Pre-Shave Oil

Prime. Protect. Glide.

A great shave starts before the blade ever touches skin. This pre-shave oil is built for anyone who wants their skin treated right — a lightweight, fast-absorbing blend that preps the skin, softens the hair, and lays down a smooth, protective layer for the razor to glide over. No heaviness, no residue, just skin that's primed and ready.

We built this formula around oils that punch above their weight — ingredients that soften coarse hair, cushion the blade, and lock in moisture without leaving you looking (or feeling) shiny. It's rugged enough for a hardworking routine and refined enough to notice the difference.

Key ingredients:

Squalane Oil — A lightweight moisture powerhouse that mimics skin's natural lipids, sinking in deep to keep hydration locked where it belongs.

Meadowfoam Oil — One of the most stable oils out there, it forms a light, breathable barrier that shields skin through the shave without sitting heavy.

Jojoba Oil — Structurally close to skin's own sebum, so it absorbs fast, balances rather than clogs, and leaves nothing greasy behind.

Castor Oil — Rich in ricinoleic acid, it's the workhorse behind the glide — conditioning coarse hair and helping the razor move clean, with less drag and less irritation.

Avocado Oil — Loaded with vitamins A, D, and E, it penetrates deep to nourish and soften both skin and hair from the inside out.

Rounding out the blend, Sweet Almond Oil and Olive Oil bring classic, time-tested emollience, while Vitamin E Oil adds an extra layer of antioxidant protection — for your skin and for the oil itself.

Rugged work. Refined care. This is pre-shave, done right.

Volume: 2 oz / 60 ml — Directions: Apply a pump to damp skin before lathering, work in, then shave as usual.

Midnight Coast — Fragrance Description

The dark finds you first.

Not empty — alive, restless, salt-heavy. This is the top note of Midnight Coast: a cold rush of Marine air off black water, sharp with Camphor, medicinal and clean like something carried up from the deep. Beneath it, a flicker of Pineapple surfaces and vanishes just as fast — sweetness caught in a rip current, there and gone before you can name it. You're standing at the edge of something vast, and the tide doesn't care that it's night.

Then the shoreline changes beneath your feet.

Stalks of Bamboo rise pale out of the dark, dry and green even here, close enough to the water's edge to hear it. Woven through them is Lavender — herbal, a little wild, more shadow than flower, nothing soft about the way it lingers. This is the heart of the walk: half garden, half coastline, the line between land and sea blurred by moonlight and the smell of things growing where they shouldn't.

By the time you've gone far enough that the water is only sound, the scent turns low and grounded. Dark Musk settles first, warm and animal, the smell of skin and night air pressed close together. Vetiver follows, smoky-green and rooted, like wet earth still holding the day's heat. Amber glows underneath it all, resinous and slow to fade, and Cedar closes the walk out — dry, dense, the last thing you smell before the dark swallows the trail behind you.

This is a fragrance built like a walk taken after everyone else has gone in: it opens cold and briny, drifts through something green and secretive, and ends somewhere warm, dark, and impossible to shake. It doesn't ask to be noticed — it asks to be remembered. Worn on skin, in a candle, in a bar of soap under low light, it tells the same story every time: the coast doesn't sleep, and neither does whatever you left out there.