Why did locked-down South Africans worry so much about their hair in the early days of what has been described as a hinge in history? Jenna Lemmer takes a closer look at what could have made South Africans get so loony when level five and four of the national Covid-19 lockdown temporarily shuttered barbers and hair salons.
The Covid-19 pandemic has taken lives and livelihoods. It has littered the globe with system-level breakdowns that will take years to tidy up. But, along with these serious losses, South Africans also mourned their access to barbers and hairstylists – amongst other underappreciated luxuries. As natural roots began to grow out, hairlines got fuzzy and dreadlocks loosened – a collective panic started pulsing through social media platforms.
“There seemed to be a mild panic and desperation when people were speaking about their hair on social media,” says Kendra Scott, a contributor to the international hairstyle inspiration platform, All Things Hair.
Even the experts are warming to the idea of people cutting their own hair. If people are going to do it, the professionals might as well help them not to cause irreparable damage. INSTAGRAM POST: @allthingshairsa
According to Dr Maxine Spedding, a clinical psychologist based in Stellenbosch, the outcry was likely a manifestation of people’s profound anxieties about life during a global pandemic – as worries about seemingly superficial things like the health and appearance of their hair. “When people look in the mirror and they see overgrown, uncontrolled, ungroomed hair on the outside, their internal sense of feeling out of control is reflected back at them,” she says.
The world can’t be coming to an end if my barbershop is open
People are desperate to feel that things are normal, Spedding says. “If you don’t look the way you’re expecting to look, and it’s something that’s out of your hands – it’s clear to you that your life is not normal,” Spedding explains.
“If you can have your hair styled, then the world surely can’t be coming to an end,” Spedding muses. So if you cannot have your hair styled, could the world be coming to an end? Being deprived of access to the facilities which usually help them to maintain their standard appearance, can signal to people that there is a breakdown happening in their sense of normality, she says.
Looking at the size of South Africa’s haircare industry, it is clear that South Africans are serious about their hair. GRAPHIC: Jenna Lemmer
People might have felt a million little features of the world as they knew it coming to an end. But, hair growth certainly didn’t. “Life goes on. Your hair still grows – even in the face of this huge global trauma. And it feels quite bizarre that there are dead ordinary things that still keep happening when it feels like the whole world has stopped,” Spedding explains.
As long as hair is still growing, South Africans will be cultivating it into distinct styles, says Riaan Beukes, a freelance barber and hair enthusiast from Somerset West. “It’s still my life, you know? As an individual, you still have a reputation. Anything can happen – you never know who you might run into on an essential shopping trip,” Beukes says about tending to his own, and others’, hair during lockdown to “stay looking fresh”.
Freelance barber and hair enthusiast Riaan Beukes’ own The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air-inspired hairstyle tends to be welcomed in the more fashion-forward city of Cape Town, but frowned upon in Somerset West, he says. PHOTO: @riaanbeukes/Instagram
The way in which, especially black and coloured people, in South Africa choose to wear their hair is a big source of “woema” for them, Beukes says.
Taking scissors into one’s own hands
Beukes wasn’t the only one who cut his own hair during the lockdown, although he was perhaps one of the more qualified for the job.
First, the thought of being stuck at home without toilet paper drove many to panic-buying an unjustifiable number of rolls (totally disregarding the “essential” in “essential shopping”). Then, the thought of being stuck at home with unruly hair, drove many amateurs to take scissors to their own strands.
One such self-stylist is comedian, writer and actor Anne Hirsch. Hirsch confessed to successfully trimming her own hair six times since lockdown began – and counting.
Hirsch shared videos of herself trimming her hair on her social media pages, and “people went ballistic,” she says. “I haven’t had such an engaging post in ages. I was interviewed on Afternoon Express and Expresso about it. I think people thought I lost it.”
Comedian, writer and actor Anne Hirsch’s friends’ and followers’ anxiety about what is going on on top of (and inside) her head is evident in the comment section of the video she shared on her Instagram page. Nevertheless, Hirsch maintains that she might open her own salon, aptly named “Curl up and Dye”. INSTAGRAM POST: @anne_hirsch
Hirsch acknowledges that it might seem vain of her to make such a fuss about her hair. But hair is a highly complex part of her life, she quickly asserts. She starts explaining that, firstly, she just moved in with a new partner and “on a narcissistic level, one can’t let oneself go completely”.
Secondly, the thought of wearing her “incredibly curly” hair naturally rather than having it professionally straightened every three months and cut every two weeks… is more terrifying than “going full Britney”.
Thirdly, she admits that the snipping was partially fuelled by boredom. Here, she echoes Spedding’s opinion: The boredom and frustration of being confined to one’s home are definitely catalysts in the emotional “corona-coaster”, which ends with people taming their own manes.
“A lot of bleaching, and a lot of pinks,” is how Guy Kleinhaus explains the hair trends his clients have been opting for since his barbershop, Guy’s Chop Shop, reopened on Stellenbosch’s Bird Street in July. PHOTO: @guydoeshair/Instagram
But Hirsch’s and Beukes’ haircuts weren’t the only successful ones. According to Guy Kleinhaus, owner of the renowned Bird Street barbershop, Guy’s Chop Shop, the DIY haircuts his clients’ walked into his shop with when they reopened in July, “haven’t been that dire”.
Kleinhaus says that he was especially surprised with the work that a clients’ wife did. “He was watching a YouTube tutorial and guiding her through it, and his hair looked great,” Kleinhaus admits.
Breaking up with the way things were
Other than material for comic online content, a fresh haircut also provides immediate relief from distressing emotions, says Scott, the All Things Hair contributor. She mentions “girls chopping their hair into bobs after a bad breakup” as an example.
“I think a lot of people changed mentally during lockdown – like there was some kind of shift in their being to make them want to do something different. Whether that’s how they dress, or how they wear their hair or live their lives,” Kleinhaus says. According to him, many of his clients are asking for more daring styles than usual.
According to Zaylia Vivienne, a theology, psychology and women and gender studies student from Cape Town – and social media influencer – the lockdown was a reflective time, during which she thought a lot about her identity.
Vivienne used to straighten her curly hair to fit in with societal beauty ideals and the rest of the girls in her ballet class – which really damaged her hair, she says.
“I realised I’ve never felt at home until now,” Capetonian student and social media influencer Zaylia Vivienne says about embracing her natural hair. She adds a disclaimer: “Maintaining curly hair requires a lot of arm strength!” PHOTOS: @zaylizzle/Instagram
In the beginning of level five lockdown, Vivienne decided to cut the damage off her hair. “I looked in the mirror, and saw the damaged pieces hanging between the curls. I thought: ‘It’s time to leave’. So I cut it off. I felt like the part of me who didn’t embrace my curls had died and the new me – who I was made to be – is more alive than ever,” Vivienne says.
Like Vivienne’s, some lockdown-haircuts – fantasised or executed – was a way to express, or reinvestigate their identity. For others, it served as an emotional release or a way to assert control in perhaps the most uncertain time in modern history. We broke up with the way things were; it’s easier to grab a pair of scissors, than to grasp a sense of normality. So, do what you must… just don’t go full Britney.