My first 6 months as a salon owner

On August 8th 2022, I signed the lease for my salon. I had spent the day before in the office of my solicitor, waiting for the documents to be sent from my landlord's legal team. While there I went on a wild goose chase to find another solicitor who could witness me signing some of the other final docs.

After several hours of waiting for the email to come, I decided to leave and on my way home I got the notification for a new message but it was too late to turn around. It had already taken several weeks so what was one more day. But my solicitor was technically off work as she was preparing for the imminent birth of a grandchild and hoped to get my matter sorted but no such luck. So I ended up signing the lease outside an estate in south London and it all felt very anticlimactic.

On the bus ride home, I didn’t feel elated, so far nothing had gone to plan and I wondered if I had made a huge mistake but getting the keys the next day pushed those feelings aside.

Opening a salon felt like a bait on a stick, always visible but just out of reach. More than once I had lamented to friends that other people who were able to do it while I was finding it impossible.

”Do other salon owners have two heads?”

But I had finally done it. Luckily the space didn’t need too much work to get up and running and I started to finally buy furniture and hire contractors. If you follow me on instagram, you know it was plenty wahala. Missed deliveries, constant delays and money was just fluttering out of my account.

The biggest hold up was the arrival of my salon chairs and sink. The only thing I knew for sure when I opened my spot is that I was going to have fully reclinable massage chairs. I mean my clients deserve the best right.

I would sit in the salon for days on end waiting for a delivery that the company knew wasn’t coming. It got to the point I had to ask for my followers to call on my behalf because I was getting ignored. They promptly arrived a few days later. Shout out to my riders. Once again all the stress seemed to ease and even though slightly apprehensive I felt we were moving again and I booked in the plumber for the weekend with a hope of finally opening the following week.

“Ebuni when is the salon opening?”
“Spring/summer, ok maybe late summer. Soon soon soon…”

What happened next was so…I even find it hard to write as typing means it is real.

My sister called me the next day to say our little brother was dead. My heart is racing as I write this because I still can’t really comprehend it. I went into crisis mode. I felt like I couldn’t deal with the emotions of it so I had to focus on one moment at a time. All I wanted was time and space just to catch my breath but I couldn’t take more than a few days. The salon was already months behind schedule and I had stopped taking clients to wrap things up quickly but it was still dragging.

Everyday I got up, went to work and tried my best to function. The thing I had begged for was mine but to call it a burden isn’t enough. I struggled to see clients and could just about make it through each day. Even though I tried to busy myself with work, I couldn’t tell you what happened between September- January. Building in public was done. I didn’t want to be outside, let alone at work or trying to promote my brand new business.

But capitalism doesn’t care about your feelings or circumstances and that contract said me and you are in this so I’m trying to keep pushing.

It feels like I have been playing catch up, trying to find my way and figure things out while rising bills & grief are smacking me left and right.

Although I have been in absolutely no mood to celebrate, (I tried to force myself to have an opening party but set myself up by scheduling it for way too soon and not even being remotely ready so canceled) I am trying to be proud of myself for what I (we) have achieved and still be hopeful for the endless possibilities of what Untype can become.

Wins so far