The Gentleman’s Shaving Bowl: Inside Brousseau & Dov with David Altshuler
ShaveSplash had the pleasure of meeting David Altshuler, founder of Brousseau & Dov, at the Great Mid-Atlantic Wet Shavers Meetup in Philadelphia. An artisan specializing in fine porcelain shaving bowls, David has created something that seems to have stepped straight out of the golden age of traditional wet shaving at the turn of the 20th century.
With their elegant designs, exquisite artwork, and unmistakable craftsmanship, his bowls are as much collectible works of art as they are functional shaving accessories. They bring a welcome touch of refinement and sophistication to a ritual we already hold dear.
We were sufficiently captivated to purchase one ourselves, and it has been a fixture in our shaving routine ever since. Each use remains a small pleasure, not merely for the bowl's excellent performance, but for the simple delight of handling something so beautifully made.
A devoted wet shaver and enthusiast himself, David founded Brousseau & Dov with a vision of creating something truly special for the community. We invited him to share the story behind his craft, the inspiration for his designs, and his vision for the future.
Here's David, in his own words... 1. You came to traditional wet shaving after more than two decades of using an electric razor. What prompted that transition, and what was it about traditional shaving that captured your imagination? Tell us about how you fell down the rabbit hole.
I wasn't looking to change my shaving method. Like most young men of my generation, I started with cartridge razors. I loved the closeness, but my skin didn't always agree. I remember complaining to my barber, who suggested either shaving with the grain or switching to an electric razor. Shaving with the grain left more stubble than I cared for, so I chose the electric. Neither option was particularly satisfying, but the electric seemed the better of two imperfect choices.
Interestingly, my appreciation for traditional wet shaving began long before I actually took it up. My father liked fine tools and well-made products, particularly things intended to last. Sometime in the 1970s, he visited a local cutlery shop, one of the few places selling traditional shaving supplies in those days, and came home with a shaving mug, a silvertip badger brush, and a few pucks of soap. Old Spice was his aftershave of choice.
He never went so far as to use a double-edge or straight razor. Instead, he bought a rather handsome cartridge razor with a pewter handle. It was a practical concession, I suppose, but one that satisfied his appreciation for craftsmanship and beautiful things.
What I remember most was how much he enjoyed shaving. It wasn't simply something he did to get ready for the day. There was satisfaction in the process itself, and I found that appealing. I was already something of a budding gearhead, fascinated by mechanical things and quality tools, so I suspect it was inevitable that his shaving routine would leave an impression.
In fact, sometime in the late 1980s, I bought a badger shaving brush of my own. Oddly enough, I never used it. I think I was more attracted to what it represented than to any immediate desire to change how I shaved. It was a beautiful, traditional brush, and I simply enjoyed owning it. I still have that brush today.
Fast forward to late 2018. By chance, I came across a YouTube video featuring Brian Mulreany of Executive Shaving. It was a how-to video that got my attention. One video led to another, followed by a fair amount of reading and research. Before long, I purchased a Merkur 34C, a Yaqi synthetic brush, and a tub of TOBS Jermyn Street shaving cream.
The result surprised me. Here was something I'd essentially given up on decades earlier, and suddenly it was not only possible again but genuinely enjoyable. What began as an effort to improve my shave became an appreciation for the tools, materials, craftsmanship, history, and the small pleasure of taking a little time for myself each morning. And once I discovered how many wonderful shaving products were available, the rabbit hole opened rather quickly. Most wet shaving enthusiasts know exactly what I mean.
2. Most wet shaving enthusiasts are drawn to razors, brushes, or soaps. What made you focus on the humble shaving bowl, and when did you first realize there might be an opportunity to reinvent it?
I was drawn to the razors, brushes, and soaps, too. In fact, I enjoyed them enough that I wanted a shaving bowl that felt worthy of sitting alongside them. But I couldn't find a bowl that offered the same sense of refinement or permanence. There were plenty of perfectly decent choices in plastic, stainless steel, earthenware, and stoneware. What I was looking for was something more refined and classic, something I would enjoy seeing on the counter as much as using.
