for the plant extract to work as an astringent, and just enough glycerin to prevent it from drying out my skin. Nice work all around, and very hard to find fault with. 

Cut-rate Hamamelis Vernalis beads all across my unprepossessing mug like raindrops on a freshly-waxed Studebaker Dictator, due to my reprehensibly oily and authoritarian epidermis. Pricier witch hazel behaves like aftershave and seeps in. Masters' formula is just witch hazel, water, alcohol, and glycerin, and it feels the nicest out of everything I've tried thus far. One might argue that it's too expensive, but I got 15 ounces for ten bucks even, and I'm lucky to get twelve for eight everywhere else, so this is yet another eBay purchase that I do not regret. Try to find vintage if you can, just for the cool label. 

Lilac Vegetol Aftershave (Master Well Comb)

Master is another classic American aftershave brand that doesn't get the attention it deserves, and it's entirely because of poor market share. When was the last time you saw a bottle of Master aftershave at the local drugstore? For some reason they don't put themselves out there, and it's only wetshaver fanatics and professionals who know about them. I think that's a shame. 

The company was founded in 1935 as "Krew Comb," and released some early winners, leading to growth in the commercial supply market. Lilac Vegetol (now spelled "Vegetal" on newer bottles, and "Vegetol" on vintage bottles and the website) was one of their first. Pinaud held the lilac space, and Krew Comb fleshed out the market niche with their version. How does it compare? It's less vegetal, more violet-floral, a sweeter and non-powdery lilac note. Unlike Pinaud's 19th century masterpiece, it's significantly weaker, and doesn't really double as a cologne (but could in a pinch). 

A few years ago, Master wisely embraced a brand makeover. Their website was a late nineties HTML dinosaur (link), and their color-coded aftershaves bore labels with designs leftover from the Reagan era. Then, sometime around 2015, the brand image and the entire product line were rehabilitated, a handful of losers were axed, and winners were repackaged. Lord & Master, Jade, and Focus were canned, and Iceland Breeze was abbreviated to "Breeze." Filling the empty spots are the new Cannabis Sativa Oil and Smokey Oud aftershaves. Interesting.

Lilac Vegetal acquires a familiar "barber's comb" smell several minutes after application, an aroma that high-end hair salons emit in perpetuity. It isn't a sexy smell, but neither does it offend. It contains just enough glycerin and skin toner to leave my face feeling smooth and clean, more so than other splashes in my collection. That's what aftershave should do, and this one delivers at a dollar an ounce. Recommended.