For the first time in 10 years, Cameron Hendrix sat in a salon chair cutting hair. Her hairstylist asked her questions – what products did she use? Did he co-wash? How many times Does he keep his hair up?
Earlier, her hair stylists had refused to cut her short hair. And the hairdressers who are looking for men’s haircuts make her uncomfortable. But on Thursday afternoon, Hendrix was ready to try again at Salon Benders in Long Beach, which is known for its gender-neutral and inclusive approach.
The 25-year-old college student was recruited half black, half Mexican and female at birth. Although he expected long hair from women in his family, he said, he was never associated with the “female symbol”. She stopped looking for a stylist she could trust to look like the person she wanted, not herself.
“Hair is insecure, hair is the way you understand it,” Hendrix said.
For the queer community, hair – with its gender undertone – can be difficult to navigate. When salons are for women and barber shops are for men, where do you go for a haircut? Queer customers travel long distances to get new looks in a safe place at Salon Bender.
Owner Jesse Santiago opened the salon in 2017 with his partner Cal Bigari. The salon charges by the hour rather than by gender. Hairstylists are trained not only in hair cutting techniques, but also in communication and trauma-informative approaches to working with LGBTQ clients.
After Hendrix’s bite, Freda, a toy ass, a service dog, came to the door to greet customers. At the entrance, the sunflowers scattered rainbows on the ground. It felt like home.
::
Jesse Santiago, 39, co-owner of Salon Bender. She says she is humble and honored to be able to provide space for people who have never had a place before.
(Dania Maxwell / Los Angeles Times)

Kal Bigari, 35, is the co-founder and co-owner of the salon. “We have limited space in the world and here we can keep our weapons,” he said. “A large part of what we provide is freeing you from that sexual expression.”
(Dania Maxwell / Los Angeles Times)

Kinuyo Fijikawa, 41, says: “Hair sends people something about you before you interact. It’s a shared experience and connection. “
(Dania Maxwell / Los Angeles Times)
Hendrix came out as a transgender in his immediate family on his birthday in 2021 and started the transition this year.
“I was very excited and nervous about getting a haircut because it would be the first change that everyone else would notice,” Hendrix said.
“And that’s why we’re taking it slow,” said Liz Mader, her hairstylist. With a pair of electric clippers, Meador gave him an undercut; Quiet saloons and long ringlets echoed through the blankets on the floor below. Switching to scissors, she cut and shaped her afro, checking periodically to make sure Hendrix was right along the length.
When he was younger, Hendrix wanted to cut his hair short, but his parents disagreed. When he later tried to cut it himself, he was turned away by two salons. The stylists told her to go home and think.
“I shunned the fact that they didn’t listen to me,” Hendrix said. “[Like] They knew better than me what to do with my own hair. “
Then he stopped going to the salon.
But when he came out to his family, they were comforting and helpful – and finally understood why he wanted to keep his hair so short.
“And so I was like, ‘You know, I’m crazy about haircuts,'” Hendrix said.
Meador finished the cut by massaging her hair with a tonic on her head and applying curling cream to the strands, diligently shaping each curl with her fingers.
“I didn’t expect to invest so emotionally,” said Meader, who works at Salon Bender.
Before he left, Hendrix made his next appointment.
::

Amanda Black, 29, says working in a salon encourages herself to be. In other salons, she says, being the only bizarre employee forced her to hide pieces of herself and her experience. “Hair was my protective blanket and now it’s an extension of my expression. This is a strange sign, “she said.
(Dania Maxwell / Los Angeles Times)

The salon “feels safe and inclusive,” said Karina Rayo, manager of Salon Benders. For 34 years, “hair is strength and weakness.”
(Dania Maxwell / Los Angeles Times)

Rachel Fisbug, left, Dr. Casa works on Nisner’s hair. Niesner is a loyal client who flew from Nashville to the salon to have his hair done.
(Dania Maxwell / Los Angeles Times)
In the other corner of the salon, hair stylists in Casa Nisner leopard-print salon gowns bleached their strands.
Niesner got off a plane at LAX and headed straight to Long Beach for her hair appointment. They wanted to dye their short, black hair with a mixture of bright til and indigo-mermaid colors.
The 38-year-old medical resident has homes in Tennessee, Arizona and Nevada, travel frequently, but always return to a hair salon bender.
It’s a place where you feel safe around others, “Niesner said.
Nisner was born at an early age to a man named Intersex and Surgical. Although they spent most of their youth presenting themselves as men, they have always been known as women and that changed in 2016. As time went on, Nisner realized that they were non-binary.
They tried both salons and barber shops but were often mistaken for lingerie and gave them unwanted pixie cuts or under-shaves. The stylists made them uncomfortable and did not ask for consent before touching their hair – a lot of emphasis was placed on salon benders because of the trauma people face.
Niesner also enjoys the “quiet service” option that usually accompanies salon appointments without banner pressure.
“I haven’t cut my hair anywhere else,” he said. “How special this place is to me.”
::

