A major bastion in any community, along with the dep and that church parking lot where small-time drug deals take place, the barbershop is the universally recognized male refuge, a place where you re-up on your fresh and find out what the business is around your way. In beautiful Muntree, we have a gang of storied barbers who’ve been lining the city up for years. From traditional black barbers to the young Spanish kids who just got into the game after the reggaeton explosion made every Queb in Villeray want a Cangri cut, the following is a document of Montreal’s finest and most infamous headcutters. This one’s for those of us who visit on a bi-weekly basis. Those of us who’ve traveled across town looking for the sharpest blade. For the brave few who broke the color barrier and ventured into barbershops that usually didn’t cater to the Canaanite devil. Most of all, this one is for every barber who’s given their customers a second chance at life, who by working their magic turn us scraggly mooks into clean, quasi-symmetrical people. For being so instrumental in our ability to pull and subsequently pound the pussy, we salute you.

Photo x Shmings

We begin our excursion on the East side of things. Mook-Life has a tendency to cover happenings left of the Main, but Eastside Muntree is where the mookiest dwell. It’s where you’ll find Le Petit Maghreb, the second largest Haitian population outside of Haiti and all sorts of Spanishes, hailing from every part of the continent. Since rent is considerably cheaper out east, you’ll encounter just as many welfare recipients as mom-and-pop shops. Mook Hustlers!

Quel gros chilleur. Clearly belongs in a Beautiful People of Montreal post. Notice the barber pole made out of a PVC tube with red and blue decals. Vanglorious.

The handiwork of a master craftsman.

Shout out to Manu from Craeon Workshop. He knows the move.

Mooks, meet Krook. Certified O.G. triple O.G., he was putting in that work while you were arguing over who got to be the red Power Ranger. Pay homage.

Krook’s been putting me onto game from time. About Montreal barbers in the early ’90s, he says:

Krook: When I’d go to New York, to Queens, I’d see my cousins chilling at the barbershop, Dominican spots, Puerto Rican spots, whatever. So you’d come back to Montreal expecting to find a spot where you could get your lil’ fade, but there was none of that shit going on back then. There was nothing that would cater to anything that was not Afro hair. So, you know, being the ‘hood-ass spic that I was, I said “fuck that, I’ma go to a Black barbershop”. And, you know, in the Northside, you’d get grilled for that. People would think “oh, a White dude going to a Black barber, he’s a Wigger, he’s this, he’s that”. I didn’t see it that way, ’cause the whole New York vibe was “you’re Black, you’re Hispanic, it’s all one”. That was my experience in the Northside, but I’m pretty sure it was the same shit for Latinos living in St-Michel or Uptown, or wherever it was in the city that was predominantly Black and Hispanic.

This is Hennessey. She keeps a chair at Inspiration Coiffure, 1255 Bélanger. Krook swears by her, and is not the only one. Barber loyalty is a must. Just like a good auto mechanic, once you find one that isn’t on some other shit, you stick to them. They become a part of your life that is all too often taken for granted.

Krook: I would go to spots and I would tell them niggas: “Yo, don’t fuck up my shit, don’t be pulling the hairline too much”. I’d have to fix that shit up myself. I had to basically adapt to not being able to find a decent spic barbershop. I had a bad experience with this Asian lady who does fades, and she fucked up my shit. So when I went to Inspiration and I seen her, at first, I was definitely hesitant. I was like “damn, I don’t know if I’ma make the same mistake”, but I was pressed for time that day, so I said “OK, if she fucks it up I’ll just fix it at home”. She ended up doing a better job than other dudes that weren’t taking care of shit, you know? That’s why I just ended up setting appointments with her, it was a wrap from then on. Nobody puts their hands on my hair, except for my girl and Hennessey.

Not unlike other male-dominated fields, ladybarbers can have a tough time proving they’re able to hang with their testicled counterparts. When I asked Hennessey if she’d encountered any prejudice from being a woman in a boy’s club, she replied, in a typically Dominican accent:

Hennessey: At the beginning, of course, since they don’t know you. Once they get to know you, on the contrary, there are many advantages that a man doesn’t have. When they don’t know if you’re any good they won’t want to, but the moment they see how you cut like one of the guys, they’ll say “better to get my cut from her”. They’ll prefer a woman’s touch.

Krook: There’s something about a female barber that does her shit right. Her hands are smaller and more agile. Sometimes dudes, they’re a bit rough, but her, she’s just smooth with it. I don’t know, man. It’s the finesse. She has finesse that a lot of male barbers probably can’t get because they’re a bit rougher by nature and shit, but she’s definitely got it down to a T. I think that’s what makes the difference.

While Hennessey worked out the final touches, we decided to snoop around.

Homie in the pink Lacoste jumpy is Julio, owner of Inspiration and the H.B.I.C.: Head Barber In Charge. We snapped a shot of him schooling his newest employee on how to blend the light and dark parts of the haircut into a seamless fade. Each one teach one.

Julio told me the shop was still in renovation, and that he planned on adding more chairs to accommodate as many people as possible. Judging by the floor, it’s looking like he might could host next summer’s Merenguefest if they get rained out. ¡Coñazo!

