Unless your name is Billy Ray Cyrus, your choice of hairstyle is a serious, sometimes nerve-wracking responsibility. And like any other modern man beholden to concerns not only of image but also abiding fears, warranted or not, of inevitable pattern baldness, I usually felt more comfortable quickly and cheaply snipping just a little off the top. Always better to have something to work with, I say, without resorting to Propecia or a Giuliani.

But the stylists -- yes, call them stylists -- at L' Atelier de Frederic, the mercifully quiet men's section of the Frederic Fekkai Salon on 5th Avenue, have found a way to alleviate this and most every other hair care concern. Reached by a dedicated, discreet elevator, the salon consists of but four sumptuously leathered barbershop-style chairs in a private nook not unlike most downtown bistros -- white tile walls, black trim, dark wood, stainless steel, and flat screen TVs (careful here; Troy was playing).

There, over the course of two and half hours last week, Dominick Sedita put together the most carefully considered snip and shave this writer has ever encountered. He prescribed a cut based on the interplay of facial features, hair texture, and a cowlick that has lasted further into adulthood than my mother ever predicted. He slavishly applied the finest cleansers, recommending the restoring qualities of the More line for any fellow paranoids. The shave -- a languid step-by-step process first with the grain then against -- was, in its old world decadence and tempo, the grooming equivalent of a chef's tasting menu.

Sedita prides himself on the mixture of the guy-friendly barber style (read: free Scotch) and the full-service nature of modern styling. "It's a symbol of [my customers], not just what they're wearing. I will get a feel for what their job is like, or their personality," he said of the process. "You're not just walking in, sitting in a chair, and saying 'Give me a number three,' before they buzz your head." No need for a buzzer when the man making all the decisions can wield a scissor like a surgeon and make any fears of sub-par hairstyling vanish like so much 5 o'clock shadow. --NICHOLAS MOSQUERA

L' Atelier de Frederic
712 5th Avenue, on the 4th floor of Henri Bendel
212-753-9500

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(Star Caliber 2000; Photo courtesy of Patek Philippe)

There are scant opportunities in life for a true watch-lover to ogle the full spectrum of Patek Philippe timepieces. But for three days this week in NYC, the most extensive collection of Pateks ever exhibited this side of the Alps will be on view on the fifth floor of the Tiffany & Co. flagship. Four hundred pieces were selected to represent the company's 169-year history -- from an 1850 pocket watch to the very first Swiss wristwatch to the Star Caliber 2000 -- many of which have never before left the land of chocolate and cheese. The exhibit opens to the public on Thursday, April 24, and closes Saturday, April 26. (Its next and last stop will be Beverly Hills, where the collection will be on display at the Four Seasons Hotel from May 16 to May 18.) Could there be any better way to squander a balmy spring afternoon? --SARA JAMES

(The First Swiss Wristwatch; Photo courtesy of Patek Philippe)

(La Madonna della Sedia; Photo courtesy of Patek Philippe)

Fifth Avenue at 57th Street
New York, New York 10022
212-755-8000
Store Hours
Monday-Friday: 10-7
Saturday: 10-6
Sunday: 12-5

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(Perry Farrell of Jane's Addiction, John Varvatos, and Slash of Velvet Revolver)

Designer John Varvatos proudly took the stage at the restored site of the former CBGB last Thursday night.  Varvatos was celebrating the opening of his new concept store in what formerly  housed the iconic underground music club. "I'm not sure who had more fun -- the audience or the musicians. The power of rock 'n' roll showed its face here tonight," he exclaimed at the end of the evening.

The crowd was an intriguing blend of the old and new -- from the likes of Velvet Revolver guitarist Slash (formerly of Guns N' Roses) and acclaimed rocker Joan Jett to actors Bobby Cannavale and  Zoe Kravitz. Eventually, the huge group converged in front of the stage in what looked like a refined mosh pit.

Many of the 600 guests in attendance made remarks about how the venue hadn't looked this good in years. The original CBGB closed in October 2006 and, after many years of wear and tear, the space was in less-than-stellar condition, as can be seen in the small framed picture of the old stage just inside the store.

An avid fan of CBGB, Varvatos toured the space shortly after its closing and wanted to do his part to restore it. He decided to renovate the former club, preserving many of the original features, including the black ceiling, the awning over the entrance (which now reads "john varvatos 315 bowery" instead of "CBGB") and the walls that are covered in 33 years worth of stickers, fliers and graffiti.

Along with the cultural history that covers every square inch of the store, Varvatos has designed a limited-edition collection of his clothing to be sold only at the boutique at 315 Bowery. In addition to these rare finds, the store, which opened earlier this month, features vintage clothing, records and audio equipment, music memorabilia and books, some of which come from Varvatos's personal collection.

A handful of protesters proudly stood outside on the balmy evening, waving their posters with statements like "down with $800 pants" and "Luxury Out, Music and Community In." Despite the naysayers, many of the icons that performed at the event were quick to praise the designer for his preservation of the space. "We needed someone like John Varvatos to be the glue to pull something like this off," said Clem Burke of Blondie.

