There are few things as complicated as the booking page of an Instagram-famous black hairdresser. You know the one: She has over 50,000 followers, promotional videos illuminated by ring lights, and, of course, an “as.me” link in their bio. You click on it and a bright pink booking page with bold font lures you in, revealing a maze of red flags that make you wonder: How urgently do you need a haircut?
Today’s hair appointment feels more like a battle of endurance. The disappointment grows with each pause. Then comes the mockery of yet another rule. If your hair is too short, expect an additional charge. Want to secure an appointment? You need to channel your inner voice. Hunger Games-like Competitive spirit to secure an available appointment well in advance before it disappears before your eyes. Oh, and “squeeze fees” actually exist—that is, clients can pay extra if they want to be notified when a slot miraculously opens up on a stylist’s calendar. And while you’re bound by a strict 10-minute grace period to avoid penalties, don’t be surprised if your stylist takes an hour to start your treatment—without consequences. The whole experience of booking a hair appointment is daunting and downright exhausting, sending you straight to DIY hair videos on YouTube or the chairs of African braiding salons. Where has the care and connection that is so unique and important to the Black community gone?
For generations, black hair salons have been more than just a place to go for a transformation—they are little oases where community, camaraderie, and wisdom connect the generations. These salons were the original social clubs where many met to share life experiences, trade hair advice and tips, and find a sense of belonging in this crazy world. The salon was the place where you walked out better than you entered, whether it was in the form of an expertly styled hairstyle that had been on the mood board for weeks, or in the form of a connection with the “auntie” in the chair next to you, or even with the hairdressers themselves.
With the advent of online bookings and independent hairdressers, the dynamics in black hair salons have indeed changed. The once personal and intimate relationship between client and hairdresser, built on years of trust and mutual care, has taken on a more transactional nature. Appointments have become purely business, leaving little room for the close camaraderie that once made the salon experience so special.
“Stylists don’t think Am I building a relationship with the person who comes in? How do I foster that relationship? “They don’t care,” Tomi Tolabi, Pinterest communications director and founder of The Black Beauty Club, tells ELLE.com. “It’s common for someone to pay a deposit and then the hairdresser cancels at the last minute without refunding them. Or the hairdresser is late and there’s no apology.”
But just as the sense of community in salons began to fade, many black social clubs—many focused on beauty and fashion—suddenly sprang up and seemed to fill the void. These organizations serve as third places: sanctuaries outside of home and work where women can come together to shed tears, share laughs, and talk about adversities and triumphs—without the need for a booking page that’s impossible to navigate. While an RSVP link grants you access to these intimate discussions, the exclusivity isn’t taxed; there are no extra or hidden fees for coming as you are.
There are only three rules you must follow when joining the Black Beauty Club. At a recent monthly meeting at Ludlow House on New York City’s Lower East Side, Talabi told members: “Be respectful of everyone, listen with an open heart, and encourage more conversations with each other.”
The room was flooded with faces of all shades of black and brown; eager hands flinched at any chance to grab the microphone, wandering around the room to entice guests to weigh in on the evening’s theme: the price of desirability and social mobility. It’s a topic many black women must grapple with at some point in their lives. One attendee even admitted that she had withdrawn from dating because she tied her self-worth to her dating experiences, a revelation one would normally only reveal to close friends or in the chair of the Dominican, African or Jamaican hair salon one has been frequenting for years.
When the guards came down, the truths began to emerge. “I’m so for black people being mediocre,” said panelist Rox Brown. “‘Black excellence’ is what it’s called.” A guest added, “For so long, my hair was my identity, and I had to shave it all off to see that it was just a Part of our identity.” And another: “If another Black woman decides to put on her bonnet to go to the deli or to buy groceries, that’s her business. The first time I was in France, I saw a Black French woman wearing a bonnet in the supermarket and I felt safe. I felt seen.” Voices grew more passionate and the room erupted in laughter, but the warmth of sisterhood and camaraderie remained. These are the pillars on which The Black Beauty Club stands, and they are the driving force behind Tolabi and co-founder Asmeret Berhe-Lumax, who first launched the community on the social audio app Clubhouse in 2020.
With many people forced to stay home due to a global pandemic, Clubhouse was the place where people from all walks of life formed relationships through common interests and beliefs shared via video voice messages. The Black Beauty Club’s Clubhouse space began to take off, and when quarantine was lifted, Tolabi and Berhe-Lumax knew an in-person event was the first order of business.
The shift from salon to social club is more than just a change of location—it shows how black women are creating and redefining their own spaces through conversations and connections that foster their emotional and spiritual well-being. In a world where they often feel marginalized and silenced, these clubs are a powerful reminder that community will always find a way to thrive, no matter the environment.
Other social spaces like Black Girl Social Club have also built a loyal following, with dozens of women dressing up to attend EveryStylishGirl’s premier networking event, “Sip N’ Slay.” The latter’s CEO, Nana Agyemang, launched her platform in 2016 to showcase stylish black women with unconventional career paths. Agyemang was a journalist at the time and was frustrated by the lack of diversity in the media jobs she took on and wanted to provide a platform for those views.
“I was frustrated because I was the only voice for Black women, dark-skinned women, 4C women, African women, and first-generation women in the room,” Agyemang explains. “I was tired of being the only one in the space. I’m someone who thrives on seeing the people around me succeed.” So she expanded the scope of EveryStylishGirl to create a media training program and “Business Brunch” to help other Black women break into the publishing landscape and provide them with resources and a network of established contacts to grow and learn from.
“(My friends and I) used to travel for brunch, so we used that message as clickbait to get women to come,” Agyemang continues. “And when they came, they realized they had fallen in love with something much more powerful, which is community, influence, upliftment, and most importantly, sisterhood.” Each event is designed to help women find their way, whether it’s in content creation, entrepreneurship, or editorial.
“Sip N’ Slay is for those who are vulnerable,” says Agyemang. “(People who think) I would like to start a business, but I cannot finance it on my own because I lack family capital. How about talking to Anifa Mvuemba from Hanifa? Or Kendall Miles? Or Jackie Aina? These women are attainable; they didn’t earn anything through fame or connections, but through grit, hard work, research and networking.” In addition to its network, Sip’ N Slay also has a recruitment pool where HR representatives from publishing giants and fashion houses recruit talent at events. “What matters most to me is making people feel beautiful and seen,” adds Agyemang. “I want every moment to be a photo moment because that can help make someone feel beautiful and build a digital brand. I hope people go home inspired and take what they’ve learned into their project, podcast, social platforms, dinner parties, meetups, etc.”
The popularity of these safe spaces continues to grow, and they are a testament to the resilience and adaptability of Black women. Even though salons no longer function as the central gathering place of the community, the essence of what made them exceptional lives on in these new social clubs. The bonds of sisterhood, the sharing of wisdom, and the sense of belonging are all still very much alive—just in a different form. Whether in a salon chair or through social media, Black women will always find a way to connect, encourage, and empower one another. Ultimately, it’s not about where the community gathers; it’s about that it still does.
Nerisha is the Beauty Commerce Editor at ELLE.com covering all things beauty. She has a penchant for sneakers, nude lip gloss, and spends way too much time rewatching ’90s sitcoms.
