About this location
A few stories people tell about this place
1. At closing time one day, a little girl ran into Lace Me by J Lacy, her eyes wide with wonder. The stylist noticed she wasn’t alone—her doll’s hair had been meticulously styled and decorated with tiny flowers. The stylist smiled, took out a comb, and gently untangled the delicate arrangement. ‘You’ve got quite an artist here,’ she said, handing the amazed child back her doll. Just then, another customer—a delivery driver—walked in, asking for his usual haircut. “Maybe next time,” the stylist winked at the girl, as she went back to her scissors, humming softly.
2. While waiting for her haircut one afternoon, an impatient customer blurted out, ‘I can’t believe I’m here again!’ The stylist smiled and replied, ‘Welcome back—you’re our most frequent visitor.’ A delivery driver sighed next to her, muttering under his breath, 'This place is like my second home.' The stylist laughed softly, replying, 'That's because you're always dropping off coffee orders!'
3. Early morning fog lingered over Main Street when a delivery driver pulled up to Lace Me by J Lacy. As he stepped inside, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and shampoo mingled oddly in the air. The delivery driver looked around curiously, noticing an old photo album on the counter. Flipping through it, he found himself laughing out loud—all the stylists were posing with their clients’ most outrageous hairstyles from years ago.Embarrassed, he quickly closed the book, only to hear someone say, ‘Morning, stranger! That’s our tradition—documenting every wacky style.’
4. Early morning mist wrapped around the streets of New Orleans as a delivery driver pulled up to Lace Me by J, wondering if anyone had ordered pastries again. As he approached the door, he heard soft laughter and music from inside—a regular Tuesday morning at Lace Me by J. A familiar voice called out: ‘Hey, baker boy! Your usual banana bread is ready!’ The delivery driver smiled, shook his head, and walked in, knowing full well that no one here ever orders pastries—except maybe for the lady who gets her hair done every Wednesday.’