Varvatos has done a remarkable job restoring the historical space, but the creative accents he's added make the space even more eccentric. A shrine to the original CBGB, complete with candles, sits just inside the store, and a miniature replica of the Statue of Liberty stands in the window. Lady Liberty's flame has been replaced with a red light bulb, however; perhaps a nod to the alternative freedom of expression that CBGB will always represent. --BRANDON FELDMAN

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It began as an experiment in family relations: Boston native Lewis Cutillo was living in Milan with his somewhat distant cousin Franco Gazzani, whose father had spent decades fashioning made-to-measure shoes for friends just for fun (even their hobbies are chicer than ours). To the business-minded American, it made absolutely no sense. Less than five years later, Cutillo and Gazzani's Bontoni shoes have quietly worked their way into this country's most elite retailers -- including Bergdorf Goodman and San Francisco's Wilkes Bashford -- and onto the feet of an equally elite clientele. Cut from Italian leather and hand-dyed for seven days, the shoes boast details like perforated cap toes and personalized etched soles that Cutillo says render them "sexier and sleeker than most, yet classic enough to be worn 50 years from now." A single pair can take up to 14 weeks to make (fitting alone takes 45 days), and sell for $1,050 to $12,000. "Many of our clients have as many as 13 to 15 pairs," says Cutillo. "But since everything is done by hand, there are truly no two pair alike." When asked, he declines to name the company's boldface fans, although moments later slips Jerry Yang, Tom Brady, and Arnold Schwarzenegger into conversation, without the slightest hint of foot in mouth. bontoni.com --ALYSSA GIACOBBE

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Upon finishing their MBAs at Stanford last spring, classmates Brian Spaly and Andy Dunn did something not exactly typical of their degrees. Displaying a fair amount of undergraduate juvenility, the B-school alums set out to sell pants under their new label Bonobos -- a not so-subtle reference to a promiscuous breed of primate.

"Bonobos have more sex than any other animal" reads the company mission statement. If you can get past the frat boy branding -- and that's a big if -- the trousers are lightweight, comfortable, come in good basic and a few acceptable preppy colors with snappy linings, and run about $100 to $150.

(Credit: Jeffrey Schad)

Spaly, athletic though not of stick-thin proportions, had never been able to find breeches that fit him properly, even after scouring stores from Banana Republic to expensive fringe makers. During a winter excursion to Bogota, the two friends ordered up custom suits, with Spaly directing the Colombian tailor to stitch in a trim waist, seat, and thighs, with a slightly flared leg. Buddies back home took notice, and the now business partners realized they had hit upon a need no one yet knew existed.

Eight months hence, they've set up production with a San Francisco tailor; a website, and a word-of-mouth selling strategy reminiscent of the Tupperware or Amway model. Spaly and Dunn are hoping to create a network of well-dressed guys on college campuses and in big cities who will give Bonobos, well, a leg up. Just don't call their peer-to-peer gatherings pants parties. That's a whole other bawdy subject. -- JOHN D. ERICKSON

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Steve Coe understands the value of a quality t-shirt. "I want to wear it to death," he says, "I want mine to fall apart out of their own volition." His fittingly named company, Worn Free, is dedicated to crafting shirts with enough character to have endured for decades.

After hunting through photographic archives for rarely seen images of rock n' roll icons, he recreates the vintage tees worn by the likes of Debbie Harry, John Lennon, the Ramone boys, Zappa, and Iggy Pop. But Coe, a student of music (and a guitar player himself) originally from England, isn't just seeking superstar names. They may get the most attention, but he's more intrigued by the casual wardrobes of Gram Parsons, Mick Ronson, Ian Drury, and other artists that inspired the icons. "He didn't really give a shit about what anyone else is doing," says Coe, of Drury. "So it really influenced a lot of people. It's kind of like a great British institution really."

This focus on the 60s, 70s, and early 80s is no coincidence, says Coe, who got his start in the industry selling shirts like "Jehovah's Fitness" to Urban Outfitters. By the 90s, he says, "Everything starts to become branded." Thus, notions of working with favorites contemporary acts such as Super Furry Animals, and maybe dipping into reggae with Jimmy Cliff, will have to wait. But that's not stopping others from taking notice now, as everyone from Common to Travis to the cast of HBO's Entourage has donned Worn Free tees. "It's all kind of connected in a nice way," Coe says of his legendary roster, but it seems it's no less true nowadays. --NICK MOSQUERA

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In 2004, Cleveland sculptor Steven Tatar, snooping around the city's garment district, snuck into the defunct Ohio Knitting Mills factory looking for a 20-foot-long I-beam for a project. Instead, he found Gary Rand winding down what had been a thriving family business. For three generations, peaking between 1947 and 1974, OKM had produced mainstream American fashion for such merchants as Pendleton, Sears and Roebuck, Montgomery Ward, and Saks. But the longtime garment manufacturer had seen the writing on the wall: American textile production had been eclipsed by outsourcing long ago.

So what to do with 10,000 capes, sweaters, skirts, shirts, and pants--not to mention piles and piles of swatches--that had amassed over the company's history? Presciently, Rand's father and grandfather had preserved samples of every OKM garment, whether it went into production or not. This meant tons of vintage clothing that no one had ever worn, perfectly preserved. What's more, the designs were brave, from the symmetrically bold to the downright dadaist. So while Tatar never found his I-beam, he did find one of the most unique design archives in America.

In their patterns and colors, these clothes, which Tatar--who acquired the rights to Rand's stock--sells at his Ohio Knitting Mills store on Smith Street in Brooklyn, evoke postwar exuberance, when design blasted back the ration-minded anxiety of the war years. Granted, some OKM designs are a bit hyperactive, if not color-blind. But even the goofier pieces reveal tremendous care and craftsmanship. "They're playful," Tatar says. "They're even naive, to be honest. But the textiles themselves are extremely sophisticated." The cuts, too, are throwbacks: The sweater vests are short and snappy, since men used to dress in high-waisted pants. The shirts are tailored slim. We're reminded of an evolutionary fact--not so long ago, the American was, for the most part, smaller, thinner, perhaps fitter. "It's archaeological," Tatar says. "It's social history. And yes, it also happens to be cool." --PAUL REYES

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