Growing up, I witnessed my mom make women feel beautiful, and today, it’s the heart of my work.
The hair salon- a place where community thrives. At mine, we would have birthday parties, christmas parties where we’d cook for clients and others in the neighborhood, and LOTS of dancing.
Lately the term “salon baby” has resurfaced and bringing back a flood of nostalgia. I practically grew up in the hair salon- I was there weekends, after school, etc. It was my second home. It’s where I would go to straight from school, where I’d do my homework, keep other kids busy so their moms could get their hair done in peace. It was my first job too. Serving coffee, removing hair rollers, sweeping up all the hair (several times throughout the day.) Straightening my hair was a weekly ritual, but I’d have to wait my turn after all the paying clients. Same with going home- I couldn’t go home until the very last client was satisfied and gone.
The first image is one of my very first on my photography journey, taken for a school assignment in 2018. A snapshot of my dreams to grow up, feel as stunning as the ladies leaving the salon, and hear “Que melena!”
Just some cherished memories I’ve been holding onto for a while.
