Hair today, gone tomorrow as old salons close in Shanghai
By noon on Tuesday, his first working day of the week as Monday is the day off for his shop — the Nanjing Hair Salon in Shanghai — the 56-year-old Chen Mingxing has cut the hair of about a dozen people.
But instead of looking satisfied, the barber appears rather unhappy.
Not that the Shanghai native dissatisfied with his morning’s work. But the manager of the city’s, as well as the country’s, most historic hair salon is worried that despite a lot of customers this may not be enough to sustain the over 80-year-old business.
“Summer is particularly tough. With less hair-dying and curling, we have not been making profits even though every one of us is busy,” says Chen, who has been working at the Salon for the past three decades.
Founded in 1933 by Huang Huapei, a Chinese-born American who was very upset by the poor haircut he got while in Shanghai, the Nanjing Hair Salon is widely known as the largest and most high-end of its kind in the city, if not China.
Its two-floor space covers an esti- mated area of around 500 square meters, and boasts 27 seats attended by some 70 staff.
According to the Shanghai Chronicle, in the1950s, there were about 200 branded barber shops in the city, 50 of which were listed as premium.
But Nanjing Hair Salon remained the most expensive and coveted among the 50, mostly frequented by local celebrities and the wealthy, because of its imported equipment and location on Nanjing Road West, one of the most bustling commercial streets in China.
At its peak in the 1930s and later in the 1980s, lines outside the salon used to form before sunrise, especially before Chinese New Year, as tradition has it that a haircut means a new outlook.
Well-known figures that used to have their hair done at the salon included Soong Meiling, film star Hu Die and Ruan Lingyu.
“Barbers here were more like celebrities,” says Chen.
Chen’s father was a barber as well, and his given name, Mingxing, actually means celebrity in Chinese.
Chen Danyan, a writer and a widely recognized spokesperson for Shanghai, described the Shanghai ladies’ attachment to their hairstylists and tailors, as “closer than with their husbands”.
“The relationship typically straddled generations, extended to daughters and sometimes even granddaughters,” Chen wrote.
Chen, the barber, boasted that among his customers, there was one family that had left their hair to him for over four generations.
“The best barber is the one who knows what (type of ) hairstyle you want before you tell him. It’s a tacit agreement achieved through decades and familiarity,” said one of Chen’s customers surnamed Fan, who has been with him for about 20 years.
However, Chen says that the bond between customers and barbers is unlikely to carry on with the younger generation, as young people go for trendier Japanese and Korean hairstyles.
Last summer, Shanghai’s Xinghuo Hairshop was shut, leaving Nanjing as one of two survivors from a golden age.
Slowly, an era characterized by white capes, manual barber chairs and generous tipping is dying.
Strangely, this is one industry that has been left alone by foreign investors — 90 percent of the hair shops in China are local business says Chen.
A major reason may be the belief that only Chinese barbers know how to cut Chinese hair, which is thicker and harder than that of foreigners.
Also, the high turnover of staff at private businesses nowadays makes it quite impossible to have bonds
The relationship typically straddled generations, extended to daughters and sometimes even granddaughters.” Chen Danyan, a writer and a widely recognized spokesperson for Shanghai
between barbers and their customers.
One “detail” that Chen takes great pride in is in white towels. With a tradition of offering a warm white towel to every customer, the shop throws away an average of 300 towels every month.
“But young people care little about bonds or white towels. All they are looking for is a trendy hairstyle or color that lasts no more than one month,” says Chen.