Are We Really Just Doing Hair?
People will sometimes say to me, “Oh, you’re a hairstylist, so you do hair.” And yes, that’s true—I color, style, and care for hair here at the salon in Evanston. But if you’ve ever spent time in a salon chair, you already know it’s never only about hair.
When you sit down for an appointment, what really happens goes far beyond brightening highlights. You’re stepping into a space where you get to slow down, where you can be seen and heard in a way that doesn’t always happen in the busyness of daily life.
Behind the chair, I’ve witnessed so many chapters unfold. I’ve celebrated clients walking in fresh from graduation, buzzing with possibility. I’ve colored brides' hair before their weddings and heard all the hopes wrapped up in that big day. I’ve listened to stories about pregnancies, job changes, cross-country moves, and the exciting (and sometimes terrifying) next steps that come with them.
But I’ve also held space for the harder moments. The loss of a parent. The unraveling of a marriage. The diagnosis of a child. There are days when the salon chair feels less like a beauty appointment and more like a quiet sanctuary where someone can finally let their guard down. And in those moments, my hands are busy with hair, but my heart is tuned in to the human sitting in front of me.
And then there are the unexpected connections. Someone mentions needing a specialist, and another client has the perfect recommendation. A person shares they’re stuck creatively, and someone else later suggests a book or podcast that shifts everything. It never ceases to amaze me how often the salon becomes a bridge—how conversations weave people together in ways neither of us could have planned. The chair has this uncanny ability to act like a modern-day hearth, a place where stories and resources gather like sparks, ready to warm whoever needs them.
There’s also something deeply human about the physical care that happens in the chair. We don’t talk about it much, but touch is powerful. The feeling of a scalp massage. The gentle brush of hair being combed through. The moment fresh highlights fall and suddenly frame your face in a new way. In a world that feels rushed and digital, that kind of hands-on care can be grounding. It’s simple. It’s safe. And it reminds you that being cared for doesn’t have to be complicated.
So when people ask if I’m “just doing hair,” I can’t help but smile. Hair might be the doorway, but what happens here is transformation on many levels. Yes, we shift the outside. But the inside shifts too. People leave with a fresh look, and often with a little more lightness in their step, a bit more confidence in how they hold themselves, or a clearer sense of who they are becoming.
That’s the part that feels sacred to me. And it’s why I feel grateful every single time someone sits in my chair. Because yes, I love creating beautiful hair. But what fills me up even more is knowing that in this little Evanston salon, we’re creating connection, presence, and care—appointment by appointment.
Hair may be the beginning, but it’s never the whole story. Each time you come in, it’s a chance to be cared for, to reconnect with yourself, and to carry something brighter back into your world.
Ready to experience it for yourself?
Book your next appointment at Linmay Studio in the heart of Evanston.
