Miss Jessie's: Creating a Successful Business from Scratch---Naturally

by Miko Branch

  REINVENTION

  We’d taken a calculated risk by completely reinventing our business model, with radically different rules and pricing, based on knowing our worth and taking ownership of our unique aesthetic and skill sets. What we were doing in the Bed-Stuy salon was unheard of for the hair business in our culture. This was like nothing out of the movies Beauty Shop or Steel Magnolias. Our salon was not a location for neighborhood women and friends to hang around and gossip. It wasn’t a loud, messy, chaotic environment. We ran our business with an almost Zenlike quiet and efficiency. A distracting salon environment would not have worked for me. I need a serene atmosphere to bring out my best. I took inspiration from my first salon employer, Joseph, and established strict rules to protect the ambience and enhance efficiency. The calm would relax our clients and better prepare them for a radical improvement in their hair.

  The Pros of Natural Hair

  You can get back to your God-given natural hair texture, which is thicker, denser, and much stronger than relaxed and processed hair.

  Exploring natural hair can be an enlightening and positive process of self-discovery.

  There is freedom from styling hair if you plan on wearing it free-form.

  The natural-hair community is a fascinating social space. You’ll make new friends who are sharing your journey, and be part of a conversation.

  You may feel a greater sense of pride, self-love, and self-acceptance.

  No more harsh chemicals that can damage hair follicles and scalp.

  Less time in weekly or monthly salon visits.

  It is a chance to rock cool new styles such as straight, Afro-braided, curled, and rolled.

  Natural hair often has many textures, like an intricate piece of art.

  Many regal hairstyles have been achieved with curls, kinks, and waves.

  History has showcased highly textured hair over the years, from kings and queens, like Louis XIV and Queen Elizabeth I, to Marie Antoinette and even Albert Einstein!

  Inspired by that little nail salon in downtown Brooklyn, before a time slot was booked and a customer even stepped onto our parlor floor, a credit card deposit was made over the phone. This deposit was applicable to the overall cost of the service should the client decide to proceed with styling, which she typically did. The purpose of taking a deposit was threefold: It discouraged people from canceling at the last minute; it covered the salon’s time if an information-thirsty person just wanted to absorb knowledge without investment; and it ensured that a record of the client was on file. As isolated as we were, and with my son upstairs, we couldn’t be too careful. We also had to make sure our customers were fully committed to making the journey out to Bed-Stuy. Second thoughts could have been costly to our enterprise.

  Plan for change. Change can be scary, but a well-thought-out transition should lessen fears.

  When the clients arrived, we would greet them and ask them to fill out our questionnaire listing their hair history, goals, lifestyle, and frustrations. It was similar to a doctor’s form, letting us know the last time they received a chemical treatment, the condition of their hair, what they liked and didn’t like about their look. It was a holistic approach that allowed me to get to know individuals quickly and better meet their expectations.

  Of course, we would talk to them as well. There’s nothing like speaking face-to-face to pick up on who they are and how they would like to see themselves. People came to us for many reasons, whether to make a drastic change, like the Big Chop—cutting off all that dry and chemically damaged hair to make a fresh start—or just to tweak and refine a look they were mostly happy with. Sometimes we had to work to get it out of them, because a lot of women didn’t know how to express what they wanted—usually because they didn’t know that it was possible. Once we understood what they desired, I had to physically examine the hair, determine its condition and feel its texture for myself, to make sure the goals were realistic. This helped me to see what the possibilities were.

  TEXTURE TYPING

  Around this time, people in online chatrooms had begun typing hair textures using a number and letter system. Andre Walker, Oprah’s stylist, wrote a book on this topic, establishing broad hair catergorization to help women understand his advice on hair. The naturally-curly movement took it a step further and got more detailed.

  Although Titi and I considered adopting the texture typing system, it was hard to make it stick. Clients were coming to us for information and direction on their hair with no clue about how their natural hair behaved after being relaxed for so many years. We found the exchange much more productive and helpful when we used words instead of numbers to describe the characteristics of their hair. This more descriptive approach was beneficial for us as well as our clients, because it enabled us to identify all of the nuances of the hair before we gave advice or administered any service.

  Using words to describe one’s hair also helped clients get to know their hair. We helped them articulate all of the things that made their hair what it was. We used words like “curly,” “kinky,” or “wavy” as benchmarks and elaborated from there, using other descriptions like “thick,” “fine,” “shrinkage,” “straight,” “coarse,” “dense,” “multi-textured,” “heat- or color-damaged.” We drilled down and got to the bottom of our clients’ hair story. We called this exercise the “Hair Narrative.”

  I loved being part of the process of helping someone to find her best self physically. Playing a role in helping a woman find personal fulfillment, however small that role was, was deeply gratifying. I enjoyed the fellowship with these women. It required a relationship built on trust. I was always candid with our clients, often to the point of telling them something they did not want to hear. When a client called or walked in, Titi and I never lied and said I could deliver something that wasn’t possible. If her hair was tightly coiled and dense, for example, and she wanted to walk out of our salon looking like she had Beyoncé’s weave but all-natural, we would give her a gentle reality check. We would even turn women away if I couldn’t deliver on some of their goals. More often, I’d say something like “Okay, I understand this is what you want, but this is what I can do if you are open to it.”

