Christine R.
Google
I typically go to salons, as someone born with a vagina tends to do. But since I am only needing the sides of my mohawk buzzed, I figured why not go to a barber. And after this experience, I don't see myself going back to a salon. Instead of 5 women bitching and gossiping with pop music playing in the background, this was a chill environment with a handful of dudes, tattoos, gauged lobes, no drama. He straight razored my racing stripes and then sprayed some magical musk on my head. I smell like cedar and birch or some shit, and it's like a confidence boost serum or something because I feel amazing. My cut has never looked this crisp. 10/10
