Henson Razor vs Disposable Razor: Cost, Comfort, and Sustainability

The first time I shaved with a Henson, I remember the sensation less as a shave and more as the absence of drama. No tugging, no loud rasp of plastic across stubble, just a clean pass that felt controlled. That moment came after years of bouncing between big-box disposable razor packs and cartridge subscriptions that promised convenience and delivered landfill. If you’re trying to decide whether to stick with disposables or move to a Henson safety razor, it helps to break the choice into the three things you’ll actually feel over time: what it costs, how it treats your skin, and what it leaves behind.

Disposable razors are self-contained units. You buy them in multipacks, use them until the blades dull, then toss the entire thing into the trash. They’re light, often aggressively flexible, and usually pack two to five blades under a lubricating strip. Quality ranges wildly, from gas-station specials that scrape more than shave to premium disposables that approach cartridge performance at a lower price point.

A Henson is a different animal. It’s a precision-machined safety razor that holds a single double edge razor blade between two plates and a cap. The geometry is fixed and tight. You replace the blade, not the razor. The handle and head are aluminum or titanium, depending on the model, and the tolerances are closer to aerospace than bathroom gadget. Think single blade razor behavior without the learning curve of a straight razor or Shavette. You can dial in your experience by pairing the Henson with different safety razor blades and a proper lather from shaving soap and a shaving brush, though a quality cream works too.

If you’ve used the Merkur 34C, that classic workhorse, you know the rhythm of a well-designed double edge razor. The Henson shares that tradition but pushes further into predictability through tighter blade clamping and a shallower angle. It’s still a safety razor, but it behaves less like a vintage tool and more like a scalpel with training wheels.

Comfort is not just about the first pass. It’s about how your face feels at lunch, whether your neck flares up after three days straight, and if the shave is still acceptable when you’re rushed.

With disposables, the experience depends on freshness. A brand-new multi-blade disposable can feel slick, forgiving, and fast. The lubrication strip hides a lot of sins. By shave three or four, the edges begin to pull. Pressure creeps in. That’s when ingrown hairs and razor burn show up. Multiblade systems lift and cut hair below the skin line, which can deliver a close shave but also increases the chance of follicle irritation for those with coarse or curly hair.

The Henson’s single blade cuts at skin level. Less trauma, fewer passes, lower risk of ingrowns. Because the head clamps the blade so rigidly, it doesn’t chatter. That reduces micro-nicks and the sandpaper sensation some razors leave behind. On sensitive areas like the Adam’s apple or under the jawline, the mild head geometry encourages a shallow angle that feels natural once you get the hang of it. If you’ve tried more aggressive safety razors that bite, the Henson’s guarded feel is a relief.

Shaving acne-prone skin is where disposables can seem safer at first because you’re not managing an exposed blade. But the reality is mixed. A light, clean single pass with a Henson and a slick lather can skirt around blemishes with less irritation than a dull plastic head dragging across them. You do need a steady hand and respect for the blade. The first week might include a few tiny weepers as you adjust, though the margin of error is big compared to something like a straight razor.

If you shave your head, the calculus tilts even more toward the Henson for long-term comfort. Head skin is unforgiving when chewed up by a dull multi-blade. The Henson’s glide rewards light pressure and consistent angle. You will take an extra minute or two at first, then speed comes back as muscle memory forms.

Disposables win on no-thought use. You can shave in a hotel shower with no mirror and emerge presentable. They’re grab-and-go, which is why they’re crammed into gym bags everywhere.

The Henson introduces a technique element that’s mild compared to other safety razors. You keep the cap close to the skin, let the razor’s weight guide the cut, and avoid pressing. Short strokes, rinse often, respect the grain. The angle is almost self-setting because of the head design, which is why beginners report success on day one. The only people I’ve seen struggle are those who insist on pushing down like they would with a dull disposable. The razor will remind you not to.

Speed depends on routine. With a good lather from shaving soap and a brush, a three-pass shave can become a quiet ritual that beats any spa treatment. On a weekday, I usually do one with the grain and a cleanup pass. That takes five minutes, no drama. If you want true speed and zero gear, a disposable still wins on convenience. The question is whether that convenience is worth the trade-offs everywhere else.

Most shaving decisions break on cost over a year or two, not a week. Disposables look cheap per pack, but the line item accumulates. A typical mid-tier disposable runs around 1 to 3 dollars per unit. If you get three decent shaves before it tears up your neck, and you shave five days a week, you’ll go through roughly 80 to 90 razors per year. That’s 80 to 270 dollars annually, depending on what you buy and where.

A Henson is a bigger upfront purchase. Depending on finish and material, you’re usually in the 70 to 100 dollar range for aluminum, higher for titanium. Double edge razor blades are the bargain. Most quality blades cost 10 to 20 cents each when bought in bulk. If you swap blades every 3 to 5 shaves, you’re looking at 15 to 40 dollars per year for blades, even with premium choices. The razor itself can last decades if you don’t drop it onto tile.

