������Ƶ

Mia remembered touring one of the Paul Mitchell campuses, a widely known U.S. cosmetology school franchise, where she would eventually enroll. She was struck by the slick, contemporary facilities, resplendent with bulky mirrors and mammoth portraits of models. Representatives from the school pitched her a vision familiar to many cosmetology prospects: After finishing their flexible program taught by industry experts, Mia would have creative freedom, financial security, and a steady demand for her services.¹

Promises like these appeal to many cosmetology students, who often come from low-income and historically marginalized populations. Mia said she thought that cosmetology chains, and Paul Mitchell particularly, would offer the type of well put together education she needed.

“The idea is that the education is so high-end, compared to other cosmetology schools,” Mia told ������Ƶ.

But like a trick of the mirror, cosmetology schools’ promises often reflect something better than reality.

In interviews and focus groups that ������Ƶ convened, current and former cosmetology students, who were or had trained to become hair stylists and colorists, complained their schools were understaffed and that instructors were so crushingly busy that they had to rely on each other to learn basic skills.²

This is just one strand of the inadequate, out-of-date training that cosmetology schools often peddle, especially at prominent chains. These problems appear to be systemic throughout the $2.2 billion for-profit cosmetology and beauty school industry in the United States, regardless of the promises that recruiters make to lure students to their campuses.

For example, despite assurances of financial security for students down the road, the training these schools provide often leads to jobs that pay less than what someone with only a high school diploma would earn. In 2023, the U.S. Department of Education revised consumer protection regulations called gainful employment—requiring career college programs to prove their graduates could secure jobs with salaries sufficient to pay off student loans and outpace the earnings of high school graduates in their state. During this process, it was revealed that more than 40 percent of the programs projected to fail these benchmarks are in cosmetology and related personal grooming services, by far the largest share, according to the Education Department.³ The next highest group, allied health and medical assisting programs, accounted for just 12 percent of failures.

And while industry officials claim their schools are well-run and dedicated to students’ success, Education Department data show otherwise. Cosmetology schools are heavily represented on the department’s list of schools under heightened cash monitoring, a sanction imposed for issues such as financial mismanagement or failure to meet accreditor standards, which could include hiring unqualified faculty or administrators or offering poorly structured programs.⁴ Under heightened cash monitoring, schools are subject to increased oversight and, in the most severe cases, must front the costs of student financial aid before being reimbursed, a departure from the usual practice of being able to draw directly from federal funds. As of December, at least 83 U.S. cosmetology schools were on heightened cash monitoring,⁵ representing about 20 percent of all U.S. institutions the Education Department flagged, according to ������Ƶ’s analysis.

In the worst cases, cosmetology schools have come under heat—and been the subject of lawsuits—for defrauding students. In Iowa, the state attorney general in 2014 sued La’ James International College, a multi-campus beauty school (and one of the institutions currently on heightened cash monitoring). The lawsuit accused the school of deceiving students into enrolling.⁶

“What many students experience is a school with extraordinary turnover of instructors, resulting in ‘instructorless’ classrooms and inconsistent instruction, lack of access to practice their skills, and ultimately, an institution that treats them more like free labor than students,” the attorney general’s lawsuit alleged.⁷ La’ James settled the case in 2016, forgiving $2.1 million of student debt and paying the state $550,000.⁸ La’ James remains in operation.

That same year, the federal Education Department punished another cosmetology chain, the Marinello Schools of Beauty, after discovering the school engaged in a scheme to maximize its federal student aid revenue.⁹ Marinello helped students who were ineligible for aid obtain it by directing them to unaccredited private high schools where they were given fake diplomas, they then used these fraudulent diplomas to apply for financial aid. Marinello shut down after the Education Department took action.

Evidence suggests that the industry as a whole has focused on maximizing the amount of financial aid that its schools receive, in part by working to extend students’ time enrolled far longer than is needed. To qualify for a cosmetology license, students must finish extensive in-person training, which schools insist is crucial for mastering health and sanitation practices. But while protecting client safety is essential, cosmetology licensure demands are more compared to other professions.

