The Long Way Forward | 10 Years of Learning, Building, and Becoming
When I opened The Hair Mansion a decade ago, I thought I knew what I needed to know. I had business classes under my belt, years of experience behind the chair, and a graphic designer who helped shape my first vision. I wasn’t new to the hair industry—but I was definitely new to the full scope of building a business from the ground up.
When I first stepped into this space, it was a room with walls. I saw what it could become—clean lines, intention in every corner, a space designed for presence and connection.
I quickly realized how much I didn’t know—and how much those I’d worked for before me didn’t know either. Everything looked different when it was mine to shape. And so began the real learning. Not just about brand aesthetics or salon flow, but about running a business with intention, managing life’s curveballs, and slowly letting go of what didn’t align with my future.
The first full expression of my vision. Every detail was chosen with intention—from the logo on the wall to the coffee setup—inviting guests to feel at home while being taken care of. I was doing it all, and loving every moment.
Of everything in this room, it was the logo on the wall that meant the most. It was the very first piece Lisa designed for me—born from a vision I had for something that didn’t exist yet. Seeing it on that wall made it all feel real. Guests loved taking photos in front of it, and so did I. That simple square held so much pride, possibility, and presence. It was harder than I expected to walk away from this space… but especially from that wall.
Over the years, I had to unlearn the jack-of-all-trades mentality that was so deeply ingrained. Yes, I can do almost anything—but that doesn’t mean I should. I don’t love every part of this industry, and I’ve learned to be okay with that. For example: perms. I had them as a teenager and felt beautiful at the time—until I saw the photos. What I thought were cascading curls were, in reality, a frizzy poodle mess. That experience stuck with me. While I know there are stylists who love and specialize in perms, I’m not one of them. I focus on the services that light me up and deliver results I believe in.
This is the only photo I have of myself working in my first space—and I’m so glad I found it. It’s unposed, it’s real, and it’s exactly what The Hair Mansion has always been about: being fully present, fully committed, one guest at a time.
A few years in, my life took a hard turn. I had to downsize my space, become a single mom, and restructure everything—including my schedule—to prioritize what mattered most. During that time, I started leaning into what I truly specialize in—letting go of the pressure to be everything to everyone. I refined my services and focused on the work I loved most, the work I knew I could deliver at the highest level.
This was my second space—smaller, quieter, and somehow more sacred. I had just come through a big personal change, and every detail in this room was intentional. It held me while I rebuilt. I’ll never forget standing by that door, knowing I was still here… and still all in.
When the pandemic hit, it brought new challenges—but also unexpected clarity. Ideas that seemed unconventional before—like disposable towels and exclusive solo appointments—became part of the new normal. And they stuck, because they worked. They made sense for me, my guests, and my space.
Every inch of this room worked hard. I colored, cut, dreamed, and sometimes cried here. The space may have been small, but the energy was big—and deeply personal. This was where I found my rhythm again.
Somewhere along the way, my graphic designer and I parted ways. Suddenly, it was all me. In February of this year, I sat in front of my computer and completely redesigned my website. No help. No professionals. Just me, pulling from everything I had learned—technically, visually, and emotionally—over the last 10 years. It was hard. And it was one of the most fulfilling things I’ve ever done.
Today, I create all of my own graphics, content, layouts, blog posts, and marketing. Every piece you see—every gallery, every page, every story—comes directly from me. I’ve spent more time outside the salon chair working on this business than most people realize. I’ve grown from “not sure if this is working” to knowing exactly who I am and what I want to offer. And now I’m finally able to deliver it—from A to Z.
The cozy corner where comfort meets care. My velvet loveseat and curated shelving bring warmth and intention to this small but mighty space.
This was the moment I chose to work with one chair, one guest, and one experience at a time. This chair has heard stories, witnessed transformations, and held space for real connection. It’s not just where you sit—it’s where you become.
Next up? A full renovation. The orange cabinets I’ve been cleverly disguising with decor are finally on their way out. The aesthetic, the energy, the experience—it’s all aligning. And it’s all mine.
Mock-up of The Hair Mansion’s upcoming salon remodel, featuring white cabinetry, slate countertops and flooring, a black styling chair, and modern storage with soft neutral accents.
Ten years in, I’m not where I thought I’d be. I’m somewhere better. My goals have shifted. My priorities have evolved. But my commitment to showing up with my best—every single time—has never changed.
And through it all, I’ve learned to honor what makes me different.
At The Hair Mansion, I specialize in what I do best—artful hair design, dimensional color, precision shaping, and real collaboration. I take one guest at a time in a space crafted with intention. No rushing, no distractions. No gratuity, either—just transparent pricing and a focus on exceptional service.
Every detail of the experience, from the lighting to the layout to the language on my website, is considered. I’m not trying to be everything to everyone. I’m building a space where creativity, calm, and clarity come together. Where your time matters. Where your hair isn’t just styled—it’s understood.
I want your experience at The Hair Mansion to feel like more than just a salon visit. I want it to feel intentional. Elevated. And entirely yours.
This next chapter is the one I’ve been building toward for years. And I can’t wait to welcome you into it.
You deserve more than a spot in a row. This chair is yours—every visit, every time.
Somewhere along the way, Kanel found his place here too. Three years ago, he padded in with his velvet ears and steady presence—and never left. He may not have a job title, but if you’ve been in the chair, you know: he understands the assignment.
He doesn’t need a title. He just knows when you need him. Kanel, my constant companion and resident soul-soother.
