03 — The studio
A bothy, in the old sense
I took the lease on a small back room off St Stephen Street in 2019, after nine years on salon floors where the music was too loud and the appointment book was somebody else's problem. A bothy is a wee shelter — somewhere you go to be out of the weather. That's roughly what I was after.
There are two chairs, one basin, and a window that gets the afternoon light at about half three. The kettle is always on and there's usually shortbread. I work alone, so the person who answers your message is the person who cuts your hair — which means I'm slower to reply than a reception desk, and I'd rather that than the alternative.
I trained in Glasgow, spent four years doing colour in a New Town salon, and picked up nails properly during the year the salons were shut, when I was doing my own at the kitchen table like everybody else. The nail side has quietly become half the business.
"Bring a photo. Bring three. I'd rather see the thing you actually want than guess at it."