For a while, I let the idea go. Like many shavers, I was face lathering, and I enjoyed it. But over time I became interested in having more control over hydration, so I started experimenting with bowls. That introduced an entirely different problem. Some were too large to hold comfortably, others too small to give the brush room to move. Some had walls that didn't contain the lather particularly well; others had shapes that felt awkward in the hand. I began to realize that the size, proportions, and details of a bowl had a great deal to do with the performance and experience.
One of the most instructive bowls I found was a plastic children's cereal bowl that cost about three dollars. I had bought it for travel, without expecting much from it. Yet it worked remarkably well. It contained the lather, gave the brush room to move, and sat naturally in my hand. It also showed me that a bowl didn't necessarily need a handle, thumb rest, or elaborate grip to be secure and comfortable.
That was a turning point. I wasn't interested in making an expensive version of an ordinary bowl. I began to wonder whether I could bring together the qualities I had been looking for all along: excellent function, fine materials, a beautiful form, and the kind of character that would make a shaving bowl a pleasure to own. The more I looked, the more I felt there was room for something different.
3. Tell us about the founding of Brousseau & Dov. When did you formally launch the business, and what were the biggest challenges in bringing your first product to market? Is Brousseau & Dov now your full-time focus?
Brousseau & Dov began as an idea I worked on while I still had a full-time job. I had a background in hand-thrown pottery, so I wasn't coming to ceramics entirely cold, but the kind of bowl I envisioned was quite different from anything I'd made on a wheel. I wanted a consistent interior geometry from one bowl to the next. That meant exploring ceramic casting rather than relying on the natural variation of wheel-thrown pieces.
Around the time my day job changed direction and I was considering other employment, my wife encouraged me to give the shaving bowl business my full attention and see what might happen. It was a generous vote of confidence, and I took it without hesitation. We launched the business in September 2025, so B&D just celebrated its first year. Yes, it is now my full-time focus.
The challenges were substantial, and they weren't always the ones I anticipated. I knew I wanted fine porcelain. To me, it was the right material historically and aesthetically, and I loved its combination of refinement, strength, and smoothness. But wanting a slip-cast porcelain bowl and finding people who could make one to the standard I had in mind turned out to be two very different things.
My first priority was to make our shaving bowls in the United States. I worked with a domestic producer for months, from mold development through preproduction pieces, but we couldn't achieve the result I wanted. That was discouraging. I eventually sought advice from a professional potter, who helped me understand the challenges of fine porcelain production and encouraged me to look at highly skilled producers in China. I had reservations, partly because of the reputation Chinese manufacturing has in the United States. But the quality, craftsmanship, and precision of the porcelain I ultimately encountered changed my thinking considerably.
The bowl itself was only part of the challenge. I also needed an artist who could interpret the charm of early occupational shaving mugs without simply copying them, and a way to reproduce that art permanently on porcelain. Finding the right people for those tasks took patience, persistence, and more than a few false starts.
Looking back, one of the most important lessons was that I didn't need to know how to do every part myself. I needed a clear idea of what I wanted to achieve, a willingness to learn, and the ability to work with people whose skills were better than mine in their particular disciplines. That’s still very much how I run the business.
4. Brousseau & Dov has the ring of an old European luxury house. What's the story behind the name, and how does your family history influence the identity of the brand?
I love your description of the name. An old European luxury house wasn't exactly the plan when I started, but I certainly wanted a name that felt as though it belonged to the tradition that inspired the bowls.
At first, I made long lists of modern-sounding names. None felt right. Then I began looking more closely at the companies that supplied American barbershops around the turn of the twentieth century. Names like Koken, Kochs, Paidar, and Edlis appeared again and again. These were businesses that often carried the names of their founders, and many sold or decorated the porcelain shaving mugs that had captured my attention.
