PepeH barbershop: Only gentlemen in the building
He moves like a dancer as he circles the chair, darting in and out to snip a bit here, a touch there. With each snip, there’s an artistic flourish—a flip of his scissors around his pinkie that makes you realize something special is happening.
Some travelers seek out exotic food, while others visit museums or explore natural wonders. Me? I always arrive in a new country in need of a haircut.
An Istanbul barber once gave me such an authentic Turkish cut that the immigration agent at the airport didn’t believe I was Canadian. I narrowly avoided missing my flight as they pulled me aside to verify my ID. In India, I sat in a chair on a dirt road, surrounded by a small crowd yelling advice to the barber as he used clippers with a questionable sense of sanitation. (He didn’t listen.) My hair has been cut at $300 Park Avenue salons and $12 fifteen-minute special Lower East Side clip joints. I am always surprised and rarely disappointed.
These days, I walk to Calle 65 at the edge of Centro to have my hair cut by one of the finest barbers I’ve ever met: José Juan García, affectionately known as Pepe. He’s personable, funny, humble, and incredibly talented.
PepeH Barbería Tradicional is an old-time barber shop that straddles the modern world and Mérida’s barbering tradition. The vibe is welcoming and chill. Your first visit will feel like walking into a shop you’ve been coming to for years, as have your father and grandfather.
They specialize in classic cuts and hot-towel shaves with a straightforward menu: Haircut, Beard Trim or Shave, and Haircut and Beard. I trim my beard regularly, but I always opt for the 90-minute hair and beard treatment for the hot and cold towels, soothing face creams, straight razor shave, and the chance to simply hang out in the space. (As I write this, I’m listening to Red Astaire, a musician I first heard in the shop.)
Trust is key when trying a new barber. After simply describing what I’m after, I add, “Do what you think is best,” and then shut up. I recall my first cut with Pepe. We talked so much that I wondered when he’d focus on my hair. Forty minutes and a very interesting conversation later, I looked up to find the best version of myself in the mirror.
I recently sat down with Pepe to hear his story.
At 16, he started humbly, cutting his own hair. Word spread, and soon, he was cutting hair for friends and friends of friends. On a trip to Mexico City, Pepe stumbled upon a barber shop that would change his life.
“There was an older gentleman in the chair who, at the end of the service, said, ‘Gracias, Maestro,’ to the barber. That was the moment… I wanted to be that barber. But my parents, a lawyer and a teacher, weren’t thrilled about having a barber in the family. I knew I had to study.”
Fortunately, an older barber took him under his wing, teaching him that pride and service mattered most. “My mentor taught me about fresh breath, manicured nails, dressing well, and keeping my station clean. He taught me all the important things about barbering service. Then I worked in a shop that taught me the business of barbering.”
After a few years, Pepe was ready to go out on his own. “My mom asked, ‘What if you open in my dance studio?’”
The dance studio was in his grandparents’ house on Calle 65, and in 2015, he took it over. He named the shop in honor of his grandfather and set up his grandmother’s chair in the front room. Once again, the word spread and the clients came. Now, the shop has four barbers, all trained by Pepe in service and technique.
Look closely, and you’ll see the attention to detail. Each station is perfectly laid out. The shop’s lighting is designed to illuminate and flatter, music is curated for the time of day, and the barbers use classic hand massagers on your shoulders as you relax under a hot towel.
The smocks they wear have the Mexican flag embroidered on the collar, barber pole colors on the side of the pocket, and swing shoulders for ease of movement. Most people would use an off-the-rack smock, but Pepe wanted these to express his idea of how a proper barber should dress and act and show his pride in being a Mexican barber.
That nod to tradition paid off.
“I studied with a guy who was the grandson of Fernando Capetillo, the most famous barber in Mérida… he was Pedro Infante’s barber. When I opened my shop, my friend put me in touch with his uncle, who had all the old equipment. He gave me an original razor, and then I saw four chairs in the back. He told me those were broken, so I said, ‘If someday you want to sell them, this is my number.’ Months later, he came to my shop and saw me serving and cutting. He understood. And he told me, ‘My dad’s chair is going to be better here with you. That’s your chair now.’ My chair now… from the most famous barber in Mérida.”
It’s a good chair.
Last fall, I returned to NYC and saw my barber. He ran his fingers through my hair.
“Who gave you your last cut?”
“My barber in Mexico.”
He nodded. “He really knows what he’s doing.”
Writer David N. McIlvaney splits his time between Mérida and the Catskill Mountains of New York, where he draws water, hews wood, and ponders his relationship with the outdoors.
