Beauty as Survival: Textured Haircare in America

There’s been a growing conversation online about whether beauty treatments are simply a performance of femininity pushed onto women. The truth is that, in many ways, they were — at least in how they began.

For generations, beauty services were about survival and assimilation. Straightened hair, polished nails, waxed brows — all became quiet performances of professionalism and acceptability, especially for women of color trying to access job opportunities or avoid discrimination. Textured hair wasn’t just “unprofessional”; it was often penalized. That’s why the CROWN Act exists, because our natural hair still needs legal protection.

But what began as performative has evolved. For many of us, “girl maintenance” has become one of the only times we actually rest. When a woman sits in my chair, it’s not about performing femininity, it’s about being cared for. It’s about exhaling.

When people ask why my clients seek my services, the answer is simple: my clients come to me for hair freedom; they stay for salon therapy. Most of my clients book loc maintenance every 6–8 weeks because they don’t want to maintain their hair in between. Locs offer them simplicity, dignity, and time back. My chair becomes a space where they can take off the mask, rest their minds, and trust that someone’s caring for them.
For so many textured-hair women, that kind of freedom is a luxury.

There’s also the question of whether beauty services are a necessity. For me, the answer is absolutely — especially for women of color. For some, it’s gender-affirming. For others, it’s economic survival. Many of my clients experience hormonal imbalances that cause unwanted facial hair or scalp conditions, and we live in a society that still polices women’s appearances at work. So yes. Maintenance can be self-care, but it’s also sometimes the difference between being seen as “put together” or being unfairly judged.

Beauty services sit at the intersection of identity, wellness, and access. They are necessary — not because we need them to be beautiful, but because we deserve to feel seen and cared for.

People often assume tough economic times hurt beauty professionals, but what I’ve seen is the opposite. Hard moments remind people of what’s essential. When budgets tighten, people scale back on chasing beauty trends, but they don’t cut out the things that sustain them. My clients still come every 6–8 weeks because their loc appointments are part of their rhythm of care. It’s therapy, it’s rest, and it’s a moment to reset before getting back into the world.

So while the beauty market shifts, my work has remained steady.

Social media’s obsession with extreme transformations is another topic people ask about. Ironically, that culture has helped me. After chasing every viral trend, many women find themselves exhausted, over-processed, and ready for peace. That’s when they find me. Locs become a path back to something authentic and sustainable. My business thrives at the intersection of trend fatigue and healing. Clients come tired of trying to keep up.

And when it comes to the idea that the internet is “rejecting” beauty treatments, I don’t believe that’s what’s actually happening. What I see online isn’t a rejection of beauty — it’s a rejection of performance. Women are tired of looking “done” and feeling undone. We’re reclaiming rest as part of beauty. We’re realizing that being serviced — having someone else tend to you — isn’t vain; it’s restorative. Especially for women who have carried generations of work, pressure, and perfectionism.

The internet may be rejecting beauty in theory, but in practice? We’re just redefining it.