why house calls, actually

people keep asking if the house-call thing is a stopgap. kind of. kind of not.

here's the honest math: a chair in a shop costs money every single day whether anyone sits in it or not. that cost gets baked into your haircut, into the pressure to book back-to-back, into the weird rushed energy nobody likes. when i come to you, there's no lease breathing down either of our necks. your cut costs what the work costs.

there's also the part nobody puts on a pricing page. some of you have kids napping in the next room. some of you have sensory stuff that makes salons a special kind of hell — the fluorescent lights, the four simultaneous conversations, the blow dryer chorus. some of you just don't want to small-talk a stranger while another stranger watches. at your place, it's your music, your lighting, your dog supervising from the couch.

is it more logistics for me? sure. i plan routes, i confirm two hours out, i carry a truly ridiculous amount of gear. but every appointment i've done this month felt more like doing hair for a friend and less like running a conveyor belt.

i'm still hunting for a chair — a steady home base for people who want one. but the house calls aren't a downgrade. for a lot of you they're the whole point. so they're staying, even after i land somewhere.

— mykey