Toronto is Canada’s biggest and most self-important city. It’s the New York of the North, the nation’s – nay, the universe’s intellectual and artistic Mecca: self-evident to Torontonians and insufferably overstated to anyone who lives elsewhere. A true, dyed-in-the-wool Torontonian never questions the greatness of his city. But ask a Canadian outside the GTA (Greater Toronto Area) the difference between Toronto and yogurt, and the answer comes with a hefty dose of venom: yogurt has an active culture.

Toronto is verifiably the industrial and financial capital of the Great White North – a distinction of late: Montreal enjoyed that status for more than 150 years, until the 1970s when an entire generation of humorless, chain-smoking French-Canadian separatists managed to frighten off most everyone with money. Until that time, Toronto was (still is, some might argue) a vast slab of concrete poured without creativity onto the shoreline of Lake Ontario, home to nasal WASPs who daintily lift their pinky fingers whilst sipping Tim Horton’s coffee from a paper cup.

Personally, I like the place. I greatly enjoy Toronto’s theater district – most recently, Evil Dead: the Musical which I also saw Off Broadway with nearly the identical cast. Chinatown is brazen and gaudy; Little Italy (something of a misnomer: the Portuguese live there in considerable numbers) offers many especially fine breakfast joints; the newly remodeled Royal Ontario Museum is generally accepted to be one of the architectural marvels of the modern world. And, seriously, who can see Toronto without one visit to the quirkiest of all department stores, Honest Ed’s?

I’ve spent a considerable amount of time here since January, casting about for wholesale orders and preparing to open the newest ME boutique. As the month of my annual Spa Guide approached (February, but I was too busy to write), it occurred that I might cease my usual men’s-services-are-so-lame bitchfest and personally visit the spas that take us guys seriously, that deserve our patronage. After all, North America’s first barber spa, Truefitt & Hill, opened its doors in Toronto a full seven years before the brassier American “lounges” claimed that distinction for themselves. This city is one of the epicenters of the men’s market for luxury grooming products and services. I could hardly go wrong.

The GotStyle Lab
489 King Street West
Toronto, Ontario
416.260.0020

First on my list was GotStyle Lab. But be warned, this review is part shameless PR: our second boutique opens this month at GotStyle. Bear with me or skip ahead.

Voted Toronto’s best menswear store and located in the heart of the city’s upscale fashion district, GotStyle is a one-stop shopping destination for men that includes spa services in a small treatment room to the rear of its attractively appointed, loft-style location. Owner Melissa Austria, a ringer for Lucy Liu with a vivid personality to match, invited me over dinner one evening to sample GotStyle’s signature hot towel shave. Melissa’s spa menu boasts a tidy selection of executive services: haircuts, head shaves, grey cover-ups, facials, waxes, manicures, pedicures, massages. But it’s her Royal Shave that really draws ‘em in.

How could I refuse? Particularly when the treatment would be provided by Melissa’s straight-razor-wielding grooming specialist, Pamela Hackwell – a name that inspires fear and confidence in equal measures.

Pamela is a licensed barber and aesthetician who received her instruction from The Art of Shaving. I found this news to be of considerable comfort. It was my first experience under the cutthroat, so to speak.

Pamela invited me to slide my arse into one of her cozy shave chairs and tilted me back in such a way that I was literally blinded for a moment by the high-intensity spots trained on me from the ceiling. I felt like I was about to be interrogated: not your typical path to relaxation. Pamela, however, was immediately aware of my desperate blinking against the strong lights. She quickly covered my eyes with two cotton patches soaked in hydrosol rose water, mummified my face in a hot towel, and then began her work on my three-day-old stubble.

There were successive applications of pre-shave oil and hot towels, followed by two luxuriously thick layers of shave cream, more towels, a scalp massage that left me in a rubbery stupor, and the shave itself. Pamela was very skilled, much to my considerable relief. I unclenched as she worked my beard in zones starting from left ear to right while saving my chin and throat for last. It was surely pleasurable.

