Atmosphere is Everything

Spades Rivera
sub*lanta
Published in
9 min readJun 5, 2022
Provided by https://hellogiggles.com/beauty/black-hair-salons-value/

I remember when I was little when my mother would take me with her to the salon. We would enter the salon suite and there was always that familiar smell that only hair salons could have — formaldehyde from relaxers, mint and tea tree oil from scalp-treatment shampoos, etc. I would sit in the chair and watch the TV in the corner of the room that would always have “Law and Order” running. Wean, the stylist, would touch up my mother’s hair with chemical relaxer (also known as a “perm” or in more modern terms, “the creamy crack”). Once I turned 14, she would do the same for me and I would go back every three months for the next three years — looking forward to talking to Wean about how school was going, “Law and Order: SVU” reruns, and her other clients as they sat at the dryers or in the waiting room.

Hair salons are an underrated but essential part of the Black community. For many, it’s not the only place to get our hair done. It is a safe space in which people, Black women especially, are allowed to relax and have a form of reset lasting for the days until their next appointment. Salons in Black communities are spaces in which Black people, men and women alike, are allowed to take breaks from doing their own hair (which can sometimes be overwhelming). Instead, they can vent about their weeks with little judgement, enjoy a few hours of peace and walk out feeling refreshed and beautiful after. That’s how it was, until everything was put on hold in March 2020 when lockdowns and quarantines began taking place.

Black women had to hold off on getting their hair done or do it on their own and once lockdown was over, getting their hair done hadn’t been the same. I visited Runway Curls Salon Suites in Atlanta as there were multiple hair and beauty businesses were working together under one roof.

Runway Curls Salon Building Directory by https://runwaycurlssalonsuites.com

Sandy Hill, a stylist at The Damn Salon in Atlanta, had started working there exactly 21 days before COVID-19 lockdown started. She had originally started out in the corporate world but had wanted to branch out, hence why she became a stylist. Before COVID-19 came along and forced everyone to shut down and stay home, she had described the salon on a whole as “busy.”

“Clients felt comfortable,” stated Hill as she peeled an orange in her seat. We were talking in-between her sessions. “We closed in March because of lockdown and had opened back up again on June 1. A lot of clients didn’t return, even now due to fear of Covid and its mutations and clients weren’t ready and can’t guarantee complete safety.”

She tossed the peel in the trash and adjusted her mask to her chin as she continued, “We weren’t able to take on as many clients as we used to either, so now we relax a bit more, but with every new variant that comes out, the atmosphere changes again. It’s like a cycle.”

She then continued to elaborate about how everyone in the building had to downsize, how instead of taking ten clients daily for 45 minutes each, it would instead be five clients for an hour and 30 minutes. Despite the downsize in clientele, however, she managed to find a silver lining.

“Since my time with my clients is more spaced out, I’m actually allowed to be more hands-on with them. Before, it was me and my assistant and I didn’t have the time to actually talk to and get to know my clients. Now I can actually, properly, develop a relationship with them.”

The relationship between a stylist and client could possibly be one of the most detrimental parts of the of the salon experience as it contributes to making it a safe space, especially in Black communities. The stylist acts not only as the beautician but also as the mind-reader, therapist, confidant and friend to their clients.

“Me and my stylist are like sisters,” stated Tirria Elliott with a laugh as her stylist of 4 years, Iman Jeffries, ran a flat iron through her caramel-colored hair. Jeffries laughed along and nodded in agreement.

“Before Covid, I would bring snacks and lunch and eat and we would watch a movie and dance and act silly. That’s our connection.” The duo looked at each other briefly and nodded, Jeffries briefly motioning to the television mounted on the wall behind her as though to verify her statement.

“And then during Covid, I had to cancel and I tried to do my hair myself but it wasn’t working. I had to wait and call and she had to tell me what to do over the phone. I’m out here looking bad in these streets and I would send her texts and she would laugh at me,” she grinned as she glanced between me and the full-length mirror in front of her. Her smile soon fell as her voice took on a more serious tone.

“But I would look in the mirror and it didn’t make me feel good. Getting my hair done is like a shower — getting rid of the grime and leaving feeling refreshed.”

Jeffries then started to run the flat iron through her hair a second time, curling the ends and fluffing the strands.

“The connection between a stylist and client is important. If I don’t have a connections with my stylist then I’m not coming back.” I nodded, jotting down her words while thinking back on my own experience. I hadn’t seen Wean since I did my Big Chop back in 2018 and I hadn’t visited a salon in four years. Not only because I couldn’t find someone to work on my curls (although that was a part of it), but because having someone else touch my hair requires a certain amount of trust. I worked hard to get my hair to the health and length that it is now. And after a home-braider detangled (ripped) my hair and had me trimming off split-ends every weekend for the four months, I hadn’t let anyone else touch my hair since.

