Your Hair Is a Recession Indicator

Your Hair is a Recession Indicator

written by kat boskovic

art by hailey kroll

Once, I paid $120 to go blonde. Now, I trim my split ends in my bathroom mirror. 

I’m not alone; I know many who are surrendering their platinum hair for dark roots, swapping regular salon visits for $8 box dye from CVS, and getting free haircuts in friends’ bathrooms. Whether we read The Wall Street Journal or not, we know when bleach starts to feel like a luxury rather than a six-week upkeep. Like hemlines and lipsticks, hairstyles too respond to the broader economic climate. Since President Donald Trump came into office, we’ve seen a whirlwind of speculation as tariffs increase and trade wars ignite; the mighty word “recession” whispers in articles, news headlines, and even in passing conversations with your neighbor or grocery store cashier. But it also lives in your hair, and it always has, even in the curls of your mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother. 

As the United States’ traditional economy metamorphosed into a free market economy in the face of a war-ridden Europe, the American Twenties roared. The auto industry flourished, washing machines and refrigerators became household staples, commercial airlines took off (literally), and men from all over the country flocked to Wall Street in hopes of capturing the American Dream. In just nine years, the U.S. had grown its economy by more than 30%, and it declared itself an economic superpower as devastated European countries leaned on America for support under the Marshall Plan. From this economic boom and newfound global influence, a tidal wave of social change swept through the blossoming country as its people not only embraced technological advancements, but also a new cultural identity that rejected the conservative restraints of the past. 

So then came the flappers. These women were modern, fearless, and free—and they didn’t lack pocket money. Their sleek bobs just gently reaching their chins styled with playful waves demanded frequent salon visits to maintain their precise shape, and various pomades or oils were needed to achieve the desired shine. The bob became a badge of status for women who not only embraced their new freedom, but also the luxury of money to mark themselves as the cultural elite of the Jazz Age. And thanks to an economic boom, they had plenty of spare change to do so. 

But the bob collapsed with the stock market in 1929 when Wall Street’s frenzy over a 4.6% decline in market value shattered the American economy into pieces, and the Roaring Twenties fell silent. A decade of scarcity and survival rolled over the country as the Great Depression set in with unforgiving force; millions lost their jobs, breadlines stretched for blocks, and those who had been evicted from their homes set up camp in Hoovervilles of cardboard and scraps of metal. Americans stretched meals, patched clothes, and even a measly trim was no longer a casual expense, but a calculated decision. Where the bob once represented indulgence, hairstyles now shifted toward practicality. Women took scissors into their own hands, growing out their hair, twisting pin curls at night, and repurposing household goods for homemade pomades and setting lotions. The salons were now desolate.

Until the Fabulous Fifties, that is. After the hardship and rationing of the Great Depression and World War II, the postwar years brought an economic boom—and with it, a return to glamor. The “Golden Age of Capitalism” marked one of the most impressive economic expansions in U.S. history as Americans weary from scarcity were eager to spend. Factories that had once produced tanks and planes now churned out cars, radios, and televisions, and under the GI Bill, returning soldiers who wanted homes could get them fast. Productivity soared, and companies could afford raising wages without cutting profits. While the 1930s forced women to use what they had, the 1950s coaxed them to spend. 

Enter the blonde bombshells: Marilyn Monroe, Jayne Mansfield, and a country of imitators whose peroxide curls defined mid-century femininity. A weekly visit to the hair salon was penciled into every housewife’s calendar to achieve these flirty waves they drooled over. Once husbands were off to work and children were driven to school, women spent hours with their gal pals and stylists, emerging with fresh curls and bouffants. These salons weren’t just places of grooming; they were rituals of glamor and community. Camera-ready hair became a visual cue that life was stable, husbands were earning, and America was winning. 

And over time, this pattern continued. The women of the seventies stagflation opted for long, natural looks they labeled as “bohemian,” the women of Reagan’s presidency sported voluminous perms, and the discretely expensive “Rachel” haircuts took the women of the nineties by storm. More recently during the subprime mortgage crisis of 2008, box dye sales rose exponentially as women sought cheaper methods for their MySpace glam—a trend coincidentally characterized by DIY bleach jobs, jagged bangs, and clip-in extensions. Hair has been shortened and grown, curled and straightened, as our economy expands and diminishes. In my teenage years of the 2010s, I experimented with hair dye more than I studied for math tests (and honestly, the results were just as unpredictable). My hair was brown, then blonde, then ginger and dark red and black and every shade in between; it was long, then short, then long again, sometimes with layers and curtain bangs and sometimes without. On random afternoons when I was bored and had finished my homework, I’d book a salon visit or buy random box dye. My hair would turn gray from dye before stress about the money in my pockets. 

Now, my mousy brown roots threaten the lingering auburn of my hair, and the split ends that cling on for dear life will be trimmed in the bathroom sink. When even a morning coffee at Starbucks has my eyebrows furrowed in financial worry, a $120 salon visit would send me into a panic attack. The shade of my hair shifts down the color wheel alongside my priorities, just as countless other women turn to cost-effective box dyes and at-home styling tools as we enter this recession, like the pin-curled women of the thirties, the boho women of the seventies, and the women of 2008 and their hot-pink extensions. We adapt to the world around us, and as history has confirmed, whether it’s a flapper bob or a grown-out root, our hairstyle often mirrors the time we live in.