Working for Someone Else Isn't Failure. But Staying Too Long Might Be.
It was the first week of working as a salon assistant. Imagine working from your momma’s basement, then stepping into a commission-based salon that specializes in natural hair and braids. I was already braiding my friends’ hair to earn some money and meet my basic needs, but we all reach a point where we want more. I was ready and excited to see, from a hairstylist’s perspective, what it was like working in a salon all day. Those first days were a little overwhelming, but what really helped me was taking time to watch how the more experienced stylists moved, asking lots of questions whenever I was unsure, and being open to feedback from everyone around me. If you’re just starting out, don’t be afraid to observe, take notes, and soak up as much as you can — the more you learn early on, the more confident you’ll feel.
What’s the salon environment like? How do we set up our station for clients? Which station will be my styling station? Last but not least, how much would I get paid? Or so I thought — because when I hit the door, I was trapped behind the front desk. They assigned me to welcome clients, schedule appointments, and offer tea and light hors d’oeuvres, but not touch hair off the bat. I repeat: I could not come in as a new hairstylist and start doing hair.
It immediately humbled the young lady who was eager to show off her skills and be in the midst of other professionals. Having to handle the front desk had me a little tight at first, but about 90 days in — deep in cleaning mode — I received a golden nugget. I realized I was learning salon backend operations in real time. From cold-calling clients who hadn’t been back to the salon in a while, to learning other stylists’ schedules, setting standard prices, negotiating conflicts between stylists, cleaning and sanitizing every tool until my fingers were wrinkled, and running closing and opening procedures every day — it all taught me that there is more to beauty than just making people look and feel amazing. You must also know how to work a system that keeps your beauty business sustainable and scalable.
Salon work involves so much more than you think, and you have to be in an established environment to see for yourself how all the parts work. Working in that salon taught me that you have to understand and respect everyone’s role at a basic level before you can lead in that space. If you’ve never done it, you can’t tell others how to do something they’ve been doing for a long time. As a beginner, remaining humble — and not messing up their lunch orders — served me well. All the little tasks outside of hair build discipline and structure. Being the first to arrive and the last to go home reveals your character and your passion for the business. Getting paid bi-weekly taught me to slow down and manage my income, because when I was running on my own, I was spending it as fast as I received it. These were priceless lessons I would never have learned without working in a well-established salon.
Once I evolved from salon assistant to natural hairstylist, I really began to soar. The clients I used to travel to were now coming to my place of work to be serviced in a proper salon. That’s a proud moment in itself. Over time, I maintained both roles whenever the owner needed assistance. After some time had passed, my books started to get intense — and the owner decided to switch from a commission-based model to a booth-rental salon.
At the time, it sounded like a good idea, but once it was implemented among the staff, I began to struggle with the changes and noticed a decrease in my earnings. Here’s what stylists get to enjoy when a commission-based salon is done right: all employees earn a livable wage based on hours worked, plus commission from products sold and services rendered. Our services were premium, which really helped make the model work. By switching to booth rental, you — the stylist — become responsible for all your own products and tools, and for building your own clientele. And let’s not forget: you have to manage your finances well enough to pay booth rent on time every week.
When I first started booth rental, I had to get much more strategic with my budget. I tracked every dollar I spent — not just booth rent, but also products, equipment, marketing, and even small supplies like towels and gloves. I set aside a fixed portion of every client payment so I would always have enough for next week’s rent, and I built up a cushion for slow periods. Comparing month-to-month helped me spot where I could save, like buying supplies in bulk or splitting costs with a fellow stylist. If I could offer one piece of advice, it would be this: overestimate your expenses and save more than you think you’ll need, so you aren’t caught off guard when you make the switch. I rolled with the punches initially, but I had enough of my own clients that I knew — soon enough — I’d be ready to spread my wings and move on from that salon home.
Over time, I saw how burned out the salon owner was. She gave so much of herself to her business, and when a family emergency arose, it became a turning point — priorities had to shift, and adjustments had to be made. Even though we understood she had to do what was best for her, it affected everyone, and the loyal ones stayed as long as they could. Beyond the professional ties, these women had become family. They were my aunties, my sistas, my mentors. We saw long days together, learned together, and helped so many lives in one space. The community I had hoped for in cosmetology school — I found it in this salon, the one that nurtured me and celebrated my talents. You may not know how rare salon chemistry is, but when you find it, it feels like a small pocket of heaven on Earth. It was a home away from home. I didn’t want to just up and leave, but I saw the writing on the wall. The salon was shifting — into what, I didn’t know — and something in me said, it’s time to move on.
If I could rewind the hands of time, I would still have left — but I believe there is a more amicable way to transition. I would have clarified the protocol for client management from the beginning, because the lines blurred over time, and contracts are still contracts. In some salon contracts, you are not allowed to take clients acquired in the salon with you to your next place of business. I also would have saved significantly more money for the transition, because no one talks about the income breakdown or the client loss that can happen in the middle of it. Keep in mind that your next salon may charge more in booth rent, so having a financial cushion makes for a much smoother move. And lastly, I wish I had communicated with my clients more clearly. You don’t have to lay out every detail, but they do have the right to know why you are leaving, where you are going, and how soon they can expect to follow. After all, it is their choice whether to come with you or stay.
Though this particular salon transitioned to a booth-rental model, the commission-based model works very well for beginners and even novice stylists. It’s when you become an intermediate-to-expert stylist that you finally realize the model has a ceiling — and that you’ve already surpassed it. The commission salon financially incentivizes you to stay comfortable, to repeat the same services, to stay in the lane they built for you. If you sell just enough products, you might earn a small raise or a limited promotion. When you are new, a commission salon will give you the stability you need — but not the expansion you deserve. Over time, you become less creative and more controlled. You get salary-capped. You stop knowing how to market yourself outside those four walls. And you become locked into clients who may not grow with you.