“You don't always get what you pay for with a haircut. Oftentimes a pseudo-sexual head massage and the dubious whiff of heritage are enough to double the price of a snip. So, at Huckle, a no-nonsense barbershop that still charges £45 an appointment, you'd expect the service to be damn good. Luckily, it is.
Chris Ward, my barber, and the shop's owner, pays attention to the twist of my crown, styles a trendy sweep across my forehead (we are in the middle of Shoreditch after all) and even shaves off my neck fluff during a 45-minute appointment. The in-trim entertainment is limited to zeigeist-y dream-pop on the stereo, Chris's easy conversation and some locally brewed Howling Hops craft beer, or a glass of Balvenie whisky. With butchershop-white tiles and swanky but austere Belmont chairs the design avoids the old-fangled clutter of other premium barbers.
The attitude at Huckle is that men are grown-up enough to care about grooming without having to pretend to be in 'Mad Men'. 'Guys don't particularly like getting their hair cut,' admits Chris. But in this case, they had us at Howling Hops”