“I remember travelling what then gave the look of a seven-hour journey, simply to get to the hairdressers. We lived in just a little town just outside of London, and so for each occasion from Eid to weddings, my sisters, my mum and I might take the train into Marylebone to go to the one hair salon my whole family went to,” Sarah Jamal tells Dazed. “At seven years old, I assumed it was special. At 15, I assumed it was simply annoying to travel over two hours to get my hair done, and by 22, I became frustrated because the realisation set in that there was no space for ladies like me on this world.”

For Sarah, a Black Muslim woman who wears the hijab, booking an appointment with the local hairdressers isn’t so straightforward. It involves navigating through the complexities of finding a hairdresser who understands their unique hair type, but in addition respects their modesty. Sarah isn’t alone – it’s a sentiment that comes up repeatedly among the many women I speak to. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable just walking right into a hair salon as a hijabi unless it was Muslim-owned,” says Salma. “I wish there have been more options,” says Nusra. “I can’t help but feel unwelcome in all but a number of high street hair salon chains,” Basma says.

For Muslim women who observe modesty, wearing the hijab is part of their day by day religious practice that extends beyond mere clothing decisions; it shapes their interactions and experiences in various elements of life, including visits to the hairdresser. The hijab is barely a mere physical symbol of their practice, it’s an expression of a spiritual devotion. A Muslim woman would need to be certain that a hair salon has women who can work on their hair and that the space is secluded not only from staff and clients but the surface world too – no front-facing windows.

Beauty salons are sometimes idealised as sanctuaries of not only rest and self-care, but in addition community and connection – a protected space for all. Yet, in point of fact, for many individuals, including Muslim women, it’s an area they’re excluded from. “I even have turn into very well-versed at doing my very own hair at home but I can only accomplish that much; haircuts are my downfall,” says Sarah. “Plus, there’s just something about having your hair washed by another person that may’t be replicated at home.”

On a microscale, a network of Muslim hairdressers have taken the matter into their very own hands. Retired hairdresser Maryam Mahmoud began off in her own lounge, making a makeshift hair salon for the Muslim women in her community. Maryam’s salon was a women-only space, from staff to clients. She also had a spot for prayer and ensured that the world was completely secluded, including blinding out the windows. Eventually, demand exceeded the potential of her lounge so she opened the primary Muslim woman-run hair salon in her neighbourhood to which women now travel far and wide.

It’s not only groundroots spaces which might be reflecting this growing awareness of the necessity for inclusivity and accessibility. From Harrods to Aveda, established hairdressers are also creating space inside their salons specifically designed for ladies who wear the hijab. “We got an email from a woman asking if we do hair appointments for ladies who practise wearing the hijab, and we realised what an enormous failure it was that we didn’t,” says Iona Mathieson, operations director at east London-based salon Salt. “How could we call ourselves a salon for everybody after we couldn’t cater for such an enormous portion of our local population?” Consequently, Salt now offers regular days dedicated for ladies only, complete with only women staff, and further measures to make sure everyone feels comfortable.

Instances like this send a message: salons will be modified to cater for all clients no matter their needs. “We’re based in east London, which has one in every of the largest Muslim communities in England. [Trying to be more inclusive] doesn’t just mean all hair types, it means all people,” Mathieson says. “A lot of the hijabi I’ve spoken to have been cutting their hair at home for years and are excited concerning the prospect of coming to a salon, having their hair washed with a pleasant head massage, having another person cut their hair and use premium hair products on them. It’s almost as much about having the choice to be included within the experience that other women have because it is concerning the haircut itself.”

Designated women-only days at hair salons signal an evolution of what the salon experience will be like not only for Muslim women but for people with social anxiety or disabilities. “It’s not only Muslim women who booked with us; it was all women from different walks of life,” Mahmoud says concerning the clients who got here to her salon. “The allure was that we were capable of provide a protected and personal space.”

Ultimately, for inclusion to achieve success it can require Muslim women to be heard and solidarity from throughout the industry. For the nuances in how their hijab impacts their salon experience to be recognised, whether it’s assigned days or separate areas throughout the salon, Muslim women ought to be on the core of the conversation. “Now, greater than ever, the importance of building inclusive and supportive spaces for everybody, and particularly Muslim women is clear,” Salma Abukar tells Dazed. “Simply because you cover your hair, [doesn’t mean] that you just don’t have hair care needs,” says Aisha Muhammed.

When Mahmoud wasn’t capable of discover a salon that catered to her specific needs, she opened her own salon. By placing value on different needs of her clients, and her own, she was capable of provide for an enormous community, to create an area allowing Muslim women to are inclined to their haircare needs within the hands of an expert, just similar to other women do. “The dream shouldn’t be having to travel to the alternative end of the tube line for a blow-dry,” says Aisha.