With America still deep in recession and unemployment on the rise, consumers have cut spending, focusing on essentials. But at BBraxton on 116th Street and Fifth Avenue, customers like Jeff Augustin still find time and room in their budgets for a male salon that features fresh flowers, a relaxation room for massages, a manicurist, and a full bar.

“I had never seen anything like this,” said Augustin, gesturing toward the gleaming wood floors, rows of intricate light fixtures, and supple leather chairs.

So Augustin, who’s studying to be a neurosurgeon, travels more than an hour from Queens to get his shoulder-length dreadlocks maintained.

“There’s a place like this for every woman on the planet,” Augustin said. “To find one for men of color, that was amazing.”

Owner Brenda Braxton says that was her plan: to create an “exceptional” but affordable grooming experience for men of color. A quick “fade” haircut, hot towel shave, or manicure costs under $20. For those willing to splurge, a $225 spa package includes a facial and a Swedish massage.

Braxton and her husband, Anthony Van Putten, opened their high-end barbershop in 2006. Now, the 53-year-old entrepreneur and actress, separated from Van Putten, divides her time between running the show at BBraxton and performing on Broadway, where she has appeared for more than 30 years, including a recent starring role as Velma Kelly in “Chicago.”

The salon’s inspiration was from a conversation with her husband about pedicures. He said “he wouldn’t mind having those services done, but he didn’t want to sit in a women’s parlor.” They envisioned “just one place where gentlemen can go and have a haircut, a manicure, a pedicure, a facial and do it in privacy. I said, ‘Okay, well, let’s do a barbershop.’”

Black men in the neighborhood, accustomed to the bustle of traditional barbershops, had to get used to a shop like this one. Initial foot traffic was “a little slow,” Braxton said; residents “had never seen anything like this” for men and “thought it was a white-owned business.

“But the community finally realized that, ‘Oh, okay. It’s reasonable. It’s for us. They know what they’re doing. It’s black-owned,’“ she said. “ So, it took a minute but we’re getting ready to go into our fourth year.”

But BBraxton will mark its fourth anniversary at a time when one-third of Harlem’s businesses closed between July 2008 and June 2009, according to a survey cited by the Greater Harlem Chamber of Commerce. Braxton says that rising rents are her major concern.

But Harlem men “are still pampering,” she said, although women are usually the ones who won’t give up grooming during an economic downtown.

On a sunny Thursday afternoon, the salon was full of customers — a clientele that Braxton says ranges in age from seven to 70, and includes business types, hip hoppers, and even recording artist Freddie Jackson.

Jackson, a BBraxton regular who recorded a string of hits during the 1980s and early 1990s, described the salon as a “place where men can —strange way to put it — let their hair down.”

Reclining at the shampoo bowl, Jackson said he prefers to get his hair cut where he doesn’t “have to buy tube socks” from street hustlers and can get a drink in “a nice long stem glass” instead of “a plastic cup.”

Every customer gets a cocktail, like a cranberry and vodka or a white wine, on the house, plus a smile from Ms. B, as her customers nicknamed her.

Not all locals are so particular. Amir Thomas, who lives a couple of blocks away, doubts he’d ever go to BBraxton. He saves money by cutting his own hair. “Why would I ever want to look at some other dude getting a manicure or pedicure?” he said.

Like acting on Broadway, running a business keeps Braxton center stage —answering phones, greeting customers at the door, serving a glass of Chardonnay — all while wearing four-inch heels and flawless make-up.

Now, Braxton wants to launch a BBraxton Academy for barbers looking to hone their skills, plus other luxe male salons in Washington,D.C., and Las Vegas.

“I’m realizing being an entrepreneur is exciting,” she said. “The day-to-day of trying to run it, trying to make sure the lights stay on, everyone gets paid — it’s a little nerve wracking, but it’s still exciting, like theater.”