And today, on Reinforcing Stereotypes™: Spanish people and their obsession with the Virgin Mary – fact or fiction? Let’s find out.

Final cut. We flicked it up, said peace to everyone and it was onto the next.

In the V, Krook pulls out this Borat picturebook he’d copped, for shits and giggles. We shared a couple yuks while smoking on some fine Afghan hash, courtesy of our friends over at the Canadian Armed Forces.

Next up – Plateau Beach. Hipster Mecca and home to everybody’s favorite Portogoose chicken: Romados.

When Vinny heard I was having a hard time finding volunteers for this article, he graciously invited me to hang out at his favored spot: G&G Barbershop, 28 Avenue des Pins. Apparently, some fuckmook tried breaking into the place, which is why it only reads “bier” instead of “Barbier”. I made a couple of lame Justin Bieber jokes, got me a Kronenbourg at the dep and we were on our way.

Definitely not HTO’s kind of street art.

Stush.

Mooks, meet Davis. He’s been cutting hair for about three years now. He also moonlights as a recording artist with Los Playaz, a Latin hiphop group based out of Montreal. Good peoples. I know most of you equate anything Latin with reggaeton, but let me say this: unless you’ve ever gotten winded on by a mami to shit like this, you just won’t get it, and that’s OK. Bonus points if you can guess which joint was used for the sample.

Trong Boy!

Tools of the trade.

G&G is renowned as the barbershop of choice for many Habs players, including PK Subban and Carey Price. I told Davis the next time Price was in his chair to accidentally trip and slide the blade across Price’s jugular. Not really, but really.

It should actually read “No” next to Mohawk.

The devil’s in the detail.

Sneaker Watch: Air Max ’91 Triax. Do the science.

I asked Vinny why he chose G&G over, say, King Cutz or Clipper Cuts, which are closer to his Uptown stomping grounds. He explained to me how the team manager at the skate shop that sponsored him ten years ago is now the owner of G&G. Loyalty.

We interrupt this post with a message brought to you by the good folks over at Real Life…

… reminding you that a little dour never really hurt nobody.

The only thing better than a quality barber is a quality barber that does house calls. CeasRock doesn’t deal in hour-long waits. He prefers to get his cut while he gets paid. I ain’t even mad at that.

Rest in peace, Shame Dawg. Gone but never forgotten. Real life.

You the man. Nah, you the man.

The banner in front of Mandrak’s (pronounced Man-Drah-Kah), 1967 Jean-Talon. Avoid looking like someone played Spirograph on your scalp. Do yourself a solid.

Hang-Hang Chain Gang.

Cake boss, minus the boss. Maru’s a DG original. A one-of-one, if you will.

Mooks, meet Aldo.

I cannot stress the degree of respect I have for this man enough. I used to travel from RDP all the way to the corner of Darlington and Goyer in the Côte-des-Neiges borough to get my fade from Aldo. When he opened the Spanish Harlem Barbershop, I convinced the DG mooks to come out east for the truth. They’re now regulars. After Spanish Harlem burned down because of faulty wiring, Aldo got a chair at Mandrak’s as an interim solution. He is, in my opinion, the sharpest blade in town. Davis from G&G learned how to cut from Aldo. A master is ranked based on the aptitudes of his pupil. Scroll back up for a second. You be the judge.

And now, another moment of miscellany.

Five bucks a pop. Ask Mandrak about bulk rates.

No barbershop is complete without a glass case that houses fitteds, watches and other items that may or may not have fallen off the truck. I can’t call it.

Sneaker Watch: Air Max 1 ACG Pack. Mook-Life approved.

This is Robz. A reformed stick-up kid, he found his saving grace in the kitchen. Robz is currently a cook at Rotisserie Laurier BBQ, which was recently taken over by Satan’s little chef, Gordon Ramsay. Redemption comes in the strangest forms.

We are front of a monument: New York Cut, 163 de Castelnau. Opened in 1997, it is the eldest of the barbershops we have covered and, perhaps, the original place to get a proper fade in the city of Montreal.

The legend himself, live and in the flesh. I introduce to you: Moreno.

Moreno should be declared a fucking national treasure in both Canada and the Dominican Republic. The man is singlehandedly responsible for thousands of people of all age groups, races and creeds coming together under his roof for almost 15 years now. Pay homage, goddamnit.

As for Robz, he’s just in for a quick line-up.

Most barbers nowadays will use a mixture of hairgel and water as a shaving cream replacement. Not Moreno. We call this one à l’ancienne.

Dominicans genuinely love baseball. Almost as much as they enjoy not pronouncing their D’s and S’s.

Photo x Shmings

There is so much that I was unable to cover. This is where you come in. Share your barbershop stories with us in the comments section. Who do you think has the sharpest blade in Muntree? Call us a bunch of high-maintenance faggots for all I care. Let’s raise the bar.

Photo x Shmings

I want to thank everyone who willingly showed their faces in their most natural state. A special thanks to the barbershops that opened their doors and allowed us into their inner sanctum. All photos by Revan Caluya for Aver Visuals unless otherwise noted.