Not a glossy chain, not a bougie postcode. A sunlit studio above a plant shop where the right cut can change how a face is read.
The first time I found the door, a girl in a vintage Arsenal shirt was holding two oat-flat-whites and peering at the buzzer like it might tell her secrets. Up the stairs, the room hummed — low chat, vinyl crackle, soft scissor sounds. A publicist hissed into her phone. A courier dropped roses. The stylist, lean and unhurried, carved an airy fringe that looked like it had always existed. Everyone relaxed when the mirror clicked. This wasn’t a salon so much as a small theatre where hair was the lead, and everything else knew its cue. The waiting list felt like folklore until someone whispered the number of weeks. The list is real.
Inside the quiet hype: what makes this chair different
Rae Khan’s studio sits above a plant shop off Broadway Market, all peeling brick and enormous daylight. The cuts don’t shout; they breathe. She calls it ‘camera-proof hair’ — shapes that look effortless on a phone screen at 11pm and still read clean in morning light. The look is East London: loosened fringes, razor-soft layers, shine that isn’t lacquered. It’s also meticulous. The scissors drop, pause, change angle. People come for a vibe and leave with geometry.
I watched a client arrive with bad sleep and big hair, the kind of week that turns into a fringe you didn’t plan. Twenty-five minutes later she was laughing at herself, smoothing the new line like she’d found it in a pocket. Her mate texted a photo to a group chat. Three hearts, two “WHO IS SHE”, one “send me the link”. That’s how it spreads — not through billboards, but through bathrooms and back seats. **One great cut becomes a testimonial every time it walks down the street.**
Scarcity plays its part. Rae runs a one-chair studio, slots in clusters, and blocks out time for film work when it lands. Fewer appointments mean fuller attention. There’s also the lighting: a north-facing window, diffused panels, and a mirror angle tested for phone cameras. Clients record the finish and post it straight away, which turns the feed into a live catalogue. Algorithms do the rest. The waiting list grows because the product grows out beautifully. Weeks later it still photographs right, which is a subtle kind of magic — and a very loud recommendation.
How to get on the list (without losing your mind)
The method is not mystical. Booking opens in drops, usually Tuesdays at noon, announced on stories and a low-key newsletter. Add the link to your home screen, pre-fill your details, and hover three minutes early. If you’re flexible, tick the ‘any stylist day’ option — Rae trains two rotating assistants whose follow-up shaping is crisp. Set calendar alerts for the last Tuesday of the month and two days before, then chill. The screen refresh is your friend, not your enemy.
Keep your message short, kind, clear. Say what you need (fringe rehab, grow-out plan, colour reset) and when you’re free. Be open to mornings. Cancellations spike 24–48 hours before a shoot week, and midday refreshes catch them. Let’s be honest: nobody actually does that every day. Still, two quick checks beat DM roulette at 1am. We’ve all had that moment when a mirror makes you want to be brave. Take that energy to the form, not to a desperate triple-text.
Politeness weirdly speeds things up. Rae keeps a soft whitelist for people who show up, tip fairly, and don’t treat assistants like coat racks. **Good vibes are a backstage pass here.**
“Hair is trust with scissors,” Rae told me, hand resting on the chair back. “I can teach technique. The internet can’t teach how to care.”
- Drop times: usually Tuesdays at noon, announced via Instagram stories and email.
- Deposits: £50 holds your slot; forfeited if you ghost within 24 hours.
- Referrals: one friend tag per booking drop; it helps, but it’s not a magic code.
- Accessibility: one step at the entrance; a portable ramp is available on request.
- Travel weeks: if Rae is on set, assistants open extra evening slots — watch the calendar.
Why East London’s most wanted chair says something bigger
It’s tempting to call this hype, but the mood in the room is gentler. People don’t queue for fame; they queue for feeling seen. A good cut quiets noise you didn’t know you were carrying. In a city that moves like a river, small acts of care feel radical. *This is not about hair so much as permission.* East London has always been a testing ground — art schools, pop-ups, warehouse kitchens, cheapish rooms where a thing can begin. Rae’s list is just the newest version of a very old story: someone makes something with soul, friends tell friends, and it becomes a place you want to belong to. **The list isn’t a gate; it’s a signal.**
| Point clé | Détail | Intérêt pour le lecteur |
|---|---|---|
| Booking drops | Tuesdays at noon via link-in-bio and newsletter | Know exactly when to pounce for a slot |
| Signature result | ‘Camera-proof’ cuts that grow out clean | Hair looks good on and off screen, for weeks |
| Fast-track tips | Polite DMs, flexibility, 24–48h cancellation window | Practical ways to beat the queue without begging |
FAQ :
- How long is the current wait?It shifts, but plan for 6–10 weeks for Rae and 2–4 weeks for assistant slots.
- Do you have to be famous?No. The list is mixed — actors, teachers, DJs, new parents. Slots go to whoever books fastest.
- What does it cost?Cuts from £95 with Rae, £65 with assistants; fringe tweaks are cheaper and often faster.
- What should I say in my first message?State your hair type, your goal, and your best days. One photo of your current hair helps; no mood-board dumps.
- Is there a cancellation list?Yes. Tick the ‘cancellations OK’ box at booking and watch stories around lunchtime.
