A proper
chair to sit in.
Three generations of scissor work, open blades and hot towels on Pellmore Lane. No walk-ins, no queue tickets — your name goes in the ledger.
Take the Chair1948
3
11
4
We kept the floor, the strop and the habit of writing names down by hand.
Harold Ashgrove opened the shop the year the rationing eased, with two chairs bought secondhand from a hotel on Great Portland Street. One of them is still in use — re-leathered twice, oxblood both times, because his son refused to consider another colour.
We take four clients an hour, not nine. Every cut begins with a conversation and ends with a brush-down and a note in the ledger about what we did, so the next visit starts where this one stopped.
“If the man in the chair is in a hurry, we send him somewhere else — kindly.”
On the board
Four chairs. Three barbers. One ledger.
Green tile, brass rail, one radio.
The counter is marble from the original fitting. The tile was laid in 1948 and repaired twice. There is coffee in the morning, malt after four, and a rule against speakerphones that we enforce without apology.
- 08:00 — 19:30
- 08:00 — 18:00
- 10:00 — 16:00
- Closed — blades honed