On "Decentering" My Hair
Let's chat the economics of hair!
I grew up in the thick of the hair world—literally and figuratively. I tried every product, every trend, every style. But my experience came with a twist: my family owned a haircare brand. Hair wasn’t just Sunday wash days or special occasions; it was our universe. Formulations, packaging prototypes, customer feedback—they all had a seat at the dinner table.
Somewhere along the way, my relationship with my hair shifted from passion to preoccupation. What once felt creative started to feel controlling. The line between self-expression and self-surveillance blurred.
And judging by what I see online, I’m not alone.
Let’s Digest!
Whether it’s hair, skin, or body image, our appearance has become an anxiety trigger. Social media amplifies this: Zoom calls, selfies, FaceTime, filters—our reflections are everywhere. Historically, mirrors were a rarity; people caught glimpses of themselves in lakes or while polishing silverware. Now? We stare too long and too often… at ourselves and others.
Beauty standards have globalized into a singular, algorithm-approved aesthetic pipeline. Regional traits like skin tone, hair texture, and facial features are now homogenized, algorithmically filtered into a narrow definition of “aspirational.” The message: beauty equals value. We’re taught that looking good opens doors, that beauty is currency.
Hair, in particular, has become a social statement. It’s not just care; it’s code—for status, femininity, desirability— especially amoungst the black community. We’re told pretty privilege is the way of the world, and we internalize it and subscribe to it. That’s why hair feels so heavy: it’s tied to perception, approval, and belonging.
Your Starter: The Case for De-Centering
Every so often, the internet gifts us new language for old truths. First came delulu, the marketing spin on delusional thinking. Then “Decenter Men”—a rallying cry for self-prioritization. A message to reclaim autonomy and decision-making without centering male validation.These digital mantras bleed into our real lives, nudging us to refocus and reclaim.
A Tiktok video has me thinking: what if we decenter our hair?
This week, I cut mine. Simple sentence, but monumental. I’ve done it all—braids,wash n gos, locs—but a proper cut? Regular trims? Never. For the first time, someone helps me care for my hair, not just protect it (or, let’s be honest, hide it).
After my last appointment, my curls bounced back. My wash-and-gos flourished. On the way home, I scrolled TikTok and saw it: Decenter your hair.
I had unknowingly been doing just that. I’ve been unlearning the idea that my hair must be perfect to be presentable. Decentering doesn’t mean not caring; it means not attaching your worth to the outcome. That it needs to be styled, stretched, or sleek to be worthy of showing up. You can love your hair without making it protagonist of your life. You can LIVE life and not let it be the antagonist either.
The Main Course: Breaking Free from the Hair Rulebook
Braids for vacation, silk presses for the winter, slick backed buns so slick they give voluntary migraines, I can’t workout today it’ll ruin my hair, I can’t swim it’ll ruin my hair.Canceling workouts. Skipping the pool. All in the name of not ruining your hair.
We live by cultural laws that hold us back from living our lives. But what if we started questioning them the way we challenge other outdated beliefs?
We now recognize “don’t go outside, you’ll get darker” as colorism. Is “don’t swim, your curls will revert” really that different? One polices skin; the other polices texture. Both limit freedom.
We center our lives around maintaining a style at the expense of spontaneity, movement, even peace. Hair becomes the warden. So many of us unconsciously chase proximity to otherness—the obsession with length over health, silkiness over strength. Stressful doesn’t even begin to cover it.
Side Dish: Breaking Up With Breakage
They say if you’re on the wrong train, the fastest way to get to your destination is to get off. Same with hair. If what you’re doing causes breakage, frustration, or dryness, reroute. Stop mistaking split ends for growth.
The pursuit of long hair dominates our choices, whether that be going lengths to grow new lengths or getting sew-ins or braids. Regardless of the texture, whether it's curly or coily or kinky, what is glamorized is length. All of this rooted in the harmful myth that Black hair can’t grow. Other communities have their own burdens—like damaging bleach routines for the sake of being blonde.
Either way: dead, fried, laid-to-the-side ends have got to go. I finally embraced regular trims. Growth isn’t always visible length; sometimes it’s liberation.
How to Get Comfortable With Haircuts:
Find a stylist you trust, and who wants you to trust them.
Diversify your inspo ... or better yet, become your own inspo.
Experiment until you find what works for you.
The Economy of Hair Centering
There’s a joke online: no matter the economy, Black women will have their hair done. It’s funny because it’s true—and it proves a point. Haircare has become an inelastic good: demand stays constant, price be damned. Inelastic goods are typically necessities though, the demand for water would remain consistent regardless of the price changes, the demand for an ambulance in the time of an emergency would not be changed depending on the price.
Culturally, we’ve rebranded professional haircare from luxury to necessity. Stylists compare themselves to doctors; salons operate with “my way or the highway” energy. So much so that hair service providers can get away with virtually anything – egregious cancellation policies, pre-appointment demands, foul attitudes the list goes on and on.We comply, showing up anxious but still prepped, detangled, and pre-blown out lest we be labeled “too much work.” This is because our society has manufactured a false sense of necessity based on the cultural stipulations of hair. We walk into beauty salons acting like we are the ones servicing the service providers – worried if we’ve blown our hair out enough, anxious that they wont service us again if our hair is harder to manage, some even okay with paying more because their stylist believed their hair texture is “harder to manage”.
What should be a pampering ritual has become voluntary stress. And most of us don’t even realize it. And we allow this because we center our hair in every aspect of life.
Dessert: The Final Cut
To quote Charlotte York in Sex and the City, the ultimate decentering moment:
“Maybe we could be each other’s soulmates and let men be these great, nice guys to have fun with.”
So, what if we applied that to our hair?
Maybe our hair is fine just as it is. Maybe styles should be nice things to have fun with—not the soulmates we center our lives around.
Thanks for Consuming!
Phia
“Each Day Gets Better”
Love this essay! I hate how I limit my lifestyle / activities based on the hairstyle I have. Also…. Can we talk about how expensive certain hairstyles are these days!?! My 2026 goal is to learn how to do blowouts and trims myself.