Confessions From Behind the Chair

You want the tea? Grab some paper towels, because I’m about to spill it.

Being a stylist isn’t just about haircuts and highlights, it’s people-watching, therapy sessions, secret-keeping, and occasionally dodging wild requests that make you question humanity. After more than 20 years behind the chair, I’ve heard it all. Some stories are hilarious, some are cringey, and some remind me why I love this job so much.

So buckle up buttercup here are a few confessions from the stylist’s side of the mirror.

The Guy Who Tried to Get Me Fired

Back when I was working in abarbershopin LA, there was this entitledprickwho’d come in often and sit with whoever was available. Why do I call him a prick? Because he was. He once asked one of my coworkers if she’d come clean his house topless. He also liked to bring in his pay stubs so we could all see how much money he made. Charming, right?

One day, lucky me, he ended up inmy chair. He asked for a shampoo before his cut, and I told him I’d do it after the clipper work so I could rinse all the loose hairs at once. He stopped me and said, “No, I want a shampoonow.” I told him, “No, that’s not how I work.”

He turned to the stylist next to me and said, “Hey man, can you tell this girl how to cut hair?”

At that point, Itook off his capeand said, “I don’t think this is gonna work out. I’ll find you another stylist.”

He spent the nextthreemonths trying to get me fired by calling corporate, demanding that I not be present when he came in. Luckily, my job had my back. They told him, “No dude, you’re crazy. Come back or don’t….that’s on you.”

The “No Offense” Guy

Another time, I had a client, let’s call himOscar(because that’s his real name, and I have no shame). Mid-haircut, he looks at me and says,

“Airika, you’re sopretty. But you’d be so beautiful if you lost a little weight. No offense.”

My response?

“Oscar… that’sfucked up.”

End of conversation.

Oh, and it gets better. Months later, when he met my husband (boyfriend at the time), he actually asked if he was faithful to me. I said, “Of course he is. You literally bought a mail-order bride from Europe. We are not the same.”

The “Good Hair Day” Guy

This one stillhauntsme.

I had a client who told me he had a photo of his hair looking really good one day and wanted to show me so I’d know how he liked it cut.Cute, right?Nope.

He pulls out his phone and shows me a photo of himself posing in hisunderwear…fine, awkward, whatever…but then I notice there’s a mirror behind him. And in that mirror? Anakedwoman holding the camera.

He zoomed in to show me hishair, but when he let go of the zoom… let’s just say I saw way more than I signed up for. Some things you just can’t unsee.

The Red Hair Intervention

Then there was the client who had just moved to town and was struggling to settle in. She came in for a haircut and loved it. Later that night, she texted me saying she really wanted to color her hairredand asked my advice.

I texted her one word:“No.”Then I immediately called her.

Here’s the thing… when a blonde suddenly decides she wants to go red, it’s never from a place of calm or contentment. It’s manic energy. It’s a breakup, a crisis, a“fuck it, let’s go crazy”moment.

And in my twenty-plus years behind the chair, every single blonde who ditched blonde for red… hated it.Every. Single. Time.

So I told her straight: “I’m not about to let you make an emotional hair decision you’ll regret. Thanks, but no thanks.”

Promise,I’m not in the business of ruining lives.

And you know what? She stayed blonde. She’sstillblonde. Sometimes,savingsomeone fromthemselvesis part of the job.

The “Do I Look Like Your Dealer?” Phase

When I was working at a men’s salon in my 20s, I was going out a lot (responsibly!). My idea of fun was hitting the clubs with my gay besties and dancing until5 a.m., not running the streets lit up like a baseball field.

Still, for some reason, so many guys would ask me if I could “find them somecoke.” Like… what? Do I give offdrug-dealer vibes?Damn. Just because I liked to party and stay out late didn’t mean I was carrying little baggies in my purse.

I mean, Ikind ofgetwhythey thought that… but also,no!Hard pass.

Final Thought

At the end of the day, behind-the-chair life is wild. I’ve dealt with entitled jerks, backhanded compliments, almost-romances, and random dudes mistaking me for their plug.

But through all the chaos, one thing’s clear: being a stylist is about so much more than just hair. It’s about the stories, the connections, and the insane rollercoaster of humanity that sits in my chair every day.

And honestly? I wouldn’t trade it for anything. The hair grows out, the color fades, but the memories are forever.