That is, until Pamela produced an electric wet-dry razor – her own adaptation to the traditional hot towel shave – and went at my throat with a kind of focused intensity ordinarily reserved to nineteenth-century dentists. I really don’t do well with electric razors. But I coughed up only the feeblest of protests, when in fact I should have put an end to it, straight away. My reasoning, of course, was to sample the full treatment and not just the parts that suited my delicate sensibilities. So I let her work. And one day later, Pamela’s electric-razor finish sparked such a furious red rash that I looked as if I’d contracted the pox. On steroids. It lasted more than a week.

This is a very fine straight razor shave, don’t get me wrong. At $49 plus tax and gratuity, GotStyle’s hour-long tea time for the soul is well worth your hard-earned coin. Give it serious consideration next time you’re in to pick up your supplies at the ME grooming counter. But if you have any trouble at all with electrics, ask Pamela in advance to skip that step of her service. Trust me – her straight razor cuts you close enough!

Truefitt & Hill
Scotia Plaza
40 King Street West, Street Level
Toronto, Ontario
416.214.4646

Buoyed by my first straight razor experience at GotStyle, I decided a week later to drive down King Street West to Truefitt & Hill and sample that venerable institution’s hot lather shave. Truefitt & Hill Toronto is the second Truefitt & Hill barber spa to open in North America, after Chicago in 1989. The Toronto location’s menu is chockablock with à la carte and packaged executive services, ranging in price from $14 for a basic neck shave through to $290 for the hedonistic but regrettably-named Buckingham Palace, a four-hour extravaganza that consists of hot lather shave, stress-relief massage, herbal steam facial, haircut, manicure, pedicure and shoe shine.

Parking was plentiful at Scotia Plaza, but hideously expensive: $28 for a half afternoon! (Hence, the wide availability of empty parking spaces, one might muse.)

Two tips here: 1) park elsewhere; 2) if you do feel unnaturally compelled to park in the cavernous underground complex to which Scotia Plaza is attached, leave a trail of breadcrumbs from your car. Not surprisingly, I forgot where I left my MINI and spent more than one maddening hour in search of it. Much to the amusement of the mercilessly unhelpful parking attendants whom I consulted along the way. Pricks.

Truefitt & Hill Toronto owner Rick Ricci, a burly and boisterous man, recognized me from the ME web site. Though I hadn’t made an appointment, he took time from what was clearly a busy day to walk me through his swanky establishment, deliver a brief yet thunderous history of Truefitt & Hill in North America, then call his shave specialist, Brenton, in from lunch to attend to me.

As I discovered midway through my treatment, Brenton is a marketing graduate of Seneca College who became interested in men’s grooming after reading about it in a trade publication. His new goal is to acquire the same professional ability and service ethic as Truefitt & Hill Toronto’s own master barber, a gentleman whose name now escapes me. Brenton told me this with such unfeigned sincerity and admiration for his mentor that I was quite disarmed. I hope Rick knows what a find he has in this young man.

Brenton guided me over to his ancient wood-and-leather shaving chair and began what I can describe only as the most meticulously executed spa treatment I have ever received. I lost count of the hot towels and pre-shave applications that went into my service. There may have been five or six. I really don’t remember: I was deep inside the drool zone by the time Brenton scooped his handfuls of hot lather onto my beard.

To say the experience was blissful is perhaps a slight understatement. Nothing penetrated my coma, save the occasional word from Brenton while he carefully – no, I’d say obsessively – shaved, re-lathered, and shaved again. By the time he finished, my face was smoother than a Playboy Bunny’s airbrushed ass. A shockingly cold towel, followed by a brisk slap of Proraso aftershave lotion, and I was out on the street feeling refreshed, well-groomed, and fabulously unaware that I’d lost my car.

