An open letter to white women hair stylists

To the White-Centred Hair Salons

That are intimidated by my Asian Hair

August 2021

To The White Women Hair Stylists,

I am reluctant to write this letter not because I doubt my thoughts but because this is a personal story with intertwined layers of complexities. My name is Mikaela Smith and despite my anglosakson-sounding name, I am of Chinese descent meaning, I have East Asian genes. You may not hear it through the phone, or even see it through the online intake form, but from the moment I walk into the salon, you will see it. If you deny this, I can hear it from the moment of shock when I walk into the salon. I hear it even as I speak the obvious that my dark-coarse hair comes from generations of genes that are most likely unlike your own -- that shock, speaks volumes of intimidation.

I say that to bring up the point that, when I, as a non-white, come into your salon it is not just a change of hair style or colour, it is knowingly and intentionally choosing to go through an experience that encompasses multiple layers of identity, racism, femininity, purposeful change, and freedom for expression. You must know and think about the fact that there are deeply rooted thoughts about all of the above, hours of research on which salon and stylist can best “deal” with my kind of hair, discussion and convincing with family members about changing my outside appearance, my awareness and understanding of what I am asking you to do as a professional hair stylist, and shared stories from my peers with the same kind of “Disney Princess” hair.

As a professional and [I hope] as an anti-racist, I do not want to be compared to Mulan. I do not want to hear about how jealous you are of my thick hair. I do not want to be told that going from my dark colour to blonde is going to take so much time. I do not want to be reminded that my hair is too thick, or too dark, or too long, or too coarse. I know all this. I know this because the last hair stylist told me the same thing. When you say the obvious, it shows that you do NOT have previous experience with thick, dark, long hair such as mine.

And then fault falls upon me, the client, who is trusting you to take care of my hair and give me a transformative experience. I feel that I have failed myself in not doing enough research on you and your salon when you remind me of the ways that my hair is different. Unfortunately, after the fault falls, I doubt my own experience and I eat up your guilt. I internalise that my hair is “too” much of a lot of things and yet, I still choose you to do my hair because I trust you as a professional who knows how to do hair. I am simply a person asking you to lighten my hair or to cut my hair like any other client who has walked into your salon. Then anger builds because you are a licensed professional that specialises in hair.

You should be equipped with skills and experience to know what you are doing with your clients’ hair -- all of your clients’ hair, including mine. Yet, when I walk into your salon and my genetic & physical appearance surprises you, you take your intimidation and turn it around on me. In the future, all that I ask of you is, to be honest, and tell me upfront that you may lack experience with Asian hair. I am quite understanding of this. But do not put the blame on me or the genetics of which I cannot control.

When you remind me that my hair is too much, you also remind me that I am not White enough. I, in fact, will never, and can never be White enough despite the model minority myth you may have heard, despite my upbringing in predominantly White areas, and despite how great my English is, I will always be Asian and my hair will always be Asian hair. I do not need yet another White person telling me that I am too much, that my hair is too much, or that the products I use are frowned upon on hair stylists' forums. I am not too much nor is my desire to express myself through any cut, colour, or hair style. This letter is not even too much.

I honestly do not have it in me to follow my friend's advice and to call you out by name in a bad review, or to ask you for a refund, or to not tip you, or to even message you after the fact asking if you could “fix” this. I came to your salon in excitement to go blonde and I left feeling distrust towards White hair stylists ever touching my hair again. I have been to many White hair stylists before and I have never felt fully seen but I have never left a hair salon feeling worse about my identity, than when I asked to go blonde and I left your chair seven hours later with vivid-magenta-pink hair.

Now, I am reminded with every comment and compliment from strangers & friends alike about how my hair looks. It forces me to be in an uncomfortable position when someone compliments my hair and I feel obligated to say “thanks… it’s just not what I wanted...” In those few sentence exchanges, an elephant in the room eats at my internalised feelings of racism, guilt, anger, distrust, disappointment, and again not feeling seen. When I add “... I think it looks bad,” most people attempt to reassure me by saying, “no, your hair looks good!” No doubt, you did an amazing job, if this is what I had asked for.

“It looks bad,” because I left the salon feeling bad for you messing up my hair on top of paying you to give me something I didn’t ask for. “It looks bad,” because I didn't feel comfortable telling you I didn't like it. “It looks bad,” because this experience took away my choice. “It looks bad,” because I cannot instantly "fix" this without spending more money. “It looks bad,” because when I tell my friends that I think it looks bad, they reassure by and unintentionally cover up your inability to do my hair. As I continue to walk around with this vivid colour, all I can think about & fear is people will only see the pink hair before they will ever see me.

I attempt to not reinforce stereotypes about anyone but in particular Asian women. The experience of Asian hair encompasses a lot of distrust in White hair stylists who do our hair because too often they lack an understanding of the multidimensionality of even deciding to trust them with our hair in the first place.

Please do better,

Mikaela Smith