When states attempt to ease licensure hours, cosmetology schools jump in to protect their interests. Such has been the case in states like Texas, Iowa, California, Florida, Oklahoma, and Virginia, all which tried to ease the path to licensure.¹⁰ A report published by the Bureau of Labor Statistics found that strong lobbying by professional associations has largely succeeded in derailing state efforts.¹¹

Beauty school representatives also sit on many state licensure boards and other bodies that regulate cosmetology. Separately, some schools have tried to quash efforts by community colleges in various states to develop shorter, more affordable beauty school programs.

In short, cosmetology schools often don’t fulfill the promise of higher education: ensuring students earn a quality credential, which leads to sufficient employment and wages and potentially boosts them up the social mobility ladder.

Institutions that fail to deliver on this promise should face the chop of federal financial aid and shut down, and they could, under federal regulations like gainful employment. However, the American Association of Cosmetology Schools sued over the regulation in 2023, arguing it would jeopardize the “very existence” of many of its members.¹² The American Association of Cosmetology Schools (AACS) had filed a similar lawsuit against an earlier version of the rule that the Obama administration proposed. Then, when the Trump administration took power, Education Secretary Betsy DeVos “seized on AACS’s lawsuit, using it as a partial justification to continue the process of wiping out Obama’s gainful employment regulations,” BuzzFeed News reported at the time.¹³

Policymakers can avoid repeating history. For too long, the cosmetology industry had dodged accountability in the federal financial aid system. Republicans sitting atop the federal government can fulfill their promise to be stewards of public money by ensuring taxpayer dollars don’t flow to beauty schools that produce abysmal results. They have already expressed interest in promoting accountability for all college programs.¹⁴

Cosmetology students, many of whom are women, Latino, or Black, deserve better.¹⁵

They deserve an educational framework that aligns with their aspirations and equips them for meaningful, well-paying work. To brush away predatory practices, policymakers must enact reforms that put student welfare and taxpayers’ interests at the forefront, curb schools’ outsized influence, and demand accountability. Only then can cosmetology truly be a force for social mobility and creative empowerment, not a trap that drains students’ potential.

In the 1920s, a new profession was born to help women emulate the style of the actresses they saw on the silver screen¹—such as the “it” girl, Clara Bow, with her modern short and curly haircut and “bow lip.” The growth and popularity of cinema in the Roaring Twenties led to the emergence of cosmetology as an industry where budding professionals learned in small groups at shops to recreate different hair styles and help women apply lipstick to create “bow lips” of their own.²

The burgeoning industry surrounding cosmetology established the precursor of the American Association of Cosmetology Schools.³ The industry association was one of the first higher education lobbying groups, coming into existence around the same time as the “umbrella” organization of the higher education lobby—the American Council on Education (founded in 1918). It also predates the powerful for-profit college lobby—Career Education Colleges and Universities (founded in 1991).

After World War II, students began flooding into higher education and needed ways to access and pay for college. Thus, lawmakers passed two consequential bills that opened the door to federal subsidy of higher education: the GI Bill and the Higher Education Act.

These new sources of federal aid, including student grants and loans, improved access to community colleges and four-year universities. But other types of programs, such as for-profit colleges and vocational postsecondary schools, also benefited. A seismic shift happened with the reauthorization of the Higher Education Act in 1972 when sub-baccalaureate training programs, like the ones at cosmetology schools, became eligible for the Basic Educational Opportunity Grant, which is now known as the Pell Grant.⁴

While the intention to expand postsecondary opportunities was laudable, once the federal subsidy was offered, for-profit providers swooped in to capitalize, leaving a trail of waste, fraud, and abuse.⁵ Before this moment, for-profit cosmetology schools needed to price themselves in a way where students could afford to attend. If they didn’t, the schools would risk closure. Suddenly, they had a new pot of money—federal financial aid and GI benefits—they could not only use to subsidize the cost of the education and lower any financial friction students were facing but also to increase prices and capture more profit.