  Manage expectations

  Industries that revolve around beauty and self-esteem can be a minefield of misguided customers who have been fed images that push them to be something they are not.

  1. Take the time to consult with the client before starting on the work, to understand her vision and let her know what can realistically be delivered.

  2. Convince her to be her best self. She may look at a picture of Halle Berry and think that should be the aspiration, but it’s your job to convince her to enhance her own best assets, which were usually right there on her head.

  3. Help her to understand that not everything is for everybody. We are all unique, and so is our hair.

  4. When you give your customers possibilities that are connected to their own hair type, and not someone else’s, they often walk away loving their texture more than the look they thought they wanted.

  SETTING THE TONE

  My work as a stylist was intense, and we needed to be efficient to handle the large volume of traffic. We also wanted to be fair to our customer and give her the best salon experience possible. That was why we decided to take the chaos out of the situation. When someone had an appointment, she couldn’t bring a bunch of friends to hang out, make noise, and disturb the other ladies who just wanted to get real solutions for their hair. We wanted to offer them an altogether different solution than they may have been accustomed to. We knew we were going to transform and to deliver our popular kinks-to-curls service, but we wanted the experience to be positive and delightful. Conversation was welcomed, but at the volume you might hear in a teahouse, not a bar. We treated everyone with the utmost courtesy and expected similar consideration from our clientele. They had to be on time to avoid a backlog that would force other customers to wait unnecessarily.

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sp; As business picked up, we needed to run the place with assembly-line efficiency, knocking down the time to treat and style curly and often kinky hair from eight hours to three, and enabling me to service as many as twenty-five to thirty clients on a busy day.

  It was an enormous amount of work in a short span of time. The process required blowing out the hair before we even took a pair of scissors to it, so we could see exactly what was going on. Then we did an angle and balance cut to create the right shape for curly textures before styling.

  We kept things moving using an innovation we called “butterfly assembly line.” The salon staff would take turns with each customer to keep things moving down the line. Naturally and highly textured hair is typically more time-consuming, so having one stylist work on a single client from start to finish would be neither productive nor cost-efficient. We landed on each head like a butterfly touches a flower, getting each stage of the process done more quickly. The alternative would have been to assign a single stylist to each customer, which would have pushed our overhead to the point where it would have been unsustainable for the business.

  GUERRILLA MARKETING

  As much as some of our new customers fussed about the location at first, the approach was paying off. By 2003, we’d gained a reputation as the place to go for expert and efficient service.

  We had to get the word out more. The Time Out article had helped bring in clients from all over the tristate area and we knew there were many more affluent women we could reach locally. In early 2001 I launched a guerrilla marketing campaign, replicated from the time when I was drumming up business for Branch Cleaning Agency. Using a similar template, I designed a flier with detailed descriptions of our trailblazing services, some funky fonts, and playful graphics reminiscent of seventies album covers, an illustration of a girl with big round curls. On the front, it was headlined “Curve Salon: For Girls with Curls.” It had our address and an “As Seen in Time Out New York” stamp.

  I wanted many different types of customers to find something they could relate to, and to get excited about the new kinds of services we were offering. We listed problems in a typeface that suggested customer handwriting, and in big bold text, we offered the solution:

  “I hate wearing my curly hair out. It’s always in a ponytail. What can I do?”

  “The right CUT is critical. Many stylists tend to be intimidated by curly, kinky, or wavy hair. As a result, thinning, notching, and blunt cutting are often methods used to deal with the bulk and texture. At Curve we address the curl pattern and bulk through face framing angles, soft layering, and light slicing. Although heavy thinning, carving, and slicing are methods many stylists use to address curly hair, the client is often left with a cut that is hard to read when trying to style at home. We at Curve not only want you to look good in our salon, but also to be able to handle and maintain your tresses on your own with ease. Our technique allows for a graceful ‘growing out’ stage. In addition, you will have the versatility of wearing your hair both curly AND straight, because the cut is structured.”

  That detailed, informational approach was all over the flier, which offered full disclosure about all of our methods, including preparation, deep treatments, and styling methods. We turned our brochure into a mini–hair Bible, taking potential clients through it step by step and talking about the importance of services like wash and blowouts and deep-conditioning treatments:

  “Curly, kinky, or wavy hair is inherently dry and porous. Because of the dryness, oils, waxes, and silicones are piled on to add moisture and control the curl. The buildup from these products can prevent hair from breathing and may cause further damage, frizz, and dehydration. Our deep conditioner penetrates each strand with a two-way moisturizing system that attracts moisture to parched areas as it seals in lubricants. The hair is pliable and softer. At Curve we apply our deep treatment to cover your entire mane. You are then placed under a warm setting for twenty minutes. The heat allows the treatment to penetrate the hair shaft. Your thirsty hair has now been quenched.”

  For every hair issue, we provided not only a solution but also an approach that was different from what was being offered elsewhere. This enabled our customer to walk out with something that wouldn’t require such regular salon visits and that she could maintain at home. The best client was an informed client who understood the purpose behind our process.