Add in lather. Many disposable users rely on canned foam, which is fine in a pinch but costly per milliliter and drying on the skin. A puck of shaving soap and a modest shaving brush might cost 30 to 40 dollars upfront and then 10 to 20 dollars every six months. Creams can be similar. Over two years, the Henson setup almost always undercuts disposables on total spend, and by year three it’s not close.

There’s a psychological layer too. Disposables encourage overuse. You stretch one more shave out of a dull head because it’s there. With a safety razor, blade changes are trivial and cheap, so you run a sharp edge consistently, which means better shaves and fewer irritated days that might send you shopping for balms and fixes.

One reason enthusiasts love safety razors is the ability to tune the experience with different razor blades. Astra, Feather, Gillette Platinum, Personna, and many others each have a personality: sharp and surgical, smooth and forgiving, somewhere in between. The Henson’s design levels out extremes, but it doesn’t erase differences. If Feathers feel too lively, you can move to a blade with a softer edge. That tuning is impossible with disposables, where you get what you get.

If you prefer even more control, some folks keep a second single blade razor on the shelf. I’ve used the Merkur 34C as a comparison point for years. Compared to the Merkur, the Henson shaves at a slightly shallower angle and clamps the blade more tightly, which translates to fewer surprises on tricky areas. The 34C has a little more blade feel, which some like, but the Henson’s consistency is its trump card. For those who play with a Shavette or a straight razor on weekends, the Henson is the everyday tool that gives you most of the closeness without the concentration tax.

Dermatologists often recommend single-blade solutions for people who struggle with bumps and ingrown hairs. The mechanics are simple: a single edge cuts the hair at the surface, so the regrowth is less likely to curl under and inflame the follicle. Multiblade disposable systems can shave below skin level due to the lift-and-cut effect. That can feel glass-smooth, especially against the grain, but it’s the reason some users end up with red patches 24 hours later.

The Henson’s mild head and rigid blade minimize deflection. Paired with a slick lather and light touch, it excels on sensitive skin. If your neck explodes whenever you go for baby smooth with a multi-blade, try a Henson with one pass with the grain and a gentle across-the-grain cleanup. Skip the aggressive against-the-grain chase for a week. Most people see fewer bumps in that pattern.

For coarse or curly hair, the difference shows up quickly. I’ve coached a few barbershop clients who switched their home routine from a five-blade disposable to a Henson. After two weeks, the usual hot spots along the jaw and under the chin calmed down. They still keep a travel disposable in a dopp kit, but it sees daylight on rare emergencies.

A disposable is mostly plastic with a steel core. None of it gets recycled through normal household streams. Multiply that by 80 razors a year and the numbers stack up. Add in packaging and shipping weight, and the waste profile gets ugly fast.

A Henson turns that math upside down. The razor is a one-time purchase, and the blades are small steel slivers that can be stored safely in a blade bank. Many municipalities allow steel recycling if the blades are contained and labeled, though policies vary. Even if you landfill the blades, the volume is tiny compared to a year’s worth of plastic. Aluminum or titanium handles last essentially forever when cared for, and the factory tolerances don’t drift with age.

Sustainability isn’t just about material waste. The Henson also reduces the frequency of buying and shipping bulky goods. One small box of double edge razor blades can cover a year or more. That means fewer parcels and less packaging. For those who care about buying local, Henson Shaving operates in Canada; if you’re in North America, that can be a tighter supply chain than ordering imported disposables. If you’re outside that region, look for regional retailers that stock Henson shaving Canada products to https://classicedge.ca/collections/antinques-vintage cut transit distance.

Exposed metal scares people who grew up on plastic guards and lubricating strips. The fear is understandable, but with the Henson it’s misplaced. Safety razors earned their name by shielding the edge while presenting it efficiently. The Henson in particular uses a tight blade gap and lets you feel the cap on your skin, which guides angle intuitively. If you do nick yourself, it’s usually because you pressed down, whipped around a corner too fast, or shaved without adequate hydration.

Disposables feel safer because they let you get away with more. You can shave a dry patch of cheek and probably not bleed. That doesn’t mean your skin is happy. Microtrauma is real, and you feel it as post-shave sting or as faint sandpaper burn that lingers all day. The Henson asks for basic care: warm water, a slick lather, and no pressure. In return you get a quieter face.

Airport travel complicates blade rules. Carry-on restrictions in many countries prohibit loose double edge razor blades, though the handle itself is fine. You can pack blades in checked luggage, or buy blades at your destination. If you never check a bag, a disposable might be your easiest path through security, though you can also carry the Henson handle and pick up a tuck of blades locally. This is the one area where I still keep a couple of disposables in a drawer. Red-eye flight, no checked bag, morning meeting in a new city? A single-use solution does the job once or twice a year.

At the gym, the Henson plus a small blade tuck and a travel tube of cream adds minimal weight. It cleans easily and dries fast. Unlike cartridge heads with multiple layers that trap hair and soap, a double edge razor blade rinses clear in seconds.

