A Closer Look at Kenna Kennor, Britt Lower’s Husband, and His Philosophy on Honest Beauty
Many celebrity hairstylists court fame with bold claims or viral tricks, yet Kenna Kennor stands apart by letting sincerity do the talking. Widely known as actress-artist Britt Lower’s husband, Kennor built his reputation on an approach he calls “honest beauty”—a belief that hair should feel lived-in, emotionally resonant, and, above all, true to the person wearing it.
From the textured cuts he crafts at his Brooklyn salon to the thoughtful way he mentors young stylists, Kennor’s work signals a quiet revolution in an industry often obsessed with surface gloss.
Origins of a Texture Visionary
Growing up on Scotland’s rugged northeast coast, Kennor learned early that wind, salt, and rain leave marks more compelling than any hot tool ever could. His first jobs in small local barbershops sharpened technical skills, but it was the tactile memory of sea-sprayed strands that stayed with him when he moved to London in his twenties.
There, working backstage during fashion weeks, he noticed that models smiled widest when their hair moved naturally instead of sitting shellacked. That observation guided Kennor’s eventual leap to New York City and the birth of his now-famed Kennaland studio, where weather-worn realism became the signature.
Defining Honest Beauty
For Kennor, “honest beauty” begins with listening more than styling. Consultation chairs often feel like confessionals: clients share insecurities about thinning crowns, postpartum waves, or silver streaks creeping in. Kennor’s talent lies in reframing each worry as an invitation to celebrate texture rather than hide it.
Instead of prescribing a universal “solution,” he responds with layered cuts that accentuate natural bends, or nuanced color that embraces grays as highlights. An in-depth feature on CriticalHit—aptly notes how he “brings movement and life to every look,” a testament to his refusal to chase fleeting trends.
Building Community at Kennaland
Walk into Kennaland’s converted warehouse in Greenpoint and the first greeting is often from a rescue dog curled under vintage barber chairs. The space mirrors Kennor’s ethos: raw brick walls, plants trailing from skylights, and eclectic playlists that shift from Scottish folk to early-2000s indie. Stylists share formulas freely, and clients linger long after blow-dries to sip espresso or leaf through art books.
Kennor organizes quarterly “Texture Talks,” free workshops where local stylists practice cutting curly, coily, and kinky hair on volunteer models—bridging gaps left by traditional cosmetology schools. In an industry prone to gatekeeping, his studio operates more like a cooperative, valuing shared growth over profit margins.
Collaboration with Britt Lower
While Kennor keeps camera flashes on his craft rather than his marriage, friends insist that his partnership with Britt Lower amplifies his creative compass. Lower’s multidisciplinary artistry—acting, illustrating, and sculpting—offers Kennor a daily reminder that authenticity can look wildly different from project to project. At home, they trade feedback the way some couples trade playlists: he critiques her character sketches; she suggests subtle shifts in a haircut’s silhouette to match the client’s personality arc.
Their daughter, born in 2023, already toddles through the salon’s back rooms, chalk in hand, underscoring the family’s seamless blend of personal and professional space. That integration fuels Kennor’s drive to keep honesty—not celebrity—at the center of beauty.
The Future of Authentic Aesthetics
Looking ahead, Kennor envisions honest beauty moving beyond hair to encompass wellness and community storytelling. He’s planning small-batch care products formulated with barbershop simplicity: nourishing oils, salt-water sprays, and eco-friendly packaging that forgoes airbrushed models in favor of real client portraits. He also mentors barbers in underserved neighborhoods, teaching pricing strategies and inclusive texture techniques.
Ultimately, Kennor hopes today’s beauty discourse will shift from “perfection” to “presence,” where every frizz halo or silver streak tells a chapter of someone’s lived experience. In that future, honest beauty isn’t a branded philosophy but a collective practice—one that starts in the salon chair and ripples out into everyday life.
I’m a single mother of 2 living in Utah writing about startups, business, marketing, entrepreneurship, and health. I also write for Inc, Score, Manta, and Newsblaze
