A few weeks ago, I attended the annual Melbourne Pen Show, the oldest continuous collector’s and dealer’s fair of writing equipment, writing accessories and antiques in the southern hemisphere. This year was our 20th anniversary!

I sold quite a few things at the show – not just pens, but also silverware and antiques. Eager to see what else was on offer, I left a friend to guard my sales table, and went off to have a look around. Ironically, for something labeled as a pen show, I didn’t find any pens which excited me enough, in a price-range I was comfortable with, to actually buy. But while poking around through all the related offerings of inkwells, ink bottles, leathergoods, diaries, desk accessories and assorted antiques, I did find a row of rather crusty old pocketknives.

None of them were particularly appealing, but after sifting through all the detritus, I came across a rather handsome specimen with nickel-silver bolsters, and clad all over in lovely shimmering, glossy mother of pearl scales. Like all the other knives, this one was crusted and grimy and dare I say it, rather overpriced, but I perceived that, with a bit of effort, it could be turned into something both elegant, and useful.

A good bit of haggling managed to chip the price down and I bought it feeling happy for myself. Within just a few minutes of walking off with it and settling back behind my own sales table at the fair, I whipped out the knife and started thinking over what would need to be done to the knife to restore it to something resembling working condition…because it certainly wasn’t!

The knife was a standard, palm-sized slipjoint penknife, somewhat on the smaller end of medium, with two opposing blades contained within a pair of brass liners and a single backspring underneath, ornamented with nickel-silver bolsters and thick slabs of mother of pearl between, on either side. It could be a very attractive knife – if only the blades would open without ripping your fingernails out by the roots, and could cut anything worth a damn, without giving you tetanus at the same time, from all the surface-rust on the steel.

Who made the Knife?

The knife was manufactured in the capital of European cutlery – the German town of Solingen – by the centuries old firm of Wusthof. Established in 1814, the Wusthof cutlery firm is still owned and operated by the Wusthof family, over two centuries after it was founded! Although more famous today for making kitchen-knives, it was common in the old days for cutlers to make all kinds of blades from scissors to razors, pocket-knives to silverware. Specialising in one particular type of blade (like what most companies do now) is a relatively recent phenomenon. Being a Solingen knife, I knew I’d bought something of unquestioned quality – it would have to be, if the company’s still family-run after 200 years!

Cleaning, cleaning, and…more cleaning

In my many years of collecting and tinkering with antiques, it’s long been my experience that the vast majority of antiques that are purchased from someplace – be it a fair, online, at an antiques shop, or from someone’s barn in the middle of nowhere – only require ‘restoration’ or ‘repairs’, and are ‘broken’ or ‘don’t work’ – not because they ARE broken, or don’t work, but rather, because they simply haven’t been cleaned. In decades!

Watches, clocks, sewing machines, typewriters, fountain pens, cars, record-players…anything, really…that’s been used rough and put away wet, as they say…will tend to seize up and not work after several years of use and absolutely no maintenance. The same goes for pocketknives.

Once I got the knife home, I opened it up and flooded it with oil. I stuffed it full of tissue-paper and started rubbing and scraping away at the inside of the knife. Even this half-hearted attempt at cleaning the knife yielded amazing…and…frankly…revolting…results! After their brief spelunk into the dark cavities of the knife, the tissues returned to the surfaceworld clagged up and caked in filth! Black, brown, sludgy GUNK all over!

Now came the really messy bit…removing all this grime.

Working out the Grime

Unless you have all the right tools, removing 60 years of encrusted grime and gunk (the accumulated decades of dust, pocket-lint, dead skin, coagulated oil and god knows what else) from the inside of a pocketknife can be a long, slow, sticky, oily and very, very, VERY messy process. Most people don’t have these tools…like me…and so you gotta restore the knife without them, the long way around…and this can take days.

The only way to do this is to repeatedly flood the knife with oil (I suggest sewing machine oil, but if you can stand the smell, WD-40 works as well, but keep in mind, you will be using a LOT of it, so best to get a lubricant that doesn’t smell…) and then work the blades open and shut, over and over and over again.

The oil seeps into the deepest nooks and crannies of the knife and dilutes the grime and crud that’s stuck inside the springs, pivots and liners. Opening and closing the knife the literally thousands of times that this will require, works the grime loose and it seeps out the bottom of the knife through the backspring with each working of the blades.

