SAEDNEWS: Hair, once a symbol of power, beauty, or devotion, is now a global commodity—traded as wigs, extensions, even fertilizer and art. From the temples of India to factories in China, what was once a gift or sign of faith has become a lucrative and fascinating industry.
According to the Science and Technology Service of SaedNews, we all enter the world either bald or with very little hair. As children, we resist washing, combing, or trimming it, but as we grow, most of us develop a personal attachment to our hair. Hair is deeply individual—everyone’s hair is unique. We affectionately stroke the fur of dogs and cats, wear clothing made from sheep’s wool or rabbit fur, yet seeing someone else’s hair on our clothes, in the bathroom, or—God forbid—in our food can unsettle us.
Hair evokes complex emotions. Healthy hair symbolizes strength, youth, and vitality. Forcibly cutting or shaving someone’s hair can be experienced as a form of violation. Hair is also a subject of folklore, fantasy, and fetish. In the story of Rapunzel, she lowers her hair to escape from a tower; in biblical tales, Delilah cuts Samson’s hair to strip him of his power.
Hair is undeniably embedded in our cultures, traditions, and histories. Yet few can speak about its hidden journey in today’s world. Emma Tarlo, a British anthropologist, spent three years tracing human hair through a multi-billion-dollar global industry—one that produces wigs, hair extensions, fertilizers, cosmetics, pet food, and even artworks. In her book Entangled, she recounts a narrative that is at times unsettling, at times disturbing, yet consistently fascinating.
The trade in human hair has a long history. In the 19th century, rural Europeans sold their own hair—or that of their children—at markets to supplement their income. In French auctions, girls were placed on platforms, and once the highest bid was offered for their long hair, it was immediately cut. In Britain, itinerant traders persuaded young girls at village fairs to sell their hair in exchange for jewelry. These hairs were then transformed into wigs and sold to wealthy buyers in Paris, London, and New York. Today, hair is still largely sourced from poorer populations and sold to wealthier consumers—but now the center of this trade has shifted from West to East.
Currently, the most valuable hair comes from Hindu temples in southern India, where men, women, and children shave their heads as an act of faith. These “temple hairs” are carefully sorted by hand and sold to fund social and welfare projects, generating annual revenue of up to £20 million per temple.
Much of the hair sourced from India, Myanmar, and Bangladesh is sent to large factories in China. There, the hair is bleached or dyed—from blonde to brown—curled, twisted, or straightened, and then transformed into wigs or packaged as hair extensions in countless variations. China is the largest exporter of both human and synthetic wigs and extensions. One Chinese city, Xuchang, has so many hair-processing factories that it is known as “Hair City.”
Most wigs and hair products are exported to the U.S., Europe, and Africa. A curly blonde wig sold in London or New York may have started as straight black hair cut in India. The demand is so high that, in addition to purchased hair, shed hair collected during combing in South and Southeast Asia is also used. In Myanmar, Bangladesh, and India, itinerant collectors go door-to-door by bicycle or boat, gathering shed hair into bundles. Rural workers, earning just $1 a day, meticulously untangle, sort by length, and package it. A single wig may be made from the hair of hundreds of people.
Tarlo traveled the world to meet pilgrims, hairdressers, villagers, factory workers, entrepreneurs, traders, and customers involved in turning human hair into a massive global business. In this lucrative, largely unregulated industry, exploitation, corruption, and fraud are common. Hair sold as “Russian blonde” may actually be bleached Indian hair packaged in China. Products labeled “100% human hair” often contain animal or synthetic fibers. Cultural clashes also arise: when the U.S. banned imports of “Communist hair” from China in 1966, production shifted to Hong Kong; in 2004, a prominent rabbi in Jerusalem declared Indian temple hair forbidden, bankrupting many New York wig suppliers.
Though this industry may seem unsettling or ethically murky, Tarlo refrains from moral judgment. She approaches the subject with cultural sensitivity and scientific curiosity, interviewing Orthodox Jewish women in Golders Green who spend vast sums on wigs (sheitels) made from others’ hair, as well as women who lost their hair to cancer or alopecia. She visits hair exhibitions in the U.S. and salons in Senegal, exploring the debates among Black women who, despite natural-hair advocacy, spend large amounts straightening, weaving, and extending their hair.
Tarlo’s exploration of human hair provides a unique lens on global culture, commerce, and the intimate significance of hair in our lives—a fascinating journey from personal attachment to multi-billion-dollar industry.
