Step inside the Bushwick barbershop Hairrari and you’ll see a transgender flag and a shelf lined with bottles of Gay Spray leave-in conditioner.
Hairrari bills itself as a “gender-neutral barbershop” and stylists there specialize in cuts that are popular with the queer community. They encourage self-expression — the wackier the cut, the better.
“I always have clients that come in and say they want to look noticeably gay,” said stylist Ashton Wells.
“I grew up in Alabama, and it’s not a queer world at all,” said Wells. “You do everything you can to not look queer. And then you come somewhere like here and people want to stand out.”
Ashton Wells cuts Max Adler's hair at Hairrari in Bushwick.
Wells said this “noticeably gay” look, which might include eyebrow slits or buzzcuts, allows queer people to recognize each other in public spaces like coffee shops.
Hairrari, which opened in 2011, and now has locations in Manhattan and Los Angeles, was the first among a slew of salons in Brooklyn that cater to the queer community.
These spaces have gained popularity after the pandemic, and many strive to be completely gender-neutral, rather than offering certain cuts to certain genders.
There’s Exhibit Salon and Baddies in Greenpoint. Queen of Swords in Bushwick. Badlands in Park Slope.
Several, unconventional spots have even opened in the last three years. There are hairdresser collectives like Mutiny and Wavelength. Or smaller, independent practices like Sabrina Ring (@sabrinassillysaloon) or Elias Lin (@yourqueerbarber). These newer hairdressers are creating their own, often DIY spaces — where they might snip mullets and microbangs in their own apartments.
Regardless of venue, the aim is to create a safe space — though there are varying opinions about how to do that, or what that means. And many younger stylists argue that older stalwarts aren’t trying hard enough to be inclusive.
“There’s a new generation of stylists who are breaking down barriers and maybe breaking the rules a little bit more,” said Lin, who advertises his at-home studio through Instagram or apps like Lex (“it’s queer, it’s here”).
‘Hair is the first thing we can alter and feel more like ourselves’
Though a haircut can sound like a cosmetic service, a good one can be vital to an LGBTQ+ person, said gender sociologist Simone Kolysh.
“Hair is never just hair,” said Kolysh, but rather it’s “an extension of our identities and self-expression.”
Max Adler reviews his haircut.
At most traditional barbershops or salons, assumptions are often made based on how your gender is perceived, said Lex Levi, a barber at Mutiny, a collective focused on gender-affirming cuts.
“A queer or trans barber thinks about gender in different ways,” they said. “If someone says they want a masculine haircut, or a feminine haircut, their next question is, what does that mean to you?”
For some clients, like Max Adler, 35, the appeal goes beyond identity – queer salons can offer a feeling of safety.
As a competitive boxer, Adler was all too-familiar with straight, cisgender barbershops. For years, he hid his identity for fear that he would not be accepted in a typically male space. Often, he said he was almost “found out” when barbers encouraged him to follow the shop’s Instagram or asked him personal questions.
“I kept hopping from barbershop to barbershop,” he said. “I was keeping a secret.”
At Hairrari, Adler said he doesn’t have to hide.
He was there on a May afternoon to get his fade touched up. He also wanted a spiky lightning bolt carved into the side.
As Wells trimmed, shaved and combed, the pair traded tips and tricks on styling their hair post-testosterone.
“Hair is the first thing we can alter and feel more like ourselves,” said Wells. “I know how to do queer hair because I am queer.”
‘Saying that it’s a safe space doesn’t actually make it a safe space’
Elias Lin, 23, said he hoped to serve his community when he started the Instagram account “yourqueerbarber,” which he uses to advertise his work.
“I wanted to create a safe space for other queer people to exist in.”
He said that existing spaces — including Hairrari — didn’t meet his expectations. He said the shop charged high prices while not paying employees enough.
“There are no queer-friendly hair salons,” he said. “The presence of a hierarchy and commission system ends up creating an environment in which queerness is not actually celebrated, it’s just commercialized.”
In an email, Hairrari’s founder Ryczko stated that “Hairrari is commission-based but there is no hierarchy among our team.” She added that Hairrari offers some pay-what-you-wish and free haircuts in order to train new barbers.
Lin, who identifies as queer, said that a true queer salon minimizes cost barriers for both the stylist and the client. He noted that unemployment disproportionately affects trans people and that many salons don’t account for this income inequality in their services.
“If you’re wanting to serve a community, but you’re not willing to see the fact that a percentage of that community is unemployed, or that a percentage of that community doesn’t have stable housing, you’re only able to serve a very specific sector of that community.”
Lin says that the exclusive nature of these salons extend far beyond prices. Despite branding themselves with pride colors or symbols, some of the salons he’s worked at were not educated on gender diversity or enforce gender norms around haircuts. Some of his clients came to him after experiencing transphobic remarks at other salons.
Lin offers sliding scale services starting at $100 or less. Sometimes, he’ll cut hair in exchange for tattoos or meals.
He took advantage of pandemic-era business shifts, when stylists started transitioning to private studios. He said his “off-the-grid system” circumvents rental fees and allows him to provide accessible services. “Because I’m able to work out of my home, I’m able to keep prices on the lower side,” he said.
Elias still has to work as an apprentice in another hair salon in order to pay the bills. Still, he said he believes the private practice will sustain him someday: “I want to fill my chair with clients who are going to give back to me as much as I do.”
Other stylists, like the group at Mutiny, left their previous employers in July 2022 after deciding that certain queer salons weren’t as welcoming as they said they were. (They declined to name the salons.) They formed a collective in Gowanus focused on queer-affirming cuts.
“Saying that it’s a safe space doesn’t actually make it a safe space,” said Smokey Black, one of the group’s founders, who said he’s been misgendered and asked inappropriate questions in past jobs at hair salons.
Black works full-time at Mutiny and says the business model works because he doesn’t have a boss “exploiting” his labor. He offers sliding scale cuts ranging from $50-$80 and offers two pay-what-you-wish haircuts a week, which he says are often free.
“It can be hard for queer people to get ahead in life even enough to afford a haircut,” he said. “By offering pay-what-you-wish, it’s our way of telling people that we see you. We know it’s hard. We are you and we love you.”
Levi, another barber at Mutiny, said they expect a “reinventing” of the industry.
“Being a queer barbershop to us is more than just haircuts,” they said. “It’s about creating a space rooted in anti-oppression — and making decisions based on community over capitalism.”
