“Olde Tyme Barbers, see?” Joe Magnetico said, explaining how his East 41st Street barbershop got its name.

“Because it’s so old?”

“Because it’s an acronym,” he said with a grin. “We used to take a lot of bets.”

Nowadays, the bookies are gone, but not much else seems to have changed. If you’re looking for a shop that still reeks of playboys, big shots, Barbasol and, well, lawyers (it’s in Midtown, after all), come in for a trim. As for Mr. Magnetico — “Anyone else with that name is related to me because my grandfather made it up” — he knows exactly what he’s got: a barbershop preserved in amber, that amber being the Chanin Building.

“I used to cut Mr. Chanin’s hair,” the barber said, easing his way into a conversation as only a man of his profession can. “Back then, I paid $1 a square foot, and the haircuts were $5. Now I pay $50 a foot and haircuts are $22. They should be $350!”

If the prices seem anachronistic, get a load of the globe-shaped contraption in the corner. It’s a solid copper um … what the heck is it? “Towel sterilizer,” Mr. Magnetico said, extracting from this orb a very moist, very hot, and very not-brand-new-looking towel. The sterilizer dates back to the Wright Brothers era, as do the ornate barber chairs. They were old when Mr. Magnetico’s grandfather bought them — and when he cut Joe Kennedy’s hair in them. The Magneticos have had a barbershop on this street since 1945.

“I hate talking about dead people,” Mr. Magnetico said, and proceeded to do just that. Turns out he cut JFK Jr.’s hair at least once and Jerry Orbach’s, too. Among the living, he’s cut Lou Piniella and the Orioles’ pitching coach, Leo Mazzone. But mostly the OTB shop serves, as it always has, the 42nd Street businessman.

“I used to take care of everybody from the Mobil Building,” Mr. Magnetico recalled, lighting up a cigarette and not offering a 2007-ish apology. “The president, the treasurer. They could’ve had a board meeting in here,” he said. Same with the brass from Philip Morris. When those companies left New York, it came as quite a blow. But that was nothing compared with the biggest blow of all.

Unisex salons.

“We were facing — what’s that word when you’re about to become obsolete?”

Oblivion.

“That’s what we were facing. People went from traditional haircuts to ‘styling.’ They’d come in saying, ‘My wife said, “Could you layer it?”‘ The barber would be perplexed. How do you layer a guy with four hairs? ‘Could you feather it?’ a guy would ask. What ‘feather it’? He’s bald!”

Rather than bending with the times, Mr. Magnetico’s barbers stayed straight as their razors. No feathering. No froufrou. Just electric blade haircuts, quick ones, with a slap of manly talk on the side.

It’s a game plan that’s still working.

“I came here to talk about sports!” a handsome man of about 30 declared, settling into one of the ancient chairs.

“He’s getting married,” his barber said.

“But I’d much rather talk about sports,” the petulant groom reiterated. So that’s exactly what they did. Into the chair next to his Mr. Magnetico ushered the white-maned Dan Shedrick, yet another handsome man. (Or maybe it’s the haircuts?)

“How long has it been since the last time?” Mr. Magnetico asked. “Not long enough,” Mr. Shedrick groused, unable to hide a little smile. “Dan is the perfect example of a man who doesn’t want a haircut that looks like a haircut,” Mr. Magnetico said. ‘It has to do with being rich.” “Joe got a master’s in obnoxiousness,” Mr. Shedrick, a sports marketing mogul, observed. “He’s cutting too much off the back right now.”

Back and forth, back and forth they went, same as they’ve been doing for 25 years. Behind them, satellite radio played “I’ve Got You Under My Skin.”

“We’re so old here, Sinatra’s still alive,” Mr. Magnetico said.

“I’ve got a plane to catch,” Mr. Shedrick reminded him.

“Dan, do you still see that old girlfriend of yours?” Mr. Magetico is tickled that his client used to squire around Martha Stewart.

Mr. Shedrick looks exasperated — and pleased, just as he does again moments later when Mr. Magnetico runs some gel through his locks. “Which he knows he’s not supposed to put on,” Mr. Shedrick said.

“You’re going out in the world. You should look reasonable.”

Mr. Magnetico then welcomed a chubby-cheeked young lawyer into his just-vacated chair.

For $22 and a tip, this pup will get a haircut, Sinatra, and a lesson in how to be a man’s man. The hot towel is free.