Get some tissues, paper-towels or toilet-paper. Fold it thick and lay it on a hard surface like a tabletop. Rub the knife – spring-side down – against the paper. Press it hard into the paper and rub it vigorously back and forth. The capillary action of the oil seeping out of the knife into the paper draws out all the grime stuck inside the springs and pivots. Now lift up the knife and stare in horror and revulsion at the THICK BLACK GREASY LINES on the paper. This is the grime that’s inside the knife which you MUST remove if the knife is to work properly.

“But this takes DAYS!!” I hear you say. “Can’t you just lubricate the pivots and have done with it!?”

Sure. You can. But you’re only lubricating the grime that’s stuck inside the knife. Once the oil dries up, the grime dries up, sticks to the springs and pivots all over again, and turns to glue. It fuses the blades shut through sheer friction and you’re back to square one all over again. The only way to get the knife working properly is to get ALL that crud out. And the only way to do that is to flush it through with oil.

“Can’t you speed it up somehow?”

Not unless you can rip the knife apart, clean it, and then competently put it back together. Using an ultrasonic cleaner does help somewhat, but it’s only effective once the grime has already been loosened. Ultrasonic cleaners work by vibrating and generating thousands of tiny bubbles that burst and explode against anything they come in contact with (like a knife placed inside an ultrasonic bath).

These thousands of explosions flush out and dislodge any grime and gunk they come into contact with. But it only works if the bubbles can reach the grime – in this case, the grime is trapped deep inside the knife. For the cleaner to be effective, you need to work the grime loose, first.

The knife is clean once all this grime has been removed from all the pivot points, gullies, crevices and chokepoints inside the spring mechanism. When the oil coming out of the knife is clear (or as clear as you can get it), and the blades swing open and shut smoothly with little (if any) resistance, then the knife is clean. If the blades keep jerking open and shut, then it needs more cleaning. You do not want jerky, unpredictable blades in your pocketknife AFTER you’ve sharpened those same blades – they become a serious safety risk!

Removing the Chip

As elegant as the knife was (or as elegant as I perceived it would be, after I was done with it), there was no hiding the fact that the blade had a tiny, but noticeable chip along its length. It was a tiny chip – probably less than a millimeter, but it was a chip, nonetheless, and I knew that it would be pointless to try and sharpen or use the knife if the chip wasn’t dealt with. The chip is a weak-spot in the blade, but it’s also an annoyance and a safety risk. And it prevents you from cutting anything properly, since you don’t have a straight, clean edge.

The only way to remove the chip was to grind the blade down to the same level as the end of the chip. That’s right – you have to physically remove metal from the blade. Obviously, the bigger the chip, the more metal you have to remove, so ideally, any knives you buy should have no chips at all, or if they do, then they should be tiny chips like this, where grinding down the blade doesn’t affect it so badly.

Out came the sharpening stones!

I picked out the roughest sharpening stone I had. I laid it down and started grinding the blade back and forth, heel to toe along the stone in a sawing or slicing action. The aim was to slowly grind down the metal until the edge of the blade met the top of the chip, thereby eliminating it. Obviously to do this well, the blade needs to be level on the grinding stone, or else you end up with a wonky-looking blade. So if you do have to do this, make sure the blade’s edge is level against the stone as you grind. Stop every few strokes to check progress and stop grinding entirely when the chip is ALMOST gone.

Once you reach that stage, regular sharpening of the now dulled knife-edge should remove the rest of the chip and restore the blade to its proper profile.

Keep in mind that, because the only way to remove a chip or nick in the blade is to remove the metal around the chip, smaller chips are easier to remove from blades than larger chips. A knife with a big chips in the blade should generally be avoided.

Polishing the Blades

Knives which are this old are typically made of carbon steel. That means that they’re very susceptible to rusting. Back in the old days, the way to stop this was to give the blades a protective coating. 60 or 70 years ago or more, this was accomplished by plating the blades in a non-corrosive metal…like nickel. Nickel not only gave the knife a sheeny silver shine, but it also prevented the blades and other steel parts of the knife from corroding.

50, 70, 100 years later, and all that nickel-plating is gone. The blades will probably be growing rust and starting to pit, by now. Heavy rusting and pitting on blades should be red-alert signs that the knife is not to be touched, let alone purchased, but light surface rust can generally be removed by careful polishing.

