When anti-racism specialist Gloria Tabi removed her wig for the first time in 25 years, she wasn’t simply changing her look—she was dismantling decades of social conditioning. “It was liberating,” she told The Back Cover podcast.
“But also terrifying. I remember sitting in my car crying before walking into the shopping centre with my natural hair. That moment changed everything.”
That single act of authenticity would become the foundation for Enable Women Africa, the community-led initiative she founded to challenge systemic racism by empowering Black women to embrace their natural beauty. But what Gloria didn’t anticipate was the ripple effect her decision would have—not just on women’s confidence, but on the environment.

The Politics of Hair
In Australia and across the Western world, Black women face unspoken rules about what is considered “professional.” Gloria, who has worked in corporate and academic spaces, says the pressure to conform to Eurocentric standards is baked into the system.
“Research tells us 80% of Black women hide their hair to attend a job interview or to get promoted,” she says. “We aren’t wearing wigs for fashion. We do it for survival.”
A 2023 study by Dove’s CROWN Coalition supports this: Black women are 1.5 times more likely to be sent home from work because of their hair, and 66 er cent of Black children in majority-white schools have faced hair-related discrimination. While the U.S. has introduced anti-discrimination laws like the CROWN Act, Australia still lacks formal protections.
Plastic Hair, Real Waste
Beyond the social cost lies a disturbing environmental one. Wigs and synthetic hair extensions are largely made from non-biodegradable plastics like acrylic, polyester, and PVC. According to U.S. industry estimates, nearly 30 million pounds of synthetic hair are discarded annually—most of which ends up in landfill.
In the UK, Black women account for 10 per cent of total haircare expenses, despite making up just 2 per cent of the population. Globally, Black women spend an estimated $1.1 billion USD ($1.6 billion AUD) on synthetic hair products each year.
This staggering overrepresentation reveals how cultural pressures translate into economic burdens that disproportionately affect Black communities.
Gloria says discarded synthetic hair raises urgent questions: “Where are they going? Is anyone talking about that?” She adds, “It’s polluting the earth while polluting our sense of self.”
Synthetic hair is composed of plastic fibres such as polyvinyl chloride (PVC), polyester, acrylic, and Kanekalon. These materials are derived from petroleum through an energy-intensive process that emits large amounts of carbon. Once disposed of, synthetic hair can take hundreds of years to degrade, releasing microplastics and toxic additives into soil and waterways, where they threaten marine ecosystems and may even enter the human food chain.
According to a 2025 editorial by environmental scientist Kemi Oloyede, published in ACS ES&T Water, the breakdown of synthetic fibres releases hazardous chemicals including phthalates, dyes, and flame retardants, which can contaminate air, water, and soil. Microplastics from these fibres are increasingly being found in aquatic species—posing risks to biodiversity and potentially the human food chain.

The Economic Trap
Wearing wigs and weaves is not cheap. On average, Black women spend around USD $7,000 (approx. AUD $10,500) per year on hair care—the highest of any ethnic group. Yet, they are among the most marginalised economically.
It’s a painful reality: Black women are pressured to assimilate, then penalised financially and environmentally for it—a true economic double-bind.
Fast Fashion, Fast Hair
The rise of social media platforms like Instagram and TikTok has accelerated beauty trends, turning synthetic hair into a fast fashion commodity. According to Oloyede, this has driven overconsumption of synthetic products, often discarded after minimal use.
“Hairstyle trends now move as quickly as online filters,” Oloyede notes. “That creates a constant demand for new looks, fuelling an industry rooted in plastic waste.”
From Shame to Freedom
For Gloria, going natural wasn’t just a personal act—it was political. It laid the groundwork for her to compete in the Legacy International Pageant at 50 years old, wearing her natural, greying, coily hair on a global stage.
“It’s about showing younger generations that they don’t need to hide. That we belong in all spaces, just as we are,” she says.
Enable Women Africa has since become a growing movement of support and education. Gloria frequently receives messages from young girls and women—even preschoolers and grandmothers—sharing their decision to go natural because of her advocacy.
Reimagining Beauty and Sustainability
Gloria believes the natural hair movement has the power to challenge more than racism. It can also contribute to environmental justice.
Gloria believes that shifting beauty standards can reduce our reliance on synthetic hair—benefitting not just our self-worth, but also our finances and the environment.
Sustainable hair alternatives are beginning to emerge, though still limited in scale. In the UK, brands such as RadSwan and Tiwani Heritage have introduced biodegradable or plant-based extensions aimed at reducing plastic waste.
Meanwhile, global initiatives like Matter of Trust are experimenting with repurposing human and synthetic hair into oil-absorbing mats. Environmental groups like the Green Salon Collective are also encouraging hair salons to recycle hair waste, with some introducing a “Green Fee” to support these efforts.
But Gloria is clear: systemic change won’t come from consumers alone. She believes governments must introduce policies—like Extended Producer Responsibility (EPR)—to hold hair manufacturers accountable for their environmental impact.
“Nothing would change by us hiding,” she says. For Gloria, removing the wig is more than a personal act—it’s a statement of visibility, cultural pride, and environmental consciousness.