  This was especially important for our Silkener treatment, which became one of our most sought-after services and continues to be to this day. This chemical process is much less damaging to hair than a full-on relaxer or hair straightener, and it isn’t about changing a woman’s natural curl by straightening it out of existence. Instead, it serves as a permanent “defrizzant,” loosening any kink, curl, or wave, giving it more length, adding uniformity for a silkier, shinier curl pattern. We were moving away from relaxers and straighteners, and this was the compromise. The Silkener uses a mild lye-based chemical of sodium hydroxide (a common ingredient for relaxers), so it doesn’t dry out the hair like “no lye” relaxers, especially when we use it in combination with a deep conditioner. The result is more manageable hair that can have the best of both worlds, allowing our customers to wear their hair both curly and straight without the usual frizz and shrinkage. The beauty of the treatment is that it can be easily maintained, doesn’t require that awkward period of transition, and requires only a couple of processes a year to keep up.

  We laid it all out, trying to catch the attention of women who never knew they had other options for their hair. We wanted to let our customers know we understood their concern and that there was a place for them to go. In addition to describing some of our services, the brochure also described who Titi and I were, the fact that we were of Asian and African-American descent, and that we had experience with all types of naturally curly hair.

  I ordered hundreds of the fliers from a printer on Utica Avenue who gave me a good rate. I distributed them all over the higher-income neighborhoods in Brooklyn and Manhattan. We wanted to attract discerning customers who were willing to pay for top-notch service. I covered a lot of ground as I sought out the best neighborhoods, hitting boutiques, cafés, espresso bars, and bistros. We had to get up, get out, and go door-to-door. It was the kind of thing I had done when I was promoting our family cleaning business in Manhattan, though a much more upscale version of that “to the streets” marketing tactic. Within days of all our legwork, our phone was ringing nonstop.

  REPEAT CUSTOMER

  One of those callers was Simone Harris, who’d seen my handiwork at a coffee shop on DeKalb Avenue in Clinton Hill. “Hi there, I saw your flier and was wondering when I could come in and see you,” she told Titi, who was answering the phones that morning.

  “What are you looking to have done?” Titi asked her.

  “A rescue!” she said, laughing. “I’m growing out my natural hair, and I have no idea what to do with it!”

  Simone was completely unfazed by our location; she lived nearby, in Clinton Hill. When she walked in for her appointment, we liked her immediately. She was young, long-limbed, and lovely, like a gazelle, with big doe eyes and a wide smile. At the encouragement of a boyfriend, she’d done the Big Chop a few months earlier, to get rid of chemically fried and relaxed hair, and now that it was growing, she needed some serious styling.

  “I want to have a curly bob of some kind, but I’m afraid of looking like Marge Simpson’s sister Selma,” she joked, referring to the tight triangular look that could happen if the curl wasn’t cut or handled correctly.

  The good news was that Simone had a healthy head of hair. It was a thick, tight coil, but not the tightest, and I didn’t need to do any damage control. In addition to taking a break from harsh chemical treatments, she was obviously savvy about which products worked best. Like most women with highly textured hair, Simone had a bathroom cabinet full of products she’d tried over the years—what she called her “product graveyard”—and was meticulous about keeping it moisturized and c
onditioned, always searching for the next great product for her hair type.

  Even just a few years before, the popular perception was that natural hair was too distracting for a corporate setting. Although she was a couple of years younger than we were, Simone had a successful career in an advertising firm that featured a multicultural setting more accepting of different ethnic looks.

  In short, she was the perfect canvas for me to work on. First, we washed, conditioned, combed out, and blow-dried her hair straight, so that I could see what was really going on with her texture. A lot of stylists like to cut hair wet, but that tends to create even more of a curl pattern and makes it impossible to check the accuracy of your work, leaving the customer to discover those mistakes when she gets home and tries to style it herself.

  Once I’d smoothed out Simone’s hair with the blow dryer, I carefully cut about an inch all over to clean up the ends. As I went to work, Simone shared a little of her story. We never force clients to engage in conversation at the salon. We sense their mood, and if they want to chat, they can, but if they just want to zone out and relax, that’s cool, too. In the three hours she was with us, Simone did both, sharing and joking about the challenges of dating in the city, and the trials and tribulations of balancing good grooming with an active lifestyle. A big reason why she’d done the Big Chop was to free herself from having to always worry about getting her hair wet. She wanted to be able to run, swim, and generally do her thing outside in the wind, rain, or shine. She wanted the freedom that overprocessed hair, weaves, and wigs don’t give. That was exactly how I felt when I was cutting off my own relaxed hair.

  The cut took some time. I gave her a little layering in the back but was careful not to overdo it. Simone had a lot of variation to her curl: It was loose in the front, tight in the middle, and wavy underneath. That meant the wrong layering would leave it too high at the top, when the goal was to have all that curl cascade down in a loose ringlet. Once the cut was done, I flat-ironed and flipped her hair, like Mary J. Blige’s. When she saw the final result in the mirror, her face lit up. “This is as long as it was before it went natural!” Simone told me. “I can’t wait for my man to see it!”