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Rosie Perez has been spotted at this second floor salon that caters to a cross section of the Slope's indigenous female population—the crunchy, the hip, and the very pregnant. Patrons wait on a few awkwardly-arranged ottomans, and it's mostly up to them to remember who's next; anyone attempting to cut ahead is noticed and admonished. Waxing tends to be well-executed, and even during basic nail services, extras like hand soaks with lemon slices and hot oil paraffin foot treatments come standard. (One complaint: The pedicure massage chairs are so close together that it's tough to get up without a technician's help.) Since the floor-to-ceiling windows overlook a busy intersection, customers waiting for their Opi or Essie polish to dry can watch their neighbors ambling toward the nearby food co-op or yoga studio. The two-room shop gets so packed on weekends that would-be clients are advised to "come back tomorrow," and the décor leans toward the hodgepodge (the ceiling glows blue, a 1970s-style multi-arm lamp sprouts from a corner), but no one can quibble with the price: At $25, a mani-pedi costs less than a bottle of olive oil from one of the Slope's spendy gourmet markets. — Lexi Dwyer