Canned foam gets you by with disposables because the multiple blades do so much cutting per pass that glide matters less. With a Henson, lather quality directly affects comfort and closeness. A simple routine works: splash of warm water, a slick cream or shaving soap, and a minute with a brush to lift hairs and soften the field. You can skip the brush in a pinch, but it earns its keep. The brush isn’t just for nostalgia; it’s a tool that hydrates and aligns stubble so the edge can do its work.

If you’ve never used a brush, start with synthetic. They dry quickly, resist mildew, and perform consistently. A small puck or tube of cream costs less over time than canned foam, and the fragrance options range from unscented to barbershop classics. This is shaving, not aromatherapy, but scent makes the routine something you look forward to, which means you do it right.

People curious about the Henson sometimes flirt with a straight razor or a Shavette. There’s romance in that route, and if you enjoy the ritual, nothing shaves closer than a well-honed straight. But the learning curve is steep, maintenance is real, and time is scarce. A Shavette uses disposable blades and removes the maintenance, but it increases the precision required. For everyday duty, a Henson stacks 80 percent of the closeness with 20 percent of the effort. If you already have a straight razor habit, the Henson becomes the weekday tool. If you’re new to single blade shaving, it’s a safer on-ramp.

Not all safety razors feel the same. Balance, knurling, and head profile change how a razor behaves on wet skin. The Henson sits light in the hand, especially the aluminum version, and it balances slightly head-heavy in a way that encourages the right angle. The handle knurling is precise without being aggressive. If you prefer heft, the titanium version brings more weight without losing that locked-in geometry.

The machining matters. Cheaper safety razors sometimes leave more blade exposure on one side than the other. That inconsistency forces you to compensate subconsciously and can create uneven shaves. The Henson’s manufacturing standards deliver alignment every time. You won’t think about it much, which is the point.

For those who like to personalize, there isn’t much to tweak on the Henson body itself, but you can experiment with handle length versions, different blades, and your lather routine. If you’re coming from a Merkur 34C, which has a shorter, denser feel, the Henson will seem more nimble. After a month, your hand adapts, and switching back makes the Merkur feel old-school in a satisfying way, like throwing a manual transmission car into a weekend drive.

Disposables are single-piece gadgets. You rinse and move on, but buildup happens quickly, and once the head gums up, you toss it whether the blades are shot or not. Hygiene is simple because you’re throwing away the whole thing.

A Henson takes a minute more every week. Unscrew the handle, pop out the blade, rinse the plates, and you’re done. Every few months, a soak in warm water with a drop of dish soap clears any mineral or soap residue. The blade itself lasts for three to five shaves depending on your beard and blade brand. Some people stretch to seven; others swap every other day because the cost per blade is so low. Either way, you shave on a sharp edge more often, and your skin notices.

When people ask me what they should buy, I start with their priorities. A college student in a dorm who shaves twice a week and loses things might stick with disposables for a semester. Someone with a coarse beard and a nine-to-five who is tired of neck irritation should try a Henson. The odds are good they’ll never go back to a multi-blade. Budget-minded folks see the numbers shift in their favor after a few months. Environmentally conscious shavers appreciate that their bathroom trash shrinks to almost nothing.

I keep a few other razors around as benchmarks. The Merkur 34C reminds me how a classic, slightly heavier safety razor feels. A cartridge sits in a drawer for the odd red-eye trip. A straight razor lives in a case for the rare Sunday when time slows down. The Henson is the Monday through Friday tool. It disappears in the best way, doing the job without fuss, and that’s the highest compliment I can give any Razor.

If you decide to try the Henson, keep it simple for the first three weeks. Use a mid-sharp double edge razor blade like Astra or Gillette Platinum. Shave after a shower or after a warm rinse. Build a slick lather with a brush and a straightforward soap or cream. Use almost no pressure, keep the cap close to your skin, and let the edge do the work. Make one pass with the grain. Rinse, feel for rough patches, and do a light cleanup pass. No heroics.

If you want a fallback, keep a single disposable in your cabinet. You probably won’t touch it after week two, but it lowers the stakes on day one. And if you’re in Canada, Henson shaving Canada retailers make it easy to pick up blades and accessories locally so you’re not waiting on post.

The point isn’t to join a club. It’s to make your daily shave predictable, comfortable, and affordable while sending less plastic to the dump. Whether you collect cigar accessories or keep your counter bare, a well-made single blade razor earns its square inch of space.

Shaving is one of those small, repetitive acts that compound. The money you spend, the skin you carry around, and the waste you generate add up across months and years. Disposables emphasize immediacy: quick, cheap-looking, and done. The Henson emphasizes intention: a well-made safety razor paired with inexpensive double edge razor blades that give you control and consistency. If the math, the feel, and the footprint matter to you, the Henson is the smarter long-term choice. If you need the easiest possible option for rare emergency shaves, a disposable has its place. Most people will be happiest with the Henson at home and a single throwaway tucked in a travel kit, a pragmatic split that respects cost, comfort, and sustainability without turning routine into dogma.