Face Foundrié

About this location

A few stories people tell about this place

1. In the quiet neighborhood of Brooklyn, whenever a child passed by Face Foundrié salon, their eyes would widen and they’d point excitedly at something unseen. The regulars noticed it too—a faint, perfumed scent lingering in the air after each customer left. One day, an enthusiastic delivery driver walked in, asking if he could get his package ‘magically wrapped.’ The stylist smiled mysteriously, nodded, and soon enough, out popped a beautifully wrapped gift—complete with glittering ribbons and a heartfelt note addressed to… himself! Everyone burst into laughter as the driver realized he was the recipient all along. Since then, everyone jokes that Face Foundrié has its own secret mail service.

2. At night, when no one else was around, the neon sign outside Face Foundrié beauty salon would flicker on its own, casting eerie shadows across the street. One evening, a little girl passing by stopped dead in her tracks, pointing and whispering, ‘Mama, it’s dancing!’ Inside, an old man cleaning the mirrors overheard the commotion and smiled. He muttered to himself, 'That sign's been doing that since I started here twenty years ago.' A delivery driver passing by paused to ask, 'Does it do that every time someone new comes?' The man shrugged, 'Nah, just when they’re pretty.'

3. At dawn, when the streets were emptying, a delivery driver noticed something peculiar: every morning, a small dog would appear outside Face Foundrié, sniffing intently at the door. Curious, he followed the little fellow inside and found an old lady applying makeup in front of one of the mirrors. ‘Excuse me,’ he said politely. She looked up with a smile and replied, ‘Oh, hello there! I’m just testing out their new foundation.’ The delivery driver nodded and left, thinking that maybe Face Foundrié had even stranger customers than he’d imagined.

4. In the dim light of an autumn morning, a delivery driver muttered under his breath as he approached Face Foundrié: ‘Who leaves their hairdryer on overnight?’ As he unlocked the door, a familiar voice called out from inside: ‘Delivery guy, you’re just in time! My hair’s been drying for hours!’ Turning around, he saw only an empty chair and a strand or two of hair floating in the air. Shaking his head with a smile, he shrugged and left—another day, another mystery at Face Foundrié.