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Say It To Your Barber Once And Stop Explaining Every Time

Most bad haircuts come from a vague sentence at the start, not bad scissors. Give a specification instead, and write it down.

By Tobias Reed · Style & Grooming6 min read

The reason you get a slightly different haircut every time is that you're describing a result and your barber needs a specification.

"Short back and sides, tidy on top" is a result. It's also a sentence that covers about forty different haircuts. Two barbers can both honor it perfectly and hand you two heads that look nothing alike. That's not incompetence. That's you leaving the decisions to someone who's met you three times.

So have the conversation properly once. Twenty minutes, one time. Then you say six words for the next decade.

Learn four pieces of vocabulary and you're most of the way there

You don't need the whole trade language. You need enough to be unambiguous.

Guard numbers. Clipper guards step up in eighths of an inch. A 1 leaves about an eighth, a 2 a quarter, a 3 three-eighths, a 4 a half inch. A zero is the bare blade. If you say "a 2 on the sides," every barber in the country knows exactly what you mean. If you say "quite short," nobody does.

Fade versus taper. A taper is the gradual shortening around the ears and nape that most conservative cuts have anyway. A fade is a taper taken up the whole side, and it's described by where the shortest point sits: low fade around the ear, mid fade halfway up, high fade near the temple corner. A high fade is a bigger visual change than most men expect. Start low.

Scissor over comb. Sides cut with shears rather than clippers. Softer edge, grows out less obviously, costs a few more minutes. If you stretch your cuts to six or seven weeks, this is usually the better call.

Texturizing and point cutting. Removing weight from inside the hair without changing the length you see. Thick hair that sits like a helmet needs it. Fine hair usually doesn't, and too much of it is what leaves you looking thinner on top than you are.

Bring two photos, and make one of them the back

One photo from the front is nearly useless. The front is the part you can already describe. The back and the sides are where your barber is making guesses.

Pick photos of someone with hair like yours. Not hair you want. Hair you have. Straight fine hair will not do what thick wavy hair does, no matter who's holding the scissors, and a photo of the wrong texture just sets everyone up to be disappointed.

Say what you like about the photo, specifically. "I like how the sides stay close but there's still some length over the ear." That's usable. "I like this" isn't.

Then say what you don't want, because that's often more informative. "I don't want a hard line at the temple." "I don't want the top so short it stands up on its own."

Tell the truth about your mornings

This is the part most men skip, and it's the part that decides whether the cut survives contact with a Tuesday.

Say how long you actually spend. Not what you'd like to spend. If it's ninety seconds with a towel and nothing else, say ninety seconds with a towel and nothing else. A good barber will cut you a different shape for that than for a man who's happy to blow-dry.

Say what you use, or that you use nothing. Say whether you wear a hard hat, a helmet, or a hood most of the day. Say how often you're willing to come back. Six weeks and four weeks are different haircuts, because a tight fade looks deliberate for about two weeks and untidy by five.

The trade-off is real and worth naming. Sharper cuts look better on day one and worse on day thirty. Softer, longer, scissor-cut shapes never look quite as crisp but they hold their character for two months. Pick the one that matches how often you'll genuinely sit down in that chair.

Specify the neckline, because nobody else will

Three options, and they look meaningfully different on the back of your head for the next month.

  • Blocked is a straight horizontal line. Sharpest on the day. Grows out as a visible shelf, and looks heavy on a narrow neck.
  • Rounded curves the corners in. Softer, slightly more formal in an older sense.
  • Tapered fades the hair down to nothing with no line at all. Grows out the most gracefully and is almost always the right answer if you're not in the chair every three weeks.

Same for the sideburns. Say where you want them to end: top of the ear, mid ear, bottom of the earlobe. And say whether you want the outline of your hairline left alone or cleaned up with a razor. A razored edge is striking and needs maintenance. A natural edge does not.

Stop the cut in the middle, not at the end

The most valuable thirty seconds in a haircut is halfway through, when the sides are done and the top hasn't been committed to yet.

Ask to look. Say "can we check before you go shorter on top?" Every barber I know would rather have that question than an unhappy face at the mirror when the cape comes off.

Nobody can add length back. Going shorter takes forty seconds. So if you're unsure, err long, look, and then decide. That single habit prevents the majority of haircuts you regret.

Write the formula down the moment you like one

When you get a cut that works, don't leave the chair without the details. Ask directly: what did you do?

You want something like: 2 on the sides, low taper, scissor on top, four inches left at the front, thinned through the crown, natural neckline, sideburns to mid ear. Put it in your phone under the barber's name.

That note is the whole point. It survives your barber moving cities. It survives you moving cities. It means a stranger can reproduce your haircut on the first attempt, which otherwise almost never happens.

Rebook before you leave if you can. A good barber's book fills up, and "I'll call" turns into nine weeks and a cut you didn't choose.

When your hair isn't cooperating, say so early

Cowlicks, a double crown, a whorl at the front hairline. These decide what's possible, and they're the reason a cut that looked great on someone else stands straight up on you at seven in the morning.

Point yours out before the clippers come on. Ask what shape works with it rather than against it. Fighting a cowlick with length is a daily argument you'll lose. Cutting into it usually ends it.

Same for a receding hairline or thinning at the crown. Say it plainly. Barbers deal with it constantly and have straightforward answers: shorter sides to reduce contrast, no heavy fringe pulled forward, less product weight on top. Pretending it isn't happening just produces a cut that emphasizes it.

If it still comes out wrong

Tell them, in the chair, calmly and specifically. "The top's shorter than I wanted" is fair and fixable-ish. "It's too shaggy over the ear" takes two minutes to correct.

If you only notice at home, go back within a week. Most shops will tidy it without charge and most take it as useful information rather than an insult.

And if two visits in a row miss, it isn't a personality problem. Try someone else, walk in with your written formula and your two photos, and you'll be closer on the first attempt than you've ever been on the third.

The whole thing takes one slightly awkward conversation. After that you sit down, say "the usual, same as the note," and get your twenty minutes back.

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Tobias Reed

Style & Grooming

Spent a decade in menswear retail watching men buy the wrong size. Believes fit is ninety per cent of it and says so weekly.