Calgary Hair Witch

I crossed land and sky to deliver crimson chaos to my sister.

She started the day a brunette and ended it looking like she lives deep in the woods offering prophecies nobody asked for.

This red was brewed from dragon’s blood, moonwater, and q***r audacity.

Not all witches stay in one place. Some of us travel carrying bleach, colour bowls, and bad intentions.

67 years old and still collecting new versions of herself like charms.

Came in for her first fashion colour and chose a hidden streak of purple like the absolute boss witch she is. Quiet power. Sharp tongue. Good hair.

Some people age gracefully.
Some people age into their final form.

A suit case full of colour. Two plane rides. Armed with nothing by my brushes and my q***r audacity. For this coven member we summoned a full aurora, and probably altered the tides a little. Prism hair for the ones powerful enough to wear the whole damn sky!

Somewhere between a science experiment and spellwork.
Building ribbons of colour to catch the light like a prism when this hair moves.

This is just the processing stage but trust me… the final reveal is worth the wait.

DM me if you’re ready for hair that doesn’t believe in subtle.

step one of this midnight transformation is officially underway.
blue melting into black like the last light disappearing from the sky.

she’s not finished yet though. the real magic comes in part two.

stay tuned, witches.

Came to the island to do hair.
Ended up finding a little more of myself too.

There’s something healing about ocean air, old friends, and taking the long way through unfamiliar places. Grateful for the work that brings me here and the moments in between appointments that remind me who I am outside the salon chair.

Different season
Different scalp
Different routine

Not “product fatigue”

Let’s find what actually works for you

My mom came to town for Mother’s Day and fully embraced the salon ritual: fresh hair, a glass of wine, and catching up in my chair for hours.

Honestly, getting to do my own mom’s hair feels a little sacred. The woman who taught me how to care for people now sits in my chair while I fuss over her for a change.

Soft glam. Good wine. Better company.

Grey isn’t something I cover
It’s something I enhance, blend, or let shine

You’re not fading
You’re refining

sometimes your appointment turns into a full-on jam session and honestly… that’s the point. you deserve a space where you can be loud, weird, and fully yourself

the hair still eats btw

dm me when you’re ready for your main character moment

I don’t f**k with
gender-based pricing

Your hair doesn’t know your gender
Only your texture, density, and goals

More hair = more time + product
Less hair = less

That’s it

Caption:
I charge for the work
Not the label

Come as you are
Sit in my chair as your full self