Great and all as it is, I’m going to attempt to reign in my gushing for London in the hopes that what’s being reported from various sources is of some truth – that Dublin’s undergoing somewhat of a renaissance with countless creative club nights, vintage stalls, and finally a street-style blog that faithfully represents us paddies not as perma-tanned Uggs aficionados or try-hard indie-types getting it all so v. wrong, but as the eclectic, exciting, and – dare I say it – sexy bunch we really are.
One thing I’m pretty sure we’re lacking, though, is a bloody good barber’s of the Murdock London ilk. Established by an Irishman, Brendan Murdock, in 2006, Murdock is a series of barbershops spread over London’s ample central area catering to the modern man whose just as interested in engaging in a bit of old-school dandy styling as he is in getting a damn good chop. With three locations dotted throughout the UK capital (the original store in Shoreditch, for which the likes of quiff-devotee Pelayo opts, the Liberty’s store, which also offers treatments for those barnets in need of buffering, and the v. traditional Mayfair branch, which, situated just off Old Bond St., caters to London’s professional and tourist types), the brand never ceases to please.
^ The unbeatably spiffy Murdock Mayfair shop window
Having been invited to the Mayfair store for a complimentary haircut or shave by the v. lovely Lewis last week, I couldn’t really refuse. I opted for the haircut despite having had the mop seen to by the amazing Jess of Ego Hair on Neal Street (as recommended by LSoD) just a few weeks prior – blame the thick, fast-growing hair genes. Can’t really say just how glad I am now that I did.
^ Handsome genius with a clippers, Stephane, who not only gave me the subtle quiff I was after, but also prevented me from downing that Peroni at a breakneck speed.
Having been given a tour of the store which, in terms of décor, is v. much catering towards the trappings of old-world gentlemanliness – think red leather barber’s chairs complete with iron-plate footrests (felt all v. Sweeney Todd minus the serial-killing and cannibalism of course, naturally, I loved it) and wood-panelled interiors, I was handed a cold beer and seated with Stephane, one of three stylists at the store, who, in stark contrast to every other person whose hands were responsible for my hair, asked me at regular intervals what look I was after, rather than carelessly flaunting technique.
And it’s not just cold beers and quality hairstyling that Murdock offers, each store also stocks rare brands from likes of the fragrances of French perfumers Molinard, to Fin’s suede loafers. So, not only do you emerge with a good cut, but you can leave looking and smelling the proper dandy, too.
And the result having had mah hur deed…
^ Shirt from River Island