That suggested a different approach. Instead of inventing a brand name, why not look to my own family? Brousseau was my great-grandmother's surname, and Dov was my great-grandfather's given name. Dov is also a shortened form of David, my own name, so there was an additional personal connection. For anyone wondering, the easiest way to pronounce the name is something close to “Bruce-O” and “Dove,” like the soap.
I wouldn't want to invent a family history of porcelain or barbering that isn't there. The connection is more personal than that. My father, who was a civil engineer, had an eye for good design and a deep appreciation for things made well. I suspect I inherited a good deal of that from him. The name gives the company a connection to family and to the naming conventions of the period, while the standards we're trying to uphold reflect values that have been with me for much longer.
5. Your bowls have a distinctive interior geometry designed to improve lather production. Can you walk us through the development process? How many prototypes did you experiment with, and what did you learn about the relationship between bowl geometry, surface texture, and lather quality? What do you think are the qualities that most set your bowls apart from other bowls?
One thing I've learned is that a skilled shaver can make excellent lather in all sorts of bowls, or directly on the face. I don't believe a particular bowl is a prerequisite for good lather. What a thoughtfully designed bowl can change, however, is the experience itself: how easily the brush moves, how well the lather stays contained, how comfortably the bowl rests in the hand, and how much control you have as you add water.
Long before I experimented with prototypes, I tried all kinds of bowls: kitchen bowls, inexpensive bowls from local stores, and purpose-built shaving bowls. Each taught me something. The plastic cereal bowl I mentioned earlier was particularly useful because it demonstrated that a relatively compact, hand-held shape could work extremely well. But I wanted to refine its proportions and create something beautiful enough to keep for years.
The interior proved more complicated than I expected. A steeper wall helped contain lather, but it also had to leave room for the natural movement of the brush. The depth of the bowl mattered, as did the curvature where the floor meets the wall. Both influenced how the brush made contact with the bowl and how the knot and lather moved within it. Even the rim deserved consideration because with too much outward flare, the lather tended to escape. I wanted a bowl that felt intuitive rather than something a shaver had to learn to work around.
I developed roughly half a dozen 3D-printed bowl designs, along with six to eight variations of the raised lather feature. The testing reinforced something that surprised me: the overall geometry was doing much of the work. A little texture helped hasten lather development, but there was no need for an aggressively patterned interior. That suited my aesthetic preferences, too. I wanted the feature to be useful without dominating the design or making cleanup unnecessarily difficult.
Finding the right lather feature pattern was its own small odyssey. I studied old barbershop imagery, wallpaper, decorative ironwork, and plenty of sketches that went nowhere. Eventually I wondered whether the sweeping curves of the ampersand in our logo could be arranged into something more subtle. My early drawing was rather dreadful, but Laurent saw the possibility and turned it into a design that I think sits beautifully inside the bowl.
Perhaps the most persistent challenge was balancing performance and appearance. Many of the bowls I tested performed well but weren't especially attractive, while some of the most beautiful ones were less pleasant to use. The result is a hand-held porcelain bowl whose proportions, weight, profile, rim, and mild interior feature were all considered together. That integration, along with the material and decoration, is what I believe sets B&D apart. It's not one clever trick. It's the attention paid to the whole design.
6. Your bowls evoke the beautifully decorated shaving mugs of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. What attracted you to that particular period, and how did you translate its aesthetic into a contemporary product?
I didn't begin with a particular historical period in mind. I came upon occupational shaving mugs while looking for a more interesting and refined shaving vessel, and I was immediately taken by them. They had charm, individuality, beautiful decoration, and a direct connection to the lives of the men who owned them. A mug could carry an image of its owner's trade, and the illustrations made these everyday items feel remarkably personal.
As I learned more, I became fascinated by the culture around them. These mugs belonged to an era when barbering had a different place in everyday life, and they represented a wonderful meeting of practical utility and decorative art. The gold detailing and painted imagery could be quite elaborate, even on something as ordinary as a shaving mug.
