The DevaCurl Lawsuit
Why It’s Not Just About Hair
By Kinga Mozes
I’m twelve years old and about to go ice-skating with a cute guy I’ve had a crush on for weeks. Squirming in a spinning chair, the smell of burnt hair wafts through the room as my friend straightens my hair behind me. The fading curls are hot on the back of my neck, and my scalp hurts from having my hair pulled for two hours on end.
My friends had convinced me that flattening my curls would make me more beautiful. It stings when one of them rushes to the window holding her nose and opens it, the cold air hitting my face.
Unless you naturally happen to have stick-straight blonde hair, I’m sure you have had some sort of experience like this where you feel like you have to press perceived messiness into something that’s “sleek” and“socially acceptable.”
This is why when DevaCurl hair product users started to experience hair loss, breakage, dandruff, burns, and balding, it felt like another push for the curly-hair community to feel ashamed. These products have been on the market since 1994, but in February social media exploded with users’ complaints. The issue has led to the formation of a Facebook support group that currently includes 55,254 people. Although all of these people may not have personally been harmed by the products, there are thousands of posts on a variety of platforms with photos of people with chunks of hair missing and throbbing pink welts on their scalps.
The natural next step for Devacurl should’ve been to apologize, remove their current products, and refund those affected. None of these actions were taken. Instead, DevaCurl responded with, “All of our products have gone through rigorous testing ... they are safe and adhere to ... regulatory standards ... any changes to curly hair for whatever reason demand a special type of attention that safety tests alone can’t address.” They declined an interview with NPR to explain themselves. Essentially, they told a distraught, self-conscious audience that it was their own fault, and their only step to address it was to establish a ‘“Professional Curl Care Council’ with medical professionals to help us all better understand healthy curls and scalp.”
A group of consumers decided to take matters into their own hands and file a lawsuit against the multi-million dollar company. DevaCurl refused to recall their products because it would cost them millions, and the lack of consideration shown by the company is insensitive. Besides the lawsuit, former DevaCurl stylists and influencers have made Youtube videos admonishing the company with their own hair damage to show for it. Two women stood out due to the immensity of their platforms: Stephanie Mero and Ayesha Malik.
Malik is a Youtuber and beauty influencer with 227K subscribers and countless instagram followers. Malik's influence stretches internationally, and it took her months to work up the courage to speak out about a product she had sworn by for six years. The last straw was when DevaCurl recently started sending her wavy hair products instead of curly hair products in response to her changing hair texture. Through tears she admits it was salt in the wounds.
Mero has been dubbed the “Curl Ninja” by her 24.4K subscribers due to her advocacy about the cause. Mero was even more involved in the DevaCurl community, working as a stylist and ambassador for the company for years. She started to notice something was up when her dyed-blonde hair turned purple, but she attributed the color change to the heat in Miami. The dryness increased with her confusion;responses on the internet told her it was her use of the product or over-moisturization that had caused the damage.
But it wasn’t just her. Several of her clients went through the same ordeal, and she ended up having to email 700 people to warn them of the potential damage. Her “salon became the DevaCurl recovery room,” and the financial and emotional strain took its toll. She ended up cutting off all of her hair to regrow it and is in the process of helping her clients do the same.
Although the actual science behind why DevaCurl’s products caused so much damage has not been thoroughly investigated, the theories range from improper storage, packaging changes, to the addition of toxic chemicals. Some of these chemicals, such as alkaline, can cause permanent hair loss and cancer after prolonged exposure, yet somehow the FDA has not deemed these facts important enough to prevent the production and sale of the products. Even if the FDA pursues action, the embarrassment people have been subjected to cannot be smoothed over.
Although on the surface, this just seems like a corporate company problem with scamming people for their money, it runs deeper. No matter who you are, your hair is a means to express your identity; it’s supposed to be an aspect of your appearance that you have power over. Susan Oludele, a hair artist from New York who styles Beyonce says it best: “Hair is how you talk to someone without even speaking to them.” We can dye it, cut it, shave it—it evolves with our moods and our life. It can express age as it grays or gender fluidity or even one’s socioeconomic status.
It’s important to all of us, but it’s especially important to the black community given that black women spend nine times more than any other group on their hair. This has historical roots, too, in which before emancipation, hair wraps were used as a sign of oppression to make slaves seem less attractive. Today, from the wrestling arena to the corporate world, there’s pressure for black people to alter their hair from its natural state to align with Eurocentric beauty standards. The 11th circuit court of appeals recently ruled that banning employees for wearing their hair in “locs” does not qualify as racial discrimination.
Although I have had negative hair experiences, there is certain discrimination that I can not claim to understand as a white female. There are undercurrents of white privilege that allow companies like DevaCurl to keep their products on the shelf considering who buys the products. The FDA’s neglect is indicative of the larger societal neglect of people of color. If this product was marketed towards a white audience, there most likely would have been a bigger uproar and an apology issued by the company at fault.
If this problem still seems to you like it’s just about hair, I urge you to listen to Solange’s song “Don’t Touch My Hair.” Her angelic voice sings, “Don’t touch my hair / these are the feelings I wear.” Every human being, regardless of hair texture or race, deserves to feel beautiful and respected, and DevaCurl’s lack of acknowledgment of this is a statement of indifference.