To do this, you’ll need fine-grit sandpaper of varying degrees of roughness, and a polishing compound of your choice (or if you don’t want to use a metal polish, the oil that you used to loosen out the grime inside the springs and pivots can also be used).

With enough persistence, and the right degrees of abrasiveness, a combination of fine sandpaper and a lubricating/polishing liquid can restore a knife’s blades to a stunning shine. If you really put effort into it, you can even get a glossy, mirror finish, but don’t forget that your main task is to remove the rust.

Sharpening the Blades

Once you’re done removing the grime from the springs and pivots and got the blades opening and closing smoothly, once you’ve removed any chips from the blades and have given them a good polish, the last step is to sharpen the blades. I always leave blade sharpening as the last step to prevent any nasty cuts during the cleaning process.

There’s a million articles on the internet about how to sharpen everything from corkscrews to axes, so I won’t go into the intricacies of the action, but I will say that a pocketknife has been sufficiently sharpened when you can slice cleanly through a sheet of paper or cardboard from point to shank, without the blade sticking to, or tearing up, the paper or card as it makes the cut.

Hold the edge of the sheet of paper or cardboard in the thumb and index finger of your left hand, three or four inches from the corner. Holding your knife in your right hand, slice downwards, from the edge of the paper ahead of your fingers, from one side of the sheet to the other. A sharp knife will cut cleanly into the edge of the paper, through the middle and down to the bottom, the whole length of the blade without stopping. You should be able to do this really fast. If the blade sticks, jams, catches or fails to cut in any way, or if it tears the paper in half while this happens, then it’s not sharp enough.

Once the blades have been thoroughly sharpened, then your knife is ready for use!

This is the process that I went through to restore this knife back to working condition. It was a long, drawn out process that took over a week (removing 60, 70 years of grime was never going to be easy!), but it was worth it. Now I have another beautiful vintage pocketknife to add to my collection.

Keeping it Clean and Sharp

Once you’ve finished the arduous task of restoring your pocketknife, it’s important to keep it in good condition. Don’t force the blades, always keep your knife dry, and every now and then (not often, once or twice a year should be enough, if you use it regularly), flush out the springs and pivots with oil again to keep the action smooth and free of grime. And don’t forget to sharpen it – ideally after any heavy use, if you feel that the blades are starting to lose their edges. Used correctly, a sharp knife is safer than a blunt one.

For a lot of aficionados of traditional wet shaving, mastering the use of a classic cutthroat straight-edge razor is often seen as the zenith of one’s learning-curve and the peak of one’s skill-acquisition when it comes to reverting back to this more relaxed, eco-friendly, and most masculine of grooming rituals. Often perceived as being phenomenally dangerous, once mastered, the use of a cutthroat razor is both relaxing, enjoyable, and dare I say it – far more fun than shaving with a toss-out plastic cartridge razor. Cutthroat razors shave smoother, cleaner, and due to the significant length of the blade’s cutting-edge, remove more stubble with fewer strokes, than conventional modern razors. This means that they also shave much faster than modern razors.

Kept sharp, smooth and dry, stropped smoothly and honed correctly, a cutthroat razor will last for decades – even centuries, before it has to be thrown out. If ever! This, along with all its other attributes, is why the traditional straight razor is coming back into fashion with a vengeance!

I’ve been using a cutthroat razor for the past eight years. I typically shave every other day, strop each razor before and after each use, and touch up the blades every six to eight weeks, to keep them sharp. In my time, I’ve come to appreciate the amazing variety which is available when you turn to the art of using a straight razor, over that of a cartridge monstrosity. The different blade-shapes, point-styles, scale-materials, razor-sizes, blade-widths…the amount of variation found in razor to razor, even within a single manufacturer – is almost endless. This is why a lot of straight razor users claim to suffer from a condition known as “R.A.D.” – Razor Acquisition Disorder! And it’s not hard to see why – these beautiful, useful, long-lasting tools come in an almost infinite variety of sizes, styles, designs, materials and finishes.

In my time I’ve owned razors made in Germany, Britain and France. I’ve had razors from Solingen, razors from Sheffield, razors from companies that don’t even exist anymore, and razors from manufacturers whose names have gone down in history as famous cutlers. I’ve had razors with scales made of horn, snakewood, celluloid, stainless steel…even ivory!…I have two of those!

