Rush on the Strand

Despite their name, you won't receive a rush job at a Rush Hair salon. Which is just as well, because I paid for some questionable ten-minute haircuts in my teens, which led me to debate whether I might ever have faith in anybody with a set of clippers. Bonus tip: don't ask your mum to do it instead.

It had been four weeks since my previous haircut, at which stage my hair had begun to creep over my ears and down my neck. It's easy enough to hide, albeit it's a mess worth tidying up before my hair inevitably takes on the appearance of a mop. Upon arriving for my evening appointment at Rush on the Strand, I was greeted by the friendly salon team and directed to a chair by my stylist, Michelle. My eyes were drawn suddenly to the crystal chandelier suspended from an ornate, vaulted ceiling - a reminder of the salon's former life as the ticket hall of the Vaudeville Theatre next door.

Following a brief consultation and complimentary refreshment, Michelle led me to a smaller room behind the main salon to wash my hair. (I hadn't immediately noticed the lack of sinks.) This separate room provides a more intimate and private space for shampooing, and has more distinctive décor than the clean white interior of the salon. While Michelle rinsed my hair free of suds, it certainly seemed a more relaxing environment, although I did ponder if Rush Hair might think to decorate the ceiling too, given customers have their heads tilted back for much of their time within the room.

Returning to my original seat, I was then treated to a scalp massage that very nearly sent me to sleep, followed by the haircut itself. Typically I ask for a short-back-and-sides with a trim on top, though I often give my stylist free rein over how it looks, because - let's face it - they know more about cutting my unruly hair than I do. Glancing in the mirror, I was slightly surprised the salon wasn't busier for a weekday evening, having clocked twenty-something stations, but only three customers. Michelle explained that particular night was one of their quieter periods, albeit they would be fully booked on Tuesdays, when the salon offers half-price colour services. That's a lot of ladies with tin foil heads.

After half an hour in the salon, including a second visit to the back room to rinse away those pesky trimmings, I was ready to reveal my new hair to the world. It may not be an eccentric hairdo, but all I really wanted was a tidy-up to make me look sharper in a shirt and tie (or roll-neck and blazer), not some mad hairstyle sculpted purely for the 'gram. That being said, I wouldn't oppose taking my hair in a wildly new direction, provided it doesn't significantly increase the likelihood of my going bald in the near future. Should any of you fancy doing the same, Rush Hair is offering 50% discount for first-time bookings.

Three-Piece

A sharp outfit without a sharp hairdo is as unthinkable as gin without tonic. It's therefore no wonder I rarely leave my flat at the weekend without a stiff quiff in my coiffure. Every six to eight weeks, however, I place the all-important responsibility of re-arranging my hair in the capable hands of Joe, my barber, who works at the new Marylebone branch of Ruffians. Never quite achieving the same look at home, I prize the days I have my hair cut, knowing I look my very best when I exit the Edinburgh-born barbers.

Skopes three-piece suit c/o House of Fraser | ASOS shirt | Next tie | Glasses c/o Silhouette

This weekend, my freshly cut short-back-and-sides was the perfect complement to my new favourite suit from House of Fraser. Not needing to don anything especially smart during the week, I look forward to the moments I can dress up for no other reason than that I fancy looking fancy. My friends say I should dress up every weekend, and I'm finding it hard to disagree with them. For me, there's no better ego boost than dressing well.

Delivering a style that fits my awkwardly tall and skinny build is my biggest challenge when choosing a suit, but I'm beyond delighted with this three-piece by Skopes. It fits so perfectly - broad shoulders, long legs and all - I almost forget it's off-the-peg. I equally love the metallic sheen in the charcoal fabric that detracts from the preconception of a dull grey suit. House of Fraser describes this three-piece as a "dinner suit", but I'm happier wearing it for a wander about town than a night on the town, married with my beloved Jeffery West boots and a Heart & Dagger herringbone overcoat.

This blog post is in collaboration with House of Fraser. Hair by Ruffians.

