Today:
Posted: May 14, 2008 in Things to do
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I looked in the mirror and didn't see a man looking back at me.
I saw a boy.
The hair all out of place, untouched by scissors in two months. The stubble on my face, untroubled by my Mach 3 in two days.
I didn't look rugged, or laissez faire. I didn't look Clooney. I looked sloppy.
There is no doubt that we live in an era of scruff, a time of untucked shirts, scratched leather and weathered denim.
But living the shabby life is not de rigueur. These days, there is no de rigueur. Nothing is enforced or expected by the dictates of taste and style. Not anymore.
But maybe it should be. I went to Red's Classic Barber Shop on East Washington Street, sat myself down in the cherry red leather seat, admiring the period fittings of the establishment, and readied myself for a glimpse of yesteryear, when a close shave and a clean cut were part of manhood.
I had come for the full experience, for "Red's Barbershop Quartet": a cut, shampoo, razor finish and straight-razor shave, for $45, with a $5 shoe-shine for good measure.
Tony, my barber, explained the process in detail, taking me through the many stages of hot towels, lathers, creams and treatments, and then set to work. I leaned back, nearly asleep, and let the master ply his trade.
The haircut itself was like any other. I didn't need a fancy flourish. I needed good lines and a strong shape, something that admits a receding hairline but doesn't whine about it. I needed sideburns raised, the back tapered, the neck smooth. Done.
You can see why so many movies have guys getting whacked in the middle of a straight-razor shave. The vulnerability is astounding. The trust you put in another man's hands, unparalleled.
But in Tony's hands, I felt carefree, and pampered. I felt the way a woman must feel at a salon, but without the small talk. The act was utilitarian, but somehow luxurious.
A quick wash, in hot, hot water. Shampoo, conditioner. Hair shaper, and a final glance in the mirror. Over.
The shoe shine took time, to keep the cotton stitching white and the leather black. But a proper clean and polish should take a few minutes. You want to walk out there proud of your feet.
And closing the whole transaction would be perfunctory enough anyway.
"Anything else?"
"No."
Handshake. Bill. Tip.
"Bottle of Coke?"
"Thank you."
Exit. Over.
I walked out onto the street, in my sweater vest and fitted shirt, and strode past a construction worker.
He had stubble and mussed hair, muscles and serious eyes, and laborer threads, dusty and faded.
He looked like a man. But so did I.
"Red's Barbershop Quartet," including a "Classic Cut, Shampoo, Famous Razor Finish and Straight Razor Shave," costs $45. A shoeshine costs an additional $5. For more information on Red's Classic Barber Shop, 22 E. Washington St., visit www.redsclassicbarbershop.com or call (317) 636-7337.