But from the very earliest days of attempting to master the use of the straight razor, of all the razors I’ve collected, sharpened, stropped, cleaned, sold or kept on, of all the razors I’ve cut myself with (Thank goodness, not many!) – there was one type of razor that I’ve always wanted…and never managed to get my hands on. Until about a month ago.

Seven Day Razor Sets

Among users and collectors of straight razors, there’s always various types of razors which people love to try and collect. The thinnest blades, the widest blades, ivory-scaled, horn-scaled, silver-scaled (yes, silver scaled razors do exist. They’re rare, but they do exist), two-razor sets, four-razor sets, the oldest, the newest, the most beautifully decorated…the list of variations, and of collecting goals and of ‘grail acquisitions’ go on, and on, and on.

And, for a lot of collectors, one of their goals is often the procurement of a classic ‘seven day set’. And that was one of my goals until a few weeks ago, when I finally got my hands on one!

What is a ‘Seven Day Set’?

A seven day set refers to a boxed set of seven identical cutthroat razors, one razor for each day of the week. Such sets were (and still are) sold as luxury male grooming accessories, and their price reflects that. Whether antique or modern, such sets often cost inordinate amounts of money. A modern seven day set, with decorated scales and handsome, wooden case, made by a well-respected company in modern times, currently retails for $3,500. By comparison, the average price of a secondhand straight razor at a flea market is anywhere from $5.00 to $50.00, depending on how old it is, its condition, and where and by whom, and of what it was made. So yes, when I said that seven day sets were expensive, I mean they’re REALLY expensive.

And they can be rare, and if they’re antique, they can also be in questionable condition, and if they’re not, then they cost a mint to purchase. Because of all these reasons, such sets are often out of the reach and price-range of most collectors.

But, I digress.

Seven day sets date back to the earliest days of straight razors. Back when most people were unable to sharpen their razors themselves (that’s if they owned a razor at all), it was often the duty of the local barber to maintain the razors of his customers by periodically freshening up the edges. To lengthen the gap between sharpenings, men often kept two or three spare razors around to use while their main razor was being touched up at the barbershop. The practice of occasionally swapping out razors and changing them around meant that apart from needing less frequent sharpening, the bodies of the razors’ blades themselves, would last a lot longer.

Catching onto this trend, it became the fashion for cutlery firms which manufactured and sold razors, to start selling them in sets. Two- and four-razor sets are relatively common, the idea being that you could chop and change razors as you worked your way through the week, preventing excessive wear or overuse on any one blade. For those who could afford it, however, manufacturers started coming out with the much flashier-looking ‘seven day sets’ – with one razor for each day of the week. By using each razor only once every seven days, the edge of each razor’s blade was preserved and would last a lot longer between sharpenings.

Are such sets common items?

Not really. Most men only ever owned one or two razors, and simply sharpened, stropped and cleaned that one, or those two razors, for the rest of their lives. Seven day sets were often seen as luxury items, usually purchased by wealthy gentlemen who had money to burn, and who had the servants (such as a personal valet) whose job it was to maintain his master’s wardrobe and personal grooming accessories, and whose duties included sharpening and stropping their master’s seven piece razor set at regular intervals to keep the blades clean, smooth and sharp. But since such sets are generally rarer, but also of higher overall quality, they’re also highly collectible, and high-quality antique seven day sets from famous cutlers and retail establishments can fetch several hundred, or even thousands of dollars.

My Seven Day Set

As you may have surmised from what you’ve read so far, I’ve been chasing one of these sets for a long time. The better part of eight years! And after a long and exhausting hunt, I finally have one! The reason it’s taken so long for me to find one should now be pretty self-evident. They’re not exactly common, finding one in good condition can be tricky, and they’re also very, very expensive! But the gods of good fortune smiled on me, and I finally managed to get my hands on one!

The set which I purchased – at a local flea-market – was made in the English city of Sheffield in about 1900. Sheffield, like Solingen in Germany, has had a long and proud history of manufacturing cutlery of all kinds, from scissors to pocketknives, straight razors to silverware. If you’ve purchased a bladed implement of any kind, which has the names of either of these two towns marks on it, then you can be assured that they are blades of quality!