As early as 1971, bankers who serviced the federal student loan program raised alarm bells about borrowers at for-profit cosmetology schools. During a hearing on reauthorizing the Higher Education Act, a loan servicer said that the largest increases in loans had been among “trade schools and so-called beauty or barber schools.” He noted that while cosmetology schools made up only a small, but growing, volume of the loan portfolio, they generated a significant portion of loan defaults. “Who is benefitting from these programs?” he asked. “Are the students benefitting, or are the school operators benefitting?”⁶

The sudden, rapid growth of sub-baccalaureate cosmetology programs newly eligible for federal aid came under increasing scrutiny. The predecessor of the U.S. Department of Education—the Department of Health, Education, and Welfare—began investigating cosmetology schools in the late 1970s. In a 1978 Washington Post article showing how the availability of federal student aid was fueling the growth of beauty school programs with poor outcomes, the department’s deputy commissioner said investigations and regulations were needed “to prevent rip offs.”⁷

One of the schools featured in that Washington Post article was Empire Beauty School, which started with three campuses in Pennsylvania in the 1930s.⁸ By 1973, Empire had grown to 17 campuses in the Keystone State. Around that time, the school’s enrollments started shrinking fast, and the chain was on the brink of closure.⁹ But in the 1973–74 academic year, a new source of funding became available to colleges: federal financial aid in the form of the Pell Grant. Having access to federal grants that were targeted at low-income students allowed Empire to heavily recruit students who otherwise wouldn’t be able to afford their programs. “Many of our schools would not be in existence today without grants,” an Empire executive acknowledged to the Post.¹⁰ With the help of federal aid, Empire Beauty not only survived but expanded far beyond Pennsylvania.

The cosmetology lobby helped Empire Beauty build its early empire. In the decades since cosmetology schools became eligible for federal financial aid, they have continued to fight against measures that would provide any oversight and accountability, while working to line their pockets with more taxpayer dollars. In the 1990s, the American Association of Cosmetology Schools (AACS) pushed Congress to expand eligibility for Pell Grants, including increasing the amount of money in each award, so more cosmetology students could access them for even higher tuition.¹

A 1993 Education Department Office of Inspector General, or OIG, report found an alarming level of wasted taxpayer dollars on cosmetology programs. Despite the money being poured into these programs, the OIG found, students consistently struggled to succeed.² For instance, one beauty school the OIG highlighted received over $2.8 million in federal financial aid, over a period of 3.5 years, for about 650 students.³ Only 19 of those students went on to receive their state cosmetology licenses—at a cost to taxpayers of almost $148,000 per license. The OIG suggested that to prevent waste, fraud, and abuse of taxpayer dollars, there should be minimal performance standards for vocational trade schools, such as requirements for licensing exam passage and job placement.⁴

The report asserted that the increased availability of federal financial aid had led to a significant expansion of cosmetology schools, regardless of whether there was any market need for cosmetologists where the institutions were located. Often, the OIG noted, the supply of cosmetologists leaving the schools routinely exceeded demand. In 1990, for example, 96,000 cosmetologists were trained nationwide, adding to a labor market already supplied with 1.8 million licensed cosmetologists. Of the approximately 1.9 million cosmetologists in the labor market at that time including recent graduates, the Bureau of Labor Statistics found that only 597,000 were employed as cosmetologists because the market was completely oversaturated. Yet the OIG estimated the federal government continued to spend $725 million in federal financial aid funds annually to cosmetology students at for-profit schools.⁵

