How a salon in the Dominican Republic helped me embrace my curly hair

20-year-old Maria writes about her first time in a curly hair salon and how it helped her confront the colonial history and stigma surrounding hair textures in the Dominican Republic.

“Your hair is too messy and unkempt, it would look better if you straightened it." This is a sentence every Dominican curly-haired girl has unfortunately heard at least once in her lifetime, including myself. 

It would be normal to think that in a country where the majority of the population is born with curly hair, everyone is allowed to wear their natural hair freely. But sadly, this hasn’t always been the case here in the Dominican Republic. 

I am extremely blessed to have a mom who always told me how beautiful my curls were and taught me to take care of them from a very young age. But it was really hurtful when I heard some people would use terms like pajón or even moño malo — pejorative colloquial terms used to describe curly hair texture —  to describe my hair and tell me that I needed to go to the hair salon to make it “prettier.”

“Seeing women like Carolina who had hair like me, running a business centred on empowering people with curly hair, as well as the stylists working there who shared their knowledge with such warmth and kindness was beyond inspiring.” (Photo courtesy of Maria Peralta)

This strong social stigma rooted in Dominican culture finds its origins in the country’s colonial history. In 1492, La Hispaniola, the island shared by Haiti and the Dominican Republic, became the first Spanish colony in the Americas and stayed one until 1821. During this long colonised period, straight hair became a symbol of power and wealth as it corresponded to Eurocentric beauty standards. Thus, for disenfranchised women, mostly of African descent, straightening hair became a way to imitate the higher class by suppressing any trait of blackness in order to climb the social ladder and access better ways of living, including a good quality education as well as better jobs.

To this day, although the DR is among the top five countries with the largest African diaspora in the world, acknowledging black origins is still considered taboo, and the stigma against curly hair is simply a result of this. Everything that represents blackness is viewed as being “ugly” or “ inferior.”

The stigma goes as far as banning girls and women from attending school and work institutions if they’re wearing their natural hair. In 2019, in the eastern region of the island, an 11-year-old girl was banned from attending her school because she was wearing an afro, after deciding to stop relaxing her curls, because the school sub-principal thought that it “wouldn’t allow her to think properly.” This case shows how dangerous this mindset can be for Dominican girls as it can even reach the point of affecting their education as well as their professional future.  

The racial discrimination against women with curly and afro-textured hair is the reason behind the prominent hair salon culture in our country. Straight hair being the ultimate symbol of beauty and high socioeconomic status, Dominican hair salons are the place where most women go to be accepted.  

Thankfully, even though traditional hair salons are still highly prominent in the Dominican Republic, the conversation on curly hair has been evolving, and today Santo Domingo has many curly hair salons that offer specialised services to treat natural hair without harmful procedures.

Dominican-American Carolina Contreras is the founder of Miss Rizos, one of the first curly hair salons in the country. Located in the heart of the Colonial Zone of Santo Domingo, Miss Rizos is a place where women of all ages are welcome to learn how to properly take care of their hair and feel empowered by embracing their natural beauty. 

When I first went to Miss Rizos back in 2019, I was in awe of how nicely I was received and how well the stylists handled my curls. In my previous experiences going to hair salons in Santo Domingo, I was constantly told how messy or tangled my hair was, and it was really difficult finding hairdressers who knew how to properly style and cut my hair. But here, it was different. I was told how beautiful my curls were, and the stylists knew how to treat my curls according to my texture and even shared tips with me to improve my hair care routine.

Inside Miss Rizos hair salon. (Photo courtesy of Miss Rizos)

Seeing women like Carolina who had hair like me, running a business centred on empowering people with curly hair, as well as the stylists working there who shared their knowledge with such warmth and kindness was beyond inspiring. It felt like I was part of an incredible community full of extraordinary women who owned and rocked their pajones. 

Nevertheless, what left me most impressed by this visit was how parents brought their little girls to get their hair done by curly hair professionals, allowing them to feel like little princesses while wearing their natural hair, instead of taking them to traditional hair salons where they’re only told their hair looks pretty and healthy after blow drying it, a process that damages their natural pattern. 

Every Dominican girl should be free to decide how to wear her hair — whether that’s curly or straight — without being afraid of other people’s prejudices or jeopardising her education and future. In order for this to happen, there needs to be a shift in the population's mindset, a shift that allows every girl and woman to feel appreciated and celebrated without having to change their appearance, and that shift starts with each and every one of us.