Phill Benson came to Pacific Grove as a matter of destiny. His family’s barber shop roots date back to 1938, when his great grandparents started a business selling barber supplies. Operating out of a supply house in San Jose, they visited shops all over northern California, and kept at it until the 1970s. Benson’s father and uncle tagged along sometimes to help, and now Benson’s parents run the business out of the same spot it was born.
Benson, even though he’d helped out his parents while growing up, wasn’t planning to follow suit. As a student at San Jose State, he was more interested in playing guitar than cutting hair.
His parents convinced him to get his barber’s license three years ago (when he was 20) and he started cutting hair the very same day in a shop in their supply house.
In spring 2014, on the eve of Benson’s college graduation, his uncle told him to call his friend Gene Allen, who’d been running Gene’s Barber Shop on Lighthouse Avenue in Pacific Grove since 1982.
Benson came down a few days later, and after chatting a bit, Allen said he needed a haircut. When Benson finished, he was offered a job on the spot and started working that day.
Allen retired last December, and Benson bought the place (which has been a barber shop since 1904), renamed it Phill’s and opened in January.
• • •
Weekly: What was it like growing up in barber shop culture?
Benson: It’s weird, dude. Ever since I could walk I was going into barber shops. Some shops you’ve got guys gambling in the back, you got guys smoking indoors. You got magazines in the rack you want to look at and your mom says you can’t look at ’em.
What’s going on with that? Every single shop is like a time warp to some different planet when you’re a kid.
What was it like giving your first haircut?
My dad’s shop has a reputation. It’s one of the busiest shops in San Jose. And these guys that come in, they’re picky. They know what they want.
So you got to be like Domino’s baby, you got to deliver.
And if you can’t do it, you got no place being in there.
That right there was the most stressful thing and most confidence-building thing I’ve ever done.
How would say barber shops are different than salons?
It’s like a whole different galaxy, bro. You sit down in a barber shop and read a magazine and you’re up when you’re up. At a salon you’ve got to make an appointment, you’ve got to talk to a receptionist, you’ve got to take your shoes off, you’ve got to do a couple konnichiwas, bow, hit a gong.
It’s a whole different feel. Just in this space right here I’ve got a hot towel machine, I’ve got a lather machine, I’ve got the biggest selection of pomades in the entire Peninsula.
And that’s just my back bar. You’re not going to get an Oster Stim-U-Lax at a salon.
How has barber shop culture changed over the years?
In the ’60s barbering entered into a valley and almost died. Look at Beatlemania, nobody was getting their hair cut. Everybody wanted long hair. The whole hippie movement, disco, the ’70s. Look at anybody in Lethal Weapon, they all had long hair. In the ’90s it was the whole styled look, the boy band thing. From the Ed Sullivan Show to the early 2000’s, barbering was in this valley. As soon as the early 2000s started, guys just wanted more attention put on their grooming standards. Guys were getting tired of getting wrecked haircuts. Guys are looking for a more traditional experience now.
Do a lot of Gene’s old customers still come in?
A lot of these guys used to come with their dads and get haircuts from Gene. And now they have kids. Now it’s like a dual generation type thing. I once gave a haircut to an 8-week-old. I almost said no, it’s ridiculous giving a haircut to an eight-week-old kid. But they were adamant. The thing was a hairy baby, dude.
What’s the weirdest request you’ve had?
A tri-hawk.
What’s a tri-hawk?
I ask myself that to this day.