Two cons. It strikes me as eccentrically atypical that Truefitt & Hill would eschew its own products for other brands – Brenton’s choices included a fragrant coconut butter as pre-shave, some sort of heated foamy from a can, and Proraso to finish. I also had to enquire about each step of the treatment. (“What are you doing now?” “I’m preparing your beard for the shave.” “With what?” “Coconut butter.” “Why coconut butter?” “It conditions the stubble and blah blah blah…” You get my point.) That information should issue voluntarily from the specialist. It has a calming influence on patrons, with the added benefit that it teaches them how to properly shave at home.

These are of course fussy details and I am, admittedly, a curmudgeonly old fart. In truth, $42 plus tax and tip is a steal; I doubt you could find a better shave service for the price.

I’ll definitely return. Next time I’ll take the subway.

The Men’s Power Spa
14 Duncan Street, Lower Level
Toronto, Ontario
416.850.0981

From the bold design and content of The Men’s Power Spa web site, I thought I might be greeted at the door by some testosterone-addled alpha male in a rugby shirt. You know: the kind of guy whose neck is wider than his head. The kind of guy who treats conversation as a contact sport. David Puddy on Seinfeld: that kind of guy.

My trademark cynicism turned out to be wholly unfounded. Run by delightfully unflappable estheticians and decorated in an austere yet soothingly-lit urban motif, The Men’s Power Spa is a gem of a refuge in the heart of Toronto’s frantic downtown core. Standard male-environment accoutrements abound: flat-screen TV, business magazines, Bauhaus-style seating. So too do the comforting little extras: a cup of herbal tea while you wait for your appointment; your choice of music played over the sound system; competent, friendly staff; private treatment rooms. Nice!

In case you’re wondering, this is no perk-laden lounge. The Men’s Power Spa is a true esthetic spa with men-only services that range from laser hair removal and Botox injections to massage therapy and scalp treatments. If you’re looking for the McGrooming Haircut ‘n Hummer that seems to be all the rage these days, try Mustang Ranch a little further south of the border. If you’re in the market for some serious me time, this is your spot.

After such positive experiences at GotStyle and Truefitt & Hill, I was totally pumped to sample my third shave treatment of the month – Men’s Power Spa offers a thirty-minute multiblade special with exfoliation and pre-shave mask for $45. But manager Ashley Cox talked me out of it. Her most popular service, she told me, is the men’s esthetic facial with extractions. Cool: hit me! But first, Ashley had to spin some tunes.

I don’t know what it is about spa music, but the specific arrangement of babbling brooks, chirping birds and harp strings makes me contemplate murder. Thankfully, Men’s Power Spa owns an impressive selection of CDs to suit the broadest range of musical tastes. I was in the mood for light jazz so I opted for Nora Jones as the soundtrack to my facial, then followed Ashley into a muted treatment room where I slipped out of my sweater to the gently engaging strains of “Don’t Know Why.” My experience hadn’t even formally started and Men’s Power Spa already had my endorsement.

I can see now why a facial at Men’s Power Spa is so highly sought-after. The facial part was your to-be-expected cleanse/exfoliate/tone/moisturize affair, and Ashley’s extractions – she cleared my pores not with one of those little dental-pick things but by squeezing – were painful almost to the point of tears. The half-hour forearm, neck and scalp massage, however, was positively hedonistic. No exaggeration. By the end of it, I was in such a slobbery daze that I almost wet my pants.

I wasn’t fond of the somewhat overpowering floral bouquet from the Phytomer products Ashley used on me, and her trance-inducing scalp massage left my hair matted with massage oil. Of no matter. Once the puffiness subsided from those extractions (expect this from any esthetic facial), my skin took on a healthy radiance that lasted more than one week.

A sandwich board on the street outside Men’s Power Spa promises you’ll “feel like a healthy animal” after one of its treatments. I have no reason to dispute the claim. I’ve yet to decide which animal my facial made me feel like – I’m thinking something along the lines of a three-toed sloth. But I have little doubt about the recuperative benefits of this hour-long retreat from the daily grind.

Recommended Spas
Click here for a list of MenEssentials-recommended spas that offer products or spa treatments designed specifically for men.