In this photo, a person asking not to be identified said: “Hair … is what I see in my head and in the mirror.”
(Dania Maxwell / Los Angeles Times)

Finn became the manager after finding a real home as a customer at “Finn” Fry, 25 Salon Bender. “The ability for someone to style my hair well changes the way I feel about my penis. I’ve shaved my head a long way. It’s a team effort.”
(Dania Maxwell / Los Angeles Times)
For Salon Bender owners, cultivating this special place was also a “healing trip” for them.
Santiago has had her hair cut since she was 17, but she stopped being a hair stylist.
“It’s a very toxic industry overall,” Santiago said. “It’s particularly toxic and not very suited to weird people and people of color, which I think is both of those things.”
Before meeting Santiago, Bigari had never had a haircut that made him feel like himself. He had not learned what products to use on his short hair or what to do with his beard. Like Hendrix, when he came out and started his transition, he was not comfortable in the “ultrasculin environment” of the barber shop.
But Santiago helped her define her look in an environment where she felt safe, an experience the couple hopes to offer customers.
Salon benders say “people are excited about their bodies,” Santiago said.
Santiago also emphasizes creating a healthy work environment for its stylists after their own experiences with Burnout.
The five stylists they work with are paid per hour and commission, paid time and money for continuing education. This is unusual in the hair industry, and it is not a sustainable model, Santiago admits. He and Bigari both have other jobs and do not benefit from the salon.
Bigari serves as the school liaison for LGBTQ Center Long Beach, providing youth and family services and advocating for students. The salon often has booths at local outreach events, offering free scalp massages and raising money to offer discounted haircuts to needy clients.
::

Shelley Norflit, 27, cuts her hair and poses for a portrait. “Hair means a lot to people of mixed race. My hair is my identifier. It’s my identity,” he said.
(Dania Maxwell / Los Angeles Times)

Eddie Silva, 39, touches her hair after cutting and dyeing it. She says she likes to feel the air in her head.
(Dania Maxwell / Los Angeles Times)

“Every day we have these effects on people,” said Andrea Ariola, 31, a stylist at Salon Benders. “Hair is out of length, it’s out of trend. It’s the creative outlet that saved my life.”
(Dania Maxwell / Los Angeles Times)
After Hendrix stopped feeling like himself, some customers stayed up Thursday afternoon. One of them was Eddie Silva, who wanted a big change in his fourth appointment at Salon Benders.
She was looking at the purple, perhaps some pastel pink hair dye – the exact opposite of her normal black hair.
At the mixing station, Andrea Arriola-Pinto rotated light magentas, indigo and dark purple in four separate dishes, like a paint mixer.
Silva, 39, is bizarre and an veteran. Orange County residents had previously received a mullet – partly by accident – but Salon Bender’s stylists liked the way it was designed for her and have been stuck with the look ever since. Although this was her first color meeting.
“I want to cut it hair and not really think about it,” Silva said. “[But] If I have hair, I would like to use it.
She gave Ariola-Pinto some pictures for inspiration but otherwise let her take the reins, even though she is often sporadic.
After five hours of bleaching and dyeing, Silva’s mullet “literally looks like purple quartz,” the hairstylist Mider said as she walked.
“Or a rainbow crystal,” said Areola-Pinto. She gave Silva a granola bar, a much-needed lunch after a long-haired appointment.
“There’s no other salon that looks like this,” Silva said.

Rachel, 24, is a stylist at Fishbug Salon Benders. He said that it feels good to work somewhere so he accepted. “Being able to see how you feel is very important and even more important when you are bizarre,” they said.
(Dania Maxwell / Los Angeles Times)

Love White sells tinctures for all types of hair at the salon. “Hair is an authentic expression – to be true and real in itself,” she said.
(Dania Maxwell / Los Angeles Times)
Additional reporting by Dania Maxwell.