The scales on the razors which make up my set are certainly nothing flashy – plain black celluloid plastic. Although to be honest, if the scales were made of anything else, I doubt I would be able to afford a set of any kind at all! The blades are 5/8, extra-hollow ground, with wafer thin, almost ‘singing-blade’ edges. For those who have never heard of something like this, that means that the blade edges are so thin that they vibrate and flex when the razor’s being used, causing it to emit high-pitched rasping noises. Such blades can be tricky to use just due to how thin and flexible they are, but if you can pull it off, they give the most amazing shaves…

The case itself is made of wood and covered in red Morocco leather on the outside, and soft, purple felt and velvet on the inside, with the maker’s name and model of the razor stamped on the underside of the lid in beautiful gold leaf. Although not easy to read, the spine of each razor-blade is actually marked with a day of the week on it.

Is it a top of the range seven day set? Probably not. Something like this was likely more in the “plain but serviceable” range of merchandise. But regardless of that, it was in great condition when I bought it. It required all the usual things done to it – clean the blades, sharpen the edges, strop the razors, blow out the dust, etc, but the razors and the box that they came in didn’t have any real issues, beyond one or two cosmetic flaws – the result of being, at a pinch, nearly 120 years old!

Along with all that, it even came with a little bonus – the original product warranty slip inside the box!…probably way out of date by now…but it is interesting to read about what constituted a product warranty or guarantee 120 years ago! Fascinating to read. One wonders if such things will happen with old iPhones in 120 years? I doubt it. Most of them barely last 120 days…

Restoring the Set

Honestly, restoring this set was pretty easy. It really didn’t need that much attention. A bit of glue to stop the leather from coming off the wooden case, blowing out the dust and lint, and the usual cleaning, polishing and sharpening and a bit of rust-removal on the blades of the razors was all that was required. I spent ages at the market just looking at the set, weighing it up and scrutinising every part of it in minute detail before I ever decided to buy it, so I was very certain that there wasn’t anything wrong with the set that I wouldn’t be able to sort out myself. Thank goodness I was right!

I want to buy a seven day set! Help me…?

Seven day razor sets are pretty easy to find – just check eBay or any of the major straight razor manufacturers which are still in business – but not so easy to buy. As I explained already, they can be prohibitively expensive…especially if you’re buying one brand-new!

Given that state of affairs, perhaps you decide that buying a secondhand set might be more within your price-range? If so, then there are a few more things that you need to consider.

First, you need to be sure that all the razors actually match. The whole point of a seven day set is that all seven razors are identical! Every razor in the box should look exactly the same (except for the days of the week, should your set have these included).

Check in particular for things like warped or cracked scales, chipped or cracked blades, excessive rust, blade-wear and water-spots. Antique razors are made of carbon steel, not stainless steel. This means that they can rust very, very easily. Check for “frowning” or “smiling” blades (blades with too much wear in the middle – frowning, or on either end – smiling) – this is a sign that the razor was poorly maintained and sharpened incorrectly.

Light rust can be polished or sanded off with ultrafine sandpaper or steel wool, and a touch of metal polish. Heavy rusting which would impact the structural integrity of the blade should be avoided.

The next thing to do is to check the condition of the box or case. The majority of seven day sets were sold in handsome, wooden cases, some were plain wood, some had glass lids (although this is more of a modern innovation), and some were covered in beautifully decorated Moroccan leather, with gold-leaf edges. Check for any rips, tears or wear in the leather, and any damage to the box. Minor things which can be fixed with glue and a bit of patience shouldn’t put you off. Major damage like faulty hinges, catches, or cracks should be approached with caution. If you have the skills to repair such damage, then go ahead and buy it, however.

Interiors of these boxes are usually lined in silk and velvet, if they’re lined at all (some had simple, plain wooden interiors). Make sure that the linings are undamaged and that seams aren’t split or worn (especially around the hinges). Any gold-leaf decoration should be crisp, whole and legible. In some cases, it can be touched up slightly with a gold-paint pen if you can find one of the right shade, without ruining the overall look of the box.

Of particular importance – make sure that the box’s closure mechanism is sound. You’ll be in for a nasty (and possibly very painful) shock if the box falls open accidentally when you’re carrying it or picking it up, scattering your razors all over the floor – or even worse, all over your feet! Spring-loaded catches should snap shut securely, and clasps should close firmly. A case that’s held shut with a rubber band is a case to beware of.

Fortunately, my razors and the case which they came in were largely free of issues like this, so I was able to buy them and enjoy them without investing much time and effort into their restoration and repair. There really wasn’t much to worry about, and it’s been a lot of fun writing about them, and being able to share them with the world.