The House of Brutus.

Brutus opened with a single conviction: the modern Miami gentleman deserves a barbershop built for him alone. Not a salon. Not a chain. A house.

We took the rituals of the 1920s — the hot towel, the straight razor, the leather chair — and rebuilt them inside black marble walls, beneath palm-shadowed ceilings, with brass and bourbon. The result is the city's most private chair.

Every cut begins with a 12-minute consultation. Every shave begins with a hot towel. Every guest leaves with a glass of something poured.