
Can a Haircut Shift Your Energy?
Our editor has built a quiet reputation for exploring alternative therapies, and Trichothérapy remains one of the most transformative. Originally reported for ELLE magazine, she revisits the experience here for Grounded.
Leaving the hairdresser with a cut you actively dislike is usually reason enough never to return — particularly when it comes with a £250 price tag. Tears are an even clearer sign. And yet, despite all of this, one haircut I had a few years ago remains among the most unexpectedly revealing experiences of my life.
Our emotional relationship with hair is hardly new. From Coco Chanel’s oft-quoted line, “a woman who cuts her hair is about to change her life,” to the reassuring premise behind Anya Hindmarch’s book If In Doubt, Wash Your Hair, we instinctively understand that hair is rarely just hair. Trichothérapy, sometimes referred to as an “energy haircut”, takes that idea one step further.
Developed by Jill Andrieu, a former L’Oréal professional and Wella ambassador, Trichothérapy approaches hair cutting through a holistic lens. The 90-minute, three-step treatment prioritises hair health and vitality, with an emphasis on release rather than transformation. Notably, no products are used. Instead, the process relies on water, touch, and a combination of tools — including a razor and a small Japanese blade known as a Tantō — to remove only the tiniest amounts of hair at a time.
While the intention is to improve the condition of the hair, Andrieu describes the treatment as something more inward-facing. “It’s a real meeting with yourself that goes beyond the hair,” she says. That sentiment is echoed by Sabrina Picot, a senior stylist at HARI’s salon in London and one of a few hundred practitioners trained in the method. Hair, she explains, can be read almost like a record: as it grows, it reflects what we consume and absorb, holding onto traces of our internal environment in a way the rest of the body eventually sheds.

The session begins with a head massage, though it bears little resemblance to a typical shampoo, rinse and repeat ritual. Instead, it draws on principles from craniosacral therapy, a hands-on practice intended to support the nervous system, stimulating the back of the head and the pineal gland (also referred to as the ‘third eye’). As pressure is applied to the back of the head, I found myself unexpectedly still, unable to speak or move. Having previously explored other alternative therapies — Mayan medicine sessions, Reiki, 5-element accupunctive, the list goes on — I wasn’t alarmed, but I was surprised by how immediate the response was.
As the cutting begins, the Tantō is used in swift upward movements designed to avoid compressing the hair shaft. According to Picot, this method is intended to stimulate rather than blunt the hair. Unlike a conventional trim, each cut is distinctly felt from the scalp, and not all strands release easily. That resistance, I was told, can be revealing.
In my case, it was concentrated at the front right side of the head. Within the Trichothérapy framework, different areas are thought to correspond with different emotional themes — “the right side is all related to your masculine energy, while the left side is related to the feminine energy,” Picot tells me. A single tear rolled down my cheek, and my body still motionless, I was unable to wipe it away. “We keep all of the memories we don’t know we have stress from at the back of the head, while the front holds things that you are already aware of but haven’t let go of,” she adds.
Trichothérapy isn’t positioned as a cure or a replacement for conventional therapy, but rather as a complementary tool — one that shows you healing still needs to be done. By the end of the session, something had shifted. My hair felt lighter, yes, but so did everything else. Later, once I’d washed and styled it with a brush rather than a blade, it also appeared healthier — stronger, shinier, more responsive.
Whether you frame the experience as energetic, emotional or simply deeply sensory, it’s hard to deny that hair carries weight — both literal and symbolic. Sometimes, it seems, letting go of even the smallest amount can make room for something else entirely.
This feature was originally published in Elle Magazine and can be viewed here.

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