There’s no sleek revolving door permeated with the scent of mousse and hairspray at the entrance of Angie’s Hair & Nail Salon in Westchester. Instead, a screen door gives way to a slightly beat-up front door perpetually jammed in the frame. From the get-go, a trip to the establishment seems more like a lunchtime visit to a girlfriend’s house than an errand.

Patrons are not greeted by an impassive young receptionist sporting caramel highlights and three cartilage piercings waiting to enter names into a computer for electronic check-in. Rather, a customer Rolodex and modest appointment book sit atop a plain counter.

The usual poster-sized headshots of blunt-banged models plastering the walls are nowhere to be found in this salon. But mauve floral wallpaper decorated with hanging calendars depicting pastoral scenes and a wooden sign reading “I’m a beautician — not a magician” completes the homey atmosphere.

Flat irons are conspicuously absent, never having been substituted for roller sets. And in place of aloof, black-garbed, stiletto-heeled stylists, there’s Angie Spleha — an affectionate firecracker of a woman who prefers sensible shoes.

But whatever the 56-year-old proprietor lacks in knowledge of cutting-edge shearing techniques and appeal for the glamour-seeking Mario Tricoci set, she makes up for in spades with an unmatched rapport and devotion to her elderly clients. And that has earned Spleha fierce love and fidelity from the seniors who sign her paycheck.

“Most of our ladies have what we call standing appointments. They’re our bread and butter, coming in every week without fail,” she said. “Rain, shine, snow or sleet — they’re here like the mailman.

“Younger customers are fickle. They don’t have the same loyalty,” Spleha added. “I don’t begrudge it to them — it’s just a generational difference.”

But as the target demographic of beauty salons and barbershops like Angie’s continues to age, owners and industry experts alike wonder how they’ll manage to stay afloat — especially without attracting a new crop of customers and modernizing outdated business models, employee training and repertoires, work stations and equipment.

“Having this type of clientele is a mixed blessing,” said Luanne Mayorga, counseling coordinator at the Illinois Small Business Development Center at College of DuPage. “The good thing is, as long as they remain mobile, there’s a strong allegiance to their brand, service provider or locale of choice. So there’s a certain consistency from a revenue standpoint.

“At the same time, they’re more prone to becoming deceased."

The long-term sustainability of a service menu that includes perms, sets and silk wraps — antiquated offerings by most standards but profitable in this niche market — is questionable. The issue is further magnified by the baby boomer transition, which Mayorga said will complicate the industry’s landscape because of the group’s vastly different consumer habits.

Spleha, a 37-year hairdressing veteran and 18-year shop owner, has similar worries.

“I hate the thought of it dwindling, but our art is a dying one. I don’t give this type of business much longer,” she said. “Now, most of our clients don’t even have shampoo in their home because we handle their weekly hair needs. But Boomers are not shop-goers — they don’t have that same reliance on us.”

Andrea Nierhoff, a member of the board of directors for the Illinois Cosmetology Association, now known as Cosmetologists Chicago, also has noticed the shift toward hair care independence.

“For this geriatric crowd, sleeping in bonnets and satin caps or with toilet paper wrapped around their heads to preserve the salon curl has been second nature. All they do is wake up each morning to do some light maintenance – maybe a little teasing,” Nierhoff said. “Boomers, on the other hand, are used to washing their hair each day or every other day.”

According to Spleha, the wizard has gradually emerged from behind the curtain as tricks of the trade and professional-quality tools have been made accessible to younger generations. Although more complex hair upkeep procedures are now feasible at home — an educational effort Spleha said backfired on the industry — the one positive is that these clients shell out significant money for finishing products when they do come around.

“But this is a phenomenon in newer salons, where women are likely to have a cut that requires some pomade to replicate the look when they get home,” Nierhoff said. “That retail income source all but disappears for places that cater to seniors, who aren’t about to ask for something avant-garde that entails a lot of time and effort.”

Back in the old days, she added, women depended on perms and sets to create the shape of their hairdo. But when the revolutionary Vidal Sassoon arrived on the beauty scene in the 1960s, all of that changed. Suddenly, the cut itself was what dictated the look, and beauticians began seeing customers only for trims. The trend never caught on among older adults, and they opted for more classic looks, faithfully booking weekly appointments.

“These old-school places have done well because the owners understand the nuances of their customer base and are able to make them comfortable,” Mayorga said. “These elderly clients don’t function at a rushed pace, so appointments aren’t crammed into time slots. And people aren’t pushed out the door — they’re given the opportunity to mix business with pleasure.”

Bernie Stark, a patron at Angie’s, views her Friday afternoon visits as social hour.

“I met lots of my friends here — Millie, Mary Anne, Alice, Shirley,” the 88-year-old said. “And I consider Angie family. When my husband passed away, she opened up the shop special for me and came to the wake, so I love her dearly.”

Spleha also regularly makes in-home visits for customers with limited mobility or health complications. Linda Petruzzi, another stylist at Angie’s, often provides free shuttle service for clients on the way to and from her home.

“We care about our customers — they aren’t just a number for us. They confide in us and bring us tomatoes in the summertime and cookies and cakes at Christmas,” Spleha said, as she tenderly aided Stark’s descent into the chair and stowed her walking cane. “If you get sick, we call you at home or the hospital to check in on you. We give podiatrist referrals."

“It’s not the same at Fantastic Sam’s or Supercuts,” she added. “The most important thing for us is developing a quality relationship with the women and men who come through our door.”

Not so with Angie’s less old-fashioned counterparts, where Stark has been turned off by “vulgar” shampoo girls and the general disregard and oftentimes disdain for gray-haired grandmothers.

Craig Foltos, owner of Foltos Tonsorial Parlor, a senior citizen favorite in Batavia, knows the importance of bonding with customers to retain elderly patrons.

“We’re like a coffee shop here. I always have an open door and a plate of empathy to feed them,” he said. “Joy is doubled and sorrow is halved when you share with others, and at this stage in an old person’s life, they need a place where they can find a listening ear or a good laugh. Traditional barber shops like ours are fewer and farther between these days.”

Spleha knows she can’t compete with recent beauty school graduates who know all of the hip, contemporary styles, but she’s more than happy with her place in the industry.

“Linda and I are not spring chickens. We try to keep up with the new fads by taking classes, but if you aren’t executing them two, three times a day, you get rusty,” she said. “But you can’t be everything to everyone, and I’m OK with that. I adore what I do, and if these new young girls choose not to pursue senior clientele, they’re missing out big time.”

Contact Jessica Young at jyoung@mysuburbanlife.com.