Charlie
Lopez
I’ve always worked with my hands. Barbering became the craft that took me places I never expected.
The chair changed everything.
I’ve been a barber for most of my adult life, but I’ve never looked at barbering as just cutting hair.
I like the part that happens around the haircut too. The conversations. The relationships. Watching somebody sit down one way and get up feeling a little different.
In 2008, I opened Urban Stylez.
Every time I opened a shop, I worked the chair and built my book there. As the shop grew, I’d eventually turn my attention toward whatever I was building next.
One shop became more. Different neighborhoods. Different barbers. A lot of people have come through those doors over the years.
But I never stopped cutting.
No matter what I was building, the chair was never far away.
Always making something.
Working with my hands started long before the barbershops.
Carpentry was part of my life early on. Making things, fixing things and figuring out how they went together. My father was the first one to put tools in my hands. I didn’t think much about that then. I understand it more now.
I’ve always had a habit of looking at something and seeing what it could become.
That followed me into barbering. I built clientele, built shops and, as Urban Stylez grew, learned how to build teams and systems too.
For years I even took the chair on the road as a mobile barber. I built the mobile barbershop because it made sense for where I was at the time.

The things I’ve built have changed over the years. The instinct behind them really hasn’t.
Another craft caught my attention.

Hatmaking felt different, but familiar at the same time.
The steam. The felt. Working the shape slowly and getting the details right.
In a lot of ways, it reminded me of barbering. You can learn the technique, but eventually you have to develop an eye for it.
A haircut has to fit the person wearing it. So does a hat.
I started making them because I enjoyed the process. One at a time. No two exactly alike.
Somewhere along the way, Barber & Hatter just made sense.
Two old trades. Same attention to detail.
Whether I’m shaping hair or shaping felt, I’m paying attention to the person in front of me. Their face, their style and the little details that make something feel like it belongs to them.
One chair. On purpose.
I’ve worked behind a lot of chairs over the years. I’ve built my book in different shops, moved between locations and spent years cutting on the road.
Eventually, I wanted one chair that was mine.
Not because I wanted to do less.
I wanted the time to do it right.
When somebody sits in my chair now, I’m not thinking about who’s next. I have the time to pay attention, have a conversation and get the details right.
One chair. My hatmaking tools. Things I’ve collected over the years. A place to cut, create and connect.
Some days I’m cutting hair. Some days I’m shaping a hat. Some days I’m sitting there working through an idea.
That’s what the atelier became — all these different parts of my life living in the same room.
Still behind the chair.
I’m still cutting. Still making hats. Still building.
I keep a limited schedule Monday through Friday and make myself available privately outside those hours.
I enjoy more of life outside of work — traveling, spending time with my family and seeing what else inspires me along the way.
A lot has changed. The work is still the work. And I still enjoy doing it.