Ruffians, Covent Garden

Luke was visiting Ruffians in Covent Garden for a spot of moustache maintenance. Normally however, you might find him at Ruffians in Edinburgh, where he studies social sciences. He wears Grenson brogue boots, scarf and trousers from Gap, and an ASOS jumper. He is reading The Enigma of Capital and the Crises of Capitalism by David Harvey.

Cornerstone | Subscribe and Shave

Beards, unlike bow ties, are not my forte. By which I mean I am useless at growing one. That's not to say I don't try, but biology seems to be against me on this matter. After a week without shaving, all I have to show for my patience is an ever-so-slow-growing, patchy mess of prickly splinters. Sometimes I might briefly enter the "sexy stubble" stage, in which I look slightly more Mediterranean, but before I know it, my mother is soon saying I look dirty, and politely asking me to shave the dark fuzz from around my face.

With that in mind, regular shaving is important. So agrees Oliver Bridge, founder of Cornerstone, who wondered if I might like to sample his company's brand spanking new shaving supplies. Never one to say no to a spot of pampering, my shave set promptly arrived the following week, in which I found all the essentials and, rather kindly, an aluminium razor handle engraved with my initials. (Scroll down for details on how to win your own personalised shave set!)

Cornerstone shave sets are sold as part of a tailored subscription package, supplying the customer with regular deliveries of their desired products - including face scrub, shave gel, post-shave balm and razors - reflecting the rhythm of one's shaving routine. For example, those who shave nearly every day would receive a new set every six weeks, whereas those who shave once a week or less would be re-supplied every 24 weeks. The idea is so remarkably simple, I am surprised nobody had thought of it before now.

The important question, then, is: does the quality of products reflect the ingenuity of the concept? In short, yes, although each step of my shaving experience came with a pleasant surprise. I admit I am not an expert in male grooming and skincare, but a face scrub reminiscent of Turkish mud baths was unexpected to say the least. The dark grey scrub, made with volcanic sand, exfoliated my skin and gave my reflection a wild visage.

After rinsing my face clean, I then applied the ginger and eucalyptus shave gel - which smells amazing - and prepared for a foamy face. But much to my surprise (again), the gel remained... well, like a gel. I suppose the profusive froth produced by competitor products is rather unnecessary, collecting like fluffy clouds on the razor, before dissolving away in the sink.

Despite its minimality, the Cornerstone shave gel kept my face well-lubricated for the razor, which glided across my skin effortlessly, due in part also to the flexible, rubbery head. Best of all, even with one or two annoying spots, the blades didn't nick me once. In fact, I barely felt the razor mowing through my facial fuzz at all. How about that? Following another rinse and a towel-dry, I finally freshened my face with the post-shave balm, this one scented with mint and honey (which, according to my workmates, makes my face smell like chewing gum - but that's what every man wants, right?). 

And the result? A clean face, a smooth finish, and no prickles in sight. I know shaving isn't exactly the hardest skill in a man's repertoire, but after my first shave with Cornerstone, I understand at last what all those TV ads mean by a "close and comfortable shave". And if that isn't the bees knees, my face smells absolutely delightful. Now, if somebody can sort out my patchy eyebrows, we will be good to go...

And now your chance to win your very own Cornerstone shave set, complete with personalised razor - simply follow this link, enter your e-mail address, and you're away! All entrants will also be offered a runner-up prize of a £10 gift voucher to spend at www.cornerstone.co.uk. The winner will be announced in the next couple of weeks, so keep a close eye on your inbox.

Thomas Farthing time traveller, New Oxford Street

Another curious bystander at London Collections: Men, Sam's style is so much on par with 1920s fashion, it is as if he had travelled through time. A more realistic explanation is he works at Thomas Farthing, a nearby Bloomsbury boutique supplying garments reflective of Britain's most dapper bygone eras.

