When Representative Debbie Wasserman Schultz was in her mid-20s and gearing up to run for the Florida State House, she turned to older women in politics for advice — and their message was uniform: “You’re going to have to get a haircut… you’ve got to just have more manageable hair – a more professional look.” That pressure, she says, stayed with her throughout her political career — not merely in terms of looking good as part of your performance pitch but being treated as a measure of competency.
Wasserman Schultz, 59, who previously led the Democratic National Committee, says she straightened her own naturally curly locks into a more manageable form in the beginning — but drew the line at flat ironing her hair. It wasn’t just simply a matter of style. It was about identity. (When she straightened her hair briefly in the early 2000s while she was serving in Congress, teammates would stop her in the halls of the Capitol.) “People went berserk,” she said. “They thought I looked so different, but also they said, ‘Wow, you should wear your hair that way all the time.’ You look amazing.’ ” The suggestion: Her natural curls were unattractive or unprofessional.
The backlash she has encountered is merely one example of a broader trend. In 2012, she was “Frizzilla” to a Fox News host; her hair has been described throughout the media as everything from “ramen noodle-like” in texture to “usually out of control.” These weren’t isolated comments. Research supports the bias encountered. In 2023, a study by Lindenwood University found that women with straight hair were rated significantly higher on professionalism-related traits than women with curly hair. A separate 2021 study found that Black women with natural hairstyles were more than three times as likely to be perceived as less professional or not hired for a job than their counterparts with straightened hair.
Wasserman Schultz concedes that, while the context of her encounter was not racialized as in those studies, there was still a real sense of pressure. Advisers told her to lose the “frizz,” appear more buttoned-up, and avoid ponytails, curls, or braids that could detract from her message. She now reframes it this way: for her, wearing the hair God gave her is a part of who she is, and an expression of both her Jewish heritage and personal integrity. Now she speaks at Jewish community organizations like Hillel and B’Nai B’Rith, explaining how her curls became a public signpost. “I would never ever ever change my hair now,” she said. It’s not the most important thing, but how you look — especially growing up, and getting teased about it — it definitely matters.”
Her tale is also a reminder that appearance still matters a great deal in both politics and professional life, long after society pretends it should or could matter less. In the midst of widespread attention to race, gender, and age bias, appearance bias has emerged as one of the more subtle forces shaping perception. For someone with no official disability or demographic barrier but a conspicuous difference, the subliminal messages were apparent: If you don’t fit in, conform to avoid feeling “other.”
For young women and other professionals who are mapping out their careers, the takeaway should focus on two things. First, identity does matter — whether it’s hair, clothes, name, accent, or background — and it’s right to question when that identity is asked to change in the name of “professionalism.” Second, visibility can matter. When it comes to calling for authenticity from public figures, what exactly is the standard for professionalism in a diverse workplace? And much of what might have once been red as “unprofessional” now reads simply as “different.”
Debbie Wasserman Schultz’s tale is about more than hair. It is about how personal identity can become a professional ground. And how making the decision to be outwardly yourself — despite what criticism might come, for anything from your hair to any other gesture of difference and self-possession — may matter more than any hairstyle ever could.