I was pulled out of my memories when Elliott spoke again.

“As Black women, we take the brunt of all of the crap and you can only talk to a certain amount of people. Like, men have the barber shop, women have the beauty salon and we can have conversations in good company.”

The conversation then travelled over to Jeffries. She fluffed out Elliott’s hair and started putting her tools away as she gathered her thoughts.

“As beautician, I was nervous because this is all I know.” Jeffries stated as took down her straightened brown hair from its messy bun.

She also told me how she remembers thinking, “Will I have to change fields?” The time away did allow her to open her business though.

“I did start my ponytail line called Blush,” she started, motioning to the ponytails hanging on the wall behind me. “And I even contemplated coming back to the salon but then I realized that my clients missed me and I missed them.”

She then started to brush out her hair as she described how the forced isolation from lockdown seemed to have made people depressed. According to Jeffries, it was good to be back at the salon and see her clients again because she was able to watch them get their spirits back by looking and feeling good.

After talking and laughing with the duo a little longer, I left the room so that they could go for lunch. I then introduced myself to Charles Zeno, whom was setting up his station for his next client. Owner of Zeno Industries, Zeno had been working in the hair industry for a decade and had been a member of The Damn Salon for about two months. As a stylist that had worked on television and entertainment sets, he was no stranger to the atmospheric changes within his work environment.

“The whole salon dynamic has changed,” he stated as he dried off his hands. His eyes were on his hair products but his words were directed at me, “What used to be a safe space was no longer safe.”

I stepped back as his new client took her seat, Zeno immediately getting to work on soaking her hair with the hose.

“Even with the booth situation of the building, the dynamic has changed entirely because the point of a salon is to learn from one another — you have to learn from your peers who have been doing this longer than you.” Doubling down on his statement, he looked at me as he started to squish and shampoo his client’s hair.

“So, while the pandemic had affected the atmosphere of your workplace, would you say that it also affected your relationships with your clients?” I asked.

“Oh definitely,” he nodded, “People have gotten more cautious and rightfully so since in the beginning it[COVID-19] was practically a death sentence. I’ve never had Covid but whenever I go on set, I would get tested every other day!”

Much like Hill had described her experience with getting less clientele, Zeno seemed a little more surprised. “Nothing has ever stopped people from doing their hair. The only thing that’s stopped them is the pandemic,” he stated as he rinsed his client’s hair.

I watched as he set her under the dryer and followed him into the adjacent room as he went to blow dry her [his client’s] daughter’s hair. As the two settled, Zeno went back to the topic of the change in the salon’s atmosphere. According to him, when his partner saw his passion for hair and had put him through cosmetology school, he had apparently learned little more than the fundamentals. That means that the stylists within a salon have to learn from their peers, from one another.

“The salon atmosphere is necessary because that’s how we learn.”

For the next 20 minutes we talked about hair tips and our respective stories before I waved him goodbye. After, I peeked into the room of the only stylist left in the salon suite building, Kailin Jones. She was still working with her client so she asked me to wait for a few minutes. I waited a while, taking in the glass displays and the sunlight before I saw her client leaving with colorful clips in her hair. Confused, I got up and peeked into her office again. She was doing a quick set up before motioning me inside, briefly explaining that her client went down the street to pick up her lunch order.

Setting myself in a chair with a sequin-covered decorative pillow, I watched her take out a few products before getting a honey-hydration treatment mask ready for her next client. From her perspective, the atmosphere hadn’t changed at all. However. it really depended on the clients themselves since the older clients were more cautious and with the problems that came from inflation, a lot of people have resorted to DIY.

“And, people still want to get their hair done.” stated Jones. The strong smell of honey hit my nose as she poured the contents of the bottle into the bowl. According to Jones, her relationship with her clients hadn’t changed either.

“I’ve also gotten clients from out of town and building relationships and they were so excited that I was still open at home. Being in Atlanta, even if you lose clients, you’re going to get new clients.”

She then talked about how many people have moved to Atlanta and that the new residents are always looking for stylists. Even for those who DIY their hair care, they would still want to purchase products and since Jones makes and sells her products and bundles, it’s worked out, even now.

Salons are one of the main backbones of the Black community. It is a safe space in which the stylists and clients form important bonds and learn about one another, becoming a unit in solidarity. The atmosphere had changed over the last two years, as well as the relationships between client and stylist. However, even with the changes, the importance is still the same.

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