Ruffians

Hair styling has never been my forte. When I was seven, I asked the barber for a grade three all over. School friends compared my new hairdo to a prickly hedgehog, although in hindsight, the term "skinhead" would have been more appropriate. When I was fifteen, I hoped to grow my hair like a rockstar, but it curled instead into an unflattering mullet. Then in sixth form, I thought it would be a great idea to grow a stupidly long emo fringe, but that soon met the scissors, when the tip fell into a spoon of cereal. 

Since then, I toyed with various hair products in the hopes of finding the perfect look, but with little avail. Hairdressers could not achieve the style I wanted, without my knowing what I wanted. Rather, what I needed was for somebody to have free reign over my head, to show me a style that suited.

Earlier this month, my wish was finally granted, when I was invited to Ruffians Barbers in Covent Garden. Following a friendly welcome and a complimentary drink, I took a seat in one of their blue leather, Takara Belmont chairs, and surrendered my mop to the magic of my barber. In short, the service was impeccable, the result was pristine, and the overall experience was charming.

Having received many a disappointing haircut in the past, I had always been grateful if I ever left a barbershop with a mildly satisfactory hairdo. The Ruffians team, on the other hand, exceeded all my expectations, with even a few quirky surprises thrown in for good measure. This is not your everyday trip to the barbers.

The appointment began with a short consultation, during which my barber - also named Joe - advised me on how we might achieve a style to suit my double-crowned cranium. He noticed my hair had a natural tendency to grow into a Beatles bowl-cut, which he planned to remedy with a vintage-inspired quiff, atop my usual short-back-and-sides.

As with any quality haircut, my hair was firstly prepared with a shampoo and condition. But rather than tipping my head backwards into the Belfast sink, I was surprisingly asked to lean forwards. Interestingly, a front wash was the traditional means of washing hair in the early twentieth century, but the chemicals from shampoos were often toxic, which led to illness and - in one particular instance at Harrods - even death. To prevent customers from inhaling the poisonous fumes, the head tilt was reversed. Nowadays, shampoos are relatively safe to use, although we might suffer from the occasional soapy eye.

When my hair was squeaky clean, my second surprise was a scalp massage. I couldn't say whether this was to prepare my head further, or simply to relax me, nevertheless it felt very pleasant. Who knew my head had been so tense? (Too much stressing, no doubt.)

Then came the main event, the haircut itself. From the moment I sat down at the cutting desk, I had given Joe complete creative licence over my coiffure, and now the fate of my hair was in his hands. My mop was chopped and trimmed with scissors and clippers, then styled with Ruffians' own products. All the while, I felt my hair was receiving the care and attention it deserved, rather than being manhandled in a ten-minute blitz.

The final result was more than I could have asked for, from the precision trim along the back and sides, to the swishy quiff at the front. Joe even tidied me up with a light vacuum, which was an unusual experience to say the least, but for the first time in my life, I had no stray hairs itching at my neck as I sat up from the chair.

Of course, a premium haircut such as this does not come cheap. You may consider £45 as steep, but if you are looking for an ordinary cut and blow dry, you should stick to your local hairdresser. Ruffians offer an intimate service, which has changed the way I look at having my hair cut. They also provide a similar service for beards, though it will be a long while yet before my fuzz-less face can even dream of booking itself in for a traditional, cut-throat razor shave.

A few weeks on, my hair is growing out well, having taken Joe's advice on how to maintain my look and prevent the bowl-cut from making an infamous return. Without sounding too cliché, my visit to Ruffians was the best haircut I have ever had, and considering the hereditary curse of baldness could catch up with me in as little as ten years' time, I'd say it is worth treating my hair while I still have it!

Special thanks to Adam Brady for taking photos, while I was otherwise preoccupied.

Revisiting LC:M ~ Street Style Portraits: Part II

Revisiting LC:M ~ Street Style Portraits: Part I

Scanning through my archive of street style photography, I happened upon a number of portraits from London Collections, which, for one reason or another, I hadn't published to my blog. It would be a shame for those handsome faces to stay hidden, so over the final few days of 2013, I'd like to share them with you.