Hooka Hair Salon Review

HOOKA hair salon sits just off the Beatles-obsessed back alleys of Liverpool on Button Street and is the second of two local Hooka salons in the city. The reason being, their hair dos have serious clout.

The blow dry could apparently even include pyjamas in the most scouse of cases.

I had travelled an hour on the train from Manchester to give a real challenge to the staff at Hooka. My hair had not seen a professional’s scissors for too long. Christmas parties coupled with a vacation down South and an enormously busy January meant my hair resembled something of a brassy hay stack.

Scattered yellow remnants of my Barbie blonde colour and dark roots that had once added definition, now only added to the shame. The only salon treatment my locks had seen in the past eight weeks was a quickie in a questionable ‘no appointment necessary’ barbers in the back streets of Manchester’s Northern Quarter. What my ‘stylist’ lacked in flare she certainly made up for in her ability to package a short back and sides with an offering of a weekly supply of MDMA. All businesses must diversify...

Still, we’re now in the heart of swanky Liverpool, WAG boutique Cricket is round the corner and even Vivienne Westwood has set up shop on the street. After meeting my hairdresser, Phil Gallagher, and being seated I went through the usual consultation. In a moment of sheer journalistic brilliance I gave Phil the power to take me back to the 80s. Yes, I fancied a high top fade à la Kid n Play, only the challenge was heightened by a lack of afro hair.

The Height Of Fashion, Inspired By Kid n Play

I’d always wanted one but perhaps it’s the more recent Simon Cowell influence or my secret love for Iceman in Top Gun that truly spurred me on. Regardless of this I knew the cut would be a challenge for any twenty first century hair stylist and thus the perfect way to test Phil’s technique. Needless to say Phil seemed excited at the chance to step away from the ordinary and unleash his inner artist upon my limp and lifeless hair.

Over at the wash basin the token intern washed the glue out from my woolly head. She has a way with her hands that can only be described as tantric, which is a good thing because her tea making skills were well below par.

Before And After

Post wash basin massage, it was time for Phil to take to the scissors and for me to question him about the salon. Hooka is a busy little place, proven by the three separate people that came into the salon looking for a last minute appointment only to be turned away gone 4pm on a Thursday evening.  Phil was one of five stylists working with a sixth and seventh making up the intern and receptionist. Spread across two layers the salon opens out onto an open plan reception, product store and main salon area with seven chairs. A stair case leads to five more chairs, two more basins and a colour preparation area on the first floor.

“We get a lot of weekend traffic,” said Phil as he looked worryingly at my split ends, “lots of people staying in the city wanting to get their scouse blow dry before a night out”.

A scouse blow dry? I had to know what one of those was and why on earth I wasn’t getting one.

“Think Kim Kardashian,” Phil told me, “long, big, wavy”.

Hooka, Liverpool

So, what Mancunians call a Cheshire-do and what those in Leeds consider from the wrong side of the Pennines. I couldn’t help but wonder, are there rollers involved? Apparently “that depends on just how scouse the blow dry is.” The blow dry could apparently even include pyjamas in the most scouse of cases.

Whilst Phil snipped, clipped and chopped my hair away, I flicked through the pages of the recently defunct Object Of Dreams regional glossy magazine. Whose name should I find in the under the ‘contributors’ heading but Phil Gallagher. My unruly locks were being tamed by a session stylist, as featured in one of Liverpool’s fashion mags. Quite the credit.

Feeling much more confident that Phil knew what he was doing, I pushed for what Hooka call a ‘shoe shine’. I had no idea what it was but only knew that I didn’t suit dark hair and didn’t fancy shoe polish in it either.

Phil explained that a shoe shine was a procedure that used bleach to lift just the ends of the hair by using two application brushes in a scattered motion as if one were tossing a salad. Sounded simple enough. The beautiful Sarah-Jane mixed the bleach (with no ammonia to give a quick and clean lift) and assisted Phil in his shoe shining technique. Pretty soon I was well and truly shined and popped under a heat lamp to bake.

Close Up Of The Shoe Shine

It was this solitary confinement that enabled me to take a further look around. All stylists were busy, the place was buzzing and every customer was smiling. It might seem an odd observation to make but salons have often been, for me anyway, rather dull places. Always a bit sweaty, drinks go cold before you can drink them and the hairdressers aren’t  interested in you one bit.

Unlike shopping or going to a spa, we rarely pop to a hairdressers with a friend and for a few hours we’re left to our own devices. Either this or we’re forced to talk about our holidays and the weather with someone who can’t cut our hair for checking their text messages.

On the contrary, Hooka won my heart - or was it just Liverpool? The staff were sweet, funny, well organised and kept me entertained during my stay.

The finished result further proved this salon’s worth. After a final wash and blow dry (not a scouse blow dry, just a regular one) my hair was looking very dry and very fluffy. I concocted the damning headline ‘Hooka hoodwinked my hair’ ready for my slanderous report. But, all this in haste because after a dab of product and a spritz of spray, my hair was sharp, light, with plenty of height. Well and truly scoused.

Jordan had a Director’s Gents cut (£36.50) with Shoeshine (£38). See below for further options.

Follow Jordan on Twitter @jordanjmcdowell and visit his blog: www.fashionrambler.com