The Standard Studio

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. At night, when The Standard Studio closed its doors, a soft humming sound would drift through the streets. A delivery driver noticed it first, thinking it might be an old refrigerator left behind. But no one else could hear it—until one evening, a regular sitting in his car outside swore he saw a faint light flickering inside. Soon enough, word spread among the neighbors that if you parked your car just right, you’d catch a glimpse of the mysterious light. One curious resident even claimed she saw a shadowy figure cutting hair mid-air. Turns out, it was just the owner’s cat, Mr. Whiskers, who loved watching TV from the window while pretending to be a world-famous stylist. The humming? Just him purring contentedly.

2. Late one morning, as a delivery driver pulled up outside The Standard Studio, he noticed something peculiar wafting from the open window. A faint scent of freshly baked cookies filled the air, mingling with the usual aroma of shampoo and conditioner. Curious, the delivery driver peered inside through the window and saw only an empty chair and a row of combs. Suddenly, a voice called out from behind the curtain: 'Next customer!' Turned out it was just the owner’s parrot, practicing for his new career as a stylist.

3. Late one afternoon, while a delivery driver parked his truck near The Standard Studio, he noticed an unusual scent wafting from the alley behind the salon. Curious, he followed the aroma around the corner and found the source—a small, open window filled with fragrant herbs and flowers. Inside, a regular customer was tending to a miniature garden, humming softly as she tended to her plants. ‘That’s quite the herb garden you’ve got there,’ remarked the driver. She smiled, replying, “Oh, it’s not just any garden—it’s my secret recipe for the best-smelling shampoo in town!” He laughed, shaking his head, and drove off, leaving behind a whiff of laughter and a lingering scent of lavender.

4. At dawn, when most salons were still quiet, a faint echo of laughter could be heard coming from inside The Standard Studio. One morning, an elderly neighbor walked in and asked for a trim. As she left, she turned back with a smile, whispering, ‘I’ll never understand why they always cut my hair so short.’ The owner shrugged and replied, ‘Ma’am, that’s just how it looks at dawn!’