Do Black Women Still Find Community in the Salon Chair?
Despite the challenges, it's pretty hard to beat
Hey y’all,
I hope you had a fabulous Juneteenth!
Mine was Blackity Black Black, spent with beautifully melanated people line dancing to “Boots On The Ground,” kiki’ing with old friends, and eating all the seafood my heart desired. I also hopped on the “propaganda I’m not falling for” trend and posted a cheeky, fun travel version over on my personal Substack. Yesterday was bae and I’s second anniversary, which is crazy (this is my first time being with someone for 2 years), and he planned a beautiful day for us to revel in our Black love. We also made some new LA friends this weekend. It was one of those hangouts where we just kept wanting to be in each other’s company, so we hopped from place to place together until the night ended.
Ultimately, it’s been a really good week. I’m doing my best to remain resonant in preserving my joy, detach when necessary, and focus on what brings me peace instead of doomscrolling. I hope you’re able to do the same.
Take care,
Anayo Awuzie
EIC of Carefree Mag
This Week’s Story
Last year, in one of our most popular essays, one of our writers asked where all the third spaces for Black women have gone. While IG hairstylists have put up a good fight, their ridiculous rules and lack of customer service have sent the girls right back to the salon chair—a chair that’s always been available to use. Author C.I. Atumah explores why the hair salon has always been the ultimate third space for Black women.
Take care,
Anayo Awuzie
EIC of Carefree Mag
Cornrows, Gossip, and Sisterhood: How Black Salons Build Community
Social media may have changed how we do our hair—but it hasn’t replaced the sisterhood of the beauty shop.
by C.I. Atumah
Growing up, the highlight of my Saturdays was either being seated between my mother’s legs and loosening my old hairdo—cornrows, braids, threading—or visiting salons to get a new hairstyle, a tradition that was a big part of my girlhood. Beauty salons are known not just for grooming and sharing beauty secrets but for their bustling conversations, laughter, unsolicited advice, and gossip. Although the rise of social media and independent hairstylists means that the salon culture is shifting, the transactional feel of today's stylists cannot compare to the trusted relationships built in traditional salons.
Historically, Black women on the African continent and in the diaspora have used salons as spaces of bonding and knowledge sharing. By sharing common problems and experiences, women figured out marital issues, exchanged contact information for services, and got updates on the latest tea and trends. Friendships have also bloomed in salons, making them the original social clubs. Due to years of consistency and familiarity, trust was built between the clients and stylists.
Salons have also served as spaces for mentorship, activism, and economic empowerment. According to NPR, African-American women gathered almost exclusively in salons and were able to cultivate leadership from within their ranks during times when it was needed the most, such as the pre-civil rights era. Women like Madam C.J. Walker, an entrepreneur and the first female millionaire in the US, who built a beauty and hair care empire, merged their business with politics and engaged their clients in political conversations.
Salons were also used as hubs for these women to organize for political purposes, preventing such gatherings from being disrupted or scrutinized. In many parts of West Africa, women have used their hairstyles as forms of resistance and expression, and salons have played a key role in that. Even today, the natural hair movement is a form of resistance against conformity to Western beauty standards from Brazil to the U.S. to Africa and beyond.
The Rise of Independent Stylists & the Decline of Salon Culture
Recently, there has been an upsurge in the popularity of social media hairstylists, especially on Instagram and TikTok. What seemed like a more convenient option—these stylists were easier to find, seemed knowledgeable, and heavily promoted their work—slowly became questionable. Some of these stylists charge ridiculous prices for hairstyles, have different charges depending on the length of the hair, non-refundable deposits, exorbitant late fees and cancellation policies, and poor service. The problem was so widespread that #BlackSalonProblems became a long-standing trending hashtag on Twitter, and we regularly see women complain on TikTok and Instagram. The well-documented decline in service has resulted in a more transactional experience between stylists and their clients. You could blame it on hustle culture or capitalism, but there has been a noticeable change in salon culture today, making them less communal and more routine.
Black Women Still Finding Community in Salons
Despite these shifts in appointment culture, many salons remain important spaces for socialization and connection. Some women confessed that they prefer going to salons than “kitchenticians.” I spoke to a few friends who shared these sentiments. Nmeso, a creative, says, “Even with the rise of high-class stylists and social media bookings, I still visit traditional salons.” Others have built trust with their stylists and remain consistent with their patronage. Elohor, an editor, says once she confirms her stylist understands the look she’s going for, she plugs in her headphones and listens to music until she falls asleep.
For women like Marilyn, a social media strategist and hairstylist herself, the lively conversations that occur in the salon are enough reason to go. “I’m currently getting my hair done in a salon, and it feels good,” she said. “I’m just quietly sitting here listening to premium gist about the lives of people I don’t even know.” Another person said, "I went to get my hair done yesterday and she gossiped so much.” For women like me whose friend is a stylist, I particularly enjoy the moments we spend teasing each other and singing. I leave the salon ready to tackle the new week.
A computer scientist, OJ, says she's not a fan of Instagram hairstylists and online bookings, or even going online to find a partner or shop, and would rather visit a traditional salon. However, she doesn't consider traditional salons a safe space for Black women because of the anti-Blackness that can occur, especially in regards to texturism and colorism, but generally speaking, she recognizes salons as a necessary community space for Black women.
The Future of Salon Culture: A Return to Community?
Some hairstylists and salons are adapting to bring back a sense of community. According to T, “I was so surprised when she [hairstylist] asked me if I wanted a drink. People still do that?” Little things like checking for discomfort or a welcoming environment make women feel more relaxed as they get their looks transformed.
Beauty salons are more than just spaces for personal grooming, they are also social hubs for interpersonal connections and are a part of women’s lives and routines. It’s important that spaces where Black women can feel safe and seen are protected. Modern salon culture can evolve while preserving the essence of sisterhood.
C.I. Atumah is a writer from Nigeria whose work spans fiction, women's health, beauty and identity. She has been published in Black Ballad, The Weganda Review, Document Women and Marie Claire Nigeria.
Whew, this tapped into something real. So much of our identity work—emotional, political, aesthetic—has unfolded in the hum of hair dryers and the rhythm of a stylist's hands. The salon wasn’t just a place to get right, it was a space where we were known. And while IG stylists have skill, there’s something irreplaceable about the energy of a room where Black women gather and let their guards down. I miss that. I crave that. And I’m rooting for more stylists to bring back that balance of care and community.
I miss this. I feel like where I live the suite life has created a death of the salon where I live. When I get my hair done it’s just me and the person doing my hair. I used to love the salon model as a little girl going with my mom