Though the schools were plagued with problems related to student outcomes, AACS kept pushing against oversight and for more money. The lobbying group urged the U.S. Department of Education, in the 1990s, to rescind “cohort default rates,” the only outcomes-based accountability measure established by the Higher Education Act that protects students and taxpayers.⁶ The Education Department measures the rates of student loan defaults for every college that participates in the federal student aid programs. Congress requires that schools with large numbers of former students consistently failing to repay their debt be deemed ineligible to participate in the federal student aid programs. In the 1990s, more than 1,000 for-profit colleges lost eligibility for federal aid due to their high cohort default rates.⁷

AACS, like the broader for-profit college lobby, argued that beauty schools weren’t at fault for high default rates. They couldn’t help it if their students, who came largely from low-income and marginalized backgrounds, weren’t able or willing to make federal loan payments. Seeking to pin responsibility on the borrowers, an AACS representative testified at a 1997 House of Representatives subcommittee hearing that “the sad part is that everyone who takes the time to fully understand the issues involved realizes that the primary factor in determining a student’s predisposition to default are the demographics of the students when they enroll in the school, not the educational quality of the school itself.”⁸

As a result of industry influence, the 1998 reauthorization of the Higher Education Act weakened the cohort default rate to the point that it was no longer an effective accountability tool.⁹ The result was predictable: On paper, default rates looked lower because of the short, two-year measurement window that associations like AACS lobbied for. As it turned out, institutions encouraged students to pursue forbearances and deferments when their loans entered the repayment period, but many students went on to default once they exhausted their deferments and forbearances.¹⁰

The cosmetology school industry continued to strike at consumer protections for years. The for-profit industry, including cosmetology schools, worked to weaken and even eliminate several other consumer protections during the late 1990s and early 2000s, leading to explosive growth in enrollments in for-profit and career-oriented programs.¹¹

After rapid growth of the for-profit sector, the Obama administration in 2009 attempted the first iteration of the gainful employment rule, which would help the Education Department clamp down on institutions with extremely poor outcomes. Gainful employment rules were finalized in 2014, at which point AACS sued to block them from taking effect, arguing that the rule was unfair to their schools, since “graduates disproportionately underreport their income due to high levels of cash-based and self-employment-based earnings, including tips.”¹² A federal judge found merit in the idea that schools should be able to appeal more easily. But by that point, the Trump administration had begun, and Education Secretary Betsy DeVos used AACS’s lawsuit as part of her pretext for rescinding the previous administration’s regulations in 2019.¹³

Before the rescission of the regulations when defending against the cosmetology association’s lawsuit, the Education Department, under the Trump administration, wrote in a court brief that the cosmetology association provided “no evidence of unreported income being an actual—much less widespread—practice among cosmetology program graduates.”¹⁴ Research led by the economist Stephanie Cellini confirms that tax evasion in the cosmetology sector due to unreported tips is minimal, accounting for only about 8 percent more in earnings, and is insufficient to explain the poor performance of many cosmetology programs in comparison to high school.¹⁵ Even a cosmetology industry-funded survey found that nearly 90 percent of salons report tips on W-2 forms, ensuring they would appear in federal tax data.¹⁶

In 2021, the Education Department, under the Biden administration, revisited gainful employment regulations, adding a minimum earnings requirement. Graduates from career-oriented programs would need to make, on average within their state, at least $1 more than if they had received only their high school diploma and no other education.

With such a large share of cosmetology programs expected to fail, AACS and cosmetology schools didn’t waste any time before filing lawsuits to stop the rule from being implemented. In court filings, they argued again that the industry’s reliance on cash payments and tips can result in underreported earnings to the IRS, disadvantaging cosmetology schools when it comes to passing the gainful employment rule’s earnings test.¹⁷ That litigation is still pending.

Separately, the cosmetology lobby already won a battle on a May 2023 effort by the Education Department to require programs to align their required education hours with state licensing standards in order to be eligible for federal aid.¹⁸ The Biden administration aimed to change Education Department regulations that permit these programs to exceed state requirements by up to 50 percent. For example, if a state has a 1,500-hour requirