Hash Tag Now What...

 The Struggles of a Gen X Hairdresser in the Content Creator World
One thing I can do that genz or even millennial hairdressers cant do?...I can foil a head of highlights faster than you can say Balayage, however don’t ask me to “optimize my engagement strategy.” I’m a Gen X hairdresser, which means I grew up in an era where the only thing we posted was actual mail, and we had to lick it.
​Now I’m required to film a 15-second video, edit it with AI-generated captions, add trending audio, and somehow look fabulous doing it. And when I say required, I mean to keep up, stay current if you will. 
In truth, I’m squinting at my phone like my mom trying to program the VCR in 1987.
Here’s the thing: Gen Z and Millennials were basically born with ring lights in their cribs. They can lip-sync to six audios, point at floating words, and somehow go viral before their oat milk latte even cools. Me? I just wanted to show you a cute bob I cut on Emily, but Instagram insists it needs to be a Reel, not a post, and I can’t even consider uploading horizontally because that’s basically a war crime now.
And what exactly are trending hashtags? Once upon a time, the pound sign was how you knew you’d misdialed. Today? The expectation is to type out 30 variations of #hairgoals and #shorthairdontcare while praying the algorithm gods don’t bury me. Half the time I don’t even know if I’m shadowbanned or just boring.
The latest trend? They want me to dance.
No, I will not do a TikTok dance in the salon, Julia. My knees are 50 years old and have seen some things. If you want choreography, go to Beyoncé. What I can do is give you layers that grow out like butter—does the algorithm reward that? Not so much.
And let’s not forget the tech side. “Just edit it in CapCut!” they say. Sure, let me just spend three hours learning a software program so I can get 127 views—75 of which are probably me, checking if it uploaded right.
And the kicker? Some clients now come clutching screenshots of hair from influencers who live in LA, have three stylists on call, and probably wash with unicorn tears. And when their fine, over-processed hair doesn’t magically turn into Gigi Hadid’s, guess where their expectations lie? Not with the algorithm.
Alas I soldier on. Because at the end of the day, I love what I do—even if it means hashtagging my way into oblivion. One day, maybe, the social media gods will bless me with viral fame. Until then, I’ll be here with my scissors, my coffee, and my ring light that still hasn’t been assembled because the instructions were in millennial.

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