There was a catch, though. As much as I admired them, I didn't find their traditional form especially well-suited to making lather. Their relatively narrow openings and restricted interiors limit the freedom of movement of a modern shaving brush. I wanted the visual character of those mugs, but I also wanted the functionality of a carefully designed contemporary bowl.
That became the central idea: not a reproduction of an antique, but a continuation of its spirit. We kept the fine porcelain, expressive illustrations, and gold accents, then brought them to a new shape designed around today's shaving norms. I like to think B&D picks up a thread from that tradition and carries it forward in a different form.
It also meant treating the decoration as an integral part of the bowl rather than an afterthought. I wanted the illustrations to complement the curved porcelain surface, with the gold detailing providing a finishing touch reminiscent of the original occupational mugs. Together, these elements honor the tradition without making the bowl feel like a museum piece. My hope is that shavers will appreciate the character and charm of that history, even if they're unfamiliar with it, simply because the bowl is beautiful to look at and a pleasure to use.
7. Each of your bowls has its own personality, from Two Barbers to Sea Dog and King of the Road. How do you develop the concepts, and what is your creative collaboration with artist Laurent Trelaun like? Do any of the designs have particularly personal meanings?
That personality was very much intentional. One of the things I loved about the old occupational mugs was that they weren't anonymous objects. Their illustrations had humor, pride, character, and sometimes a little eccentricity. I wanted our bowls to have that same quality, even though they were being made for a very different time.
Finding the right artist was crucial. I tried working with several people, but the results didn't quite capture what I had in mind. Then I noticed something that now seems obvious: the bold lines, limited color palettes, and expressive imagery of American traditional tattoo art had a wonderful affinity with the decoration on many early shaving mugs. I'd been fascinated by that tattoo tradition since I was young, so it was a particularly satisfying discovery.
That led me to Laurent Trelaun, a painter and tattoo artist who lives nearby. I bring him historical photographs and other references from a collection I've built, and we talk about what makes a particular image interesting. I usually begin with the concept, but I want him to have genuine artistic freedom. We discuss the composition, detail, and overall character, and he brings an artist's eye to ideas that I could never execute on my own. It's a collaboration, not a commission where I simply hand over instructions.
More recently, I asked customers and fellow wet shavers what kinds of images appeal to them. I enjoy that exchange. It's a way of listening to the community without turning the collection into something designed by committee.
As for personal meaning, I suppose all the designs reflect some part of my interests. I grew up in the late 1960s and 1970s, when tattoos were still associated in many people's minds with sailors, military service, and people outside the mainstream. I was fascinated by their imagery and the stories they seemed to suggest. I also have a lasting affection for barbershop culture, classic cars and motorcycles, and the wonderfully imaginative illustrations in books such as The Wind in the Willows and Where the Wild Things Are. You can see traces of those interests in the collection.
I don't necessarily want every design to carry a solemn meaning. Sometimes an image is worth making because it has wit, energy, or a little mystery. I want my customers to find a bowl that feels like theirs, and perhaps smile when they reach for it in the morning.
8. Porcelain is a beautiful material, but it can also be challenging to manufacture consistently. How did you find your manufacturing partner in China, and what goes into producing the intricate illustrations, gold detailing, and precise interior surfaces of your bowls?
If I gave away the whole sourcing story, I'd have to ask you to keep a few secrets! Seriously, finding the right manufacturing partners took a great deal of research and more than one disappointing attempt. I began by looking for a way to make the bowls domestically. When that didn't produce the consistency and finish I wanted, I sought advice and began exploring other possibilities. Eventually, with the help of experienced people in the ceramics industry, I was able to have my bowls produced in China.
Fine porcelain is demanding. It's easy to admire a finished white bowl and overlook everything that has to go right to produce it. Porcelain changes considerably during drying and firing, and the very high temperatures that give it its strength also introduce opportunities for warping, cracking, or other defects. Producing a consistent shape, particularly one with carefully considered interior surfaces, requires excellent mold work, controlled processes, and experienced hands.
