I’m not the target and I don’t care. I can love Bevel, too.

I just finished watching a series of videos called “Bevel Classics” and I couldn’t get to my keyboard fast enough to declare love for a brand that I knew nothing about. And, truth be told, I probably won’t even buy their products.

How can this be? How can you love a brand and not partake? We’re not talking about Lamborghinis here. We’re talking safety razors. And Mom would love it if I befriended a razor more often.

Bevel makes shaving products for African American men. I am a man, but not of the African American kind. According to 23andMe, I’m 98.4% of the European American kind. So Bevel isn’t a razor made for my skin, or so I’ve inferred from my limited googling.

But that’s OK. I can still love this brand. I can still want to be a part of what they are pitching. Because what they are pitching is far greater than a smooth face.

Watch the videos. Each one celebrates barbershop culture, and what it’s like to be king for 30 minutes in a barber’s chair. The conversations between barber and client are naturally magnetic. You’ll hear earnest and charming tales of the local barbershop, where boys become men. 

You’ll see that Bevel’s product placement is overt—the shave brushes, the creams, the razors, the buzz of the trimmer—all front and center. But the products never feel pushed upon you because the stories eclipse the clippers.

Yes, Bevel sells razors but that’s not what they stand for. Bevel is facilitating culture by making a stand as a contributor and enabler of progress for African American men.

And that’s something I can love, too.