The decoration adds another layer of skill. Our illustrations begin as original artwork by Laurent. They're reproduced as ceramic transfers in Italy, brought back to the US, carefully applied to the glazed porcelain, and fired so the decoration becomes a durable part of the finished surface. The gold detailing requires its own careful application and firing process. Each stage has to respect the form of the bowl and the work that came before it.
One of the things I've come to appreciate through this project is that modern production and traditional craftsmanship aren't necessarily opposites. In fact, I've been surprised by how much specialized knowledge goes into making an apparently simple vessel well. I'm proud of the people who contribute to our bowls, and grateful that their abilities have allowed me to preserve the design rather than simplify it to make production easier.
The guiding principle isn't a secret: choose the right people, be exacting about the result, and treat consistency and finish as part of the product, not as optional extras.
9. At $125, your bowls occupy the premium end of the shaving accessory market. Who is the typical Brousseau & Dov customer? Are they primarily collectors, daily wet shavers looking for a superior tool, or people who appreciate traditional craftsmanship and design?
I think the answer really is all three, though I wouldn't claim we've been in business long enough to describe a single typical customer with certainty. Some people are collectors who appreciate heirloom pieces. Others are committed daily wet shavers who want a bowl that performs well and feels comfortable in the hand. And there are people who simply respond to fine porcelain, good design, and the historical character of the artwork.
What has been particularly gratifying is hearing from shavers who actually use their bowls regularly. I didn't design them to spend their lives on a shelf, however handsome they might look there. I wanted them to become part of an enjoyable morning routine. When someone tells me that a B&D bowl has become the one they reach for day after day, that means a great deal to me.
At $125, I understand that a bowl is a considered purchase. There are less expensive ways to make perfectly good lather, and I don't want to pretend otherwise. What we're offering is the combination of a purpose-designed tool, fine porcelain, original artwork, and careful decoration. For someone who enjoys well-made shaving gear and expects to use one for years, those things can matter. I think of it less as an essential purchase and more as a way to bring additional pleasure to something you already enjoy doing.
I've also been surprised by interest from people outside the enthusiast community, particularly those looking for a meaningful gift. A shaving bowl on its own may not be the easiest introduction for someone new to traditional shaving, so I've been thinking about how we might eventually offer thoughtfully assembled kits with other artisans. That could make the experience more approachable without changing what B&D is about.
If there's a common thread among our customers, I suspect it's an appreciation for the difference between something that merely works and something that makes the ordinary a little more enjoyable.
10. You've built a company around perfecting one particular shaving accessory. Where would you like to take Brousseau & Dov over the next five years? Do you envision expanding the collection, introducing new materials or products, or remaining a specialist in fine porcelain shaving bowls?
My intention is to remain a specialist in fine porcelain shaving bowls. That's the reason Brousseau & Dov exists, and I don't feel any urgency to become a general shaving-products company. There are already wonderful makers of soaps, brushes, razors, and aftershaves. I'd rather do one thing exceptionally well than add products simply because there's space for them in a catalog.
That doesn't mean the collection has to stand still. There's a great deal of room to explore new illustrations and themes within the form we've developed. One of the pleasures of the business is imagining what the next image might be and working with Laurent to give it life. I can see the collection growing, with each addition having a reason to belong.
I'm also interested in collaborating with a small number of artisans whose work I genuinely admire. A complete shaving kit, thoughtfully assembled rather than filled with generic accessories, could be a lovely way to introduce someone to traditional wet shaving. Beyond that, I remain open to complementary products that make sense alongside our bowls. I've considered possibilities such as a premium leather dopp kit, but I wouldn't want to make promises about products that are still only ideas.
Five years is a long time for a young company, and I'm learning as I go. What I hope doesn't change is the underlying philosophy: thoughtful design, beautiful materials, an appreciation for history, and a belief that ordinary routines can be sources of enjoyment. If B&D becomes known for making a small number of things exceptionally well, and for treating its customers with the same care it puts into its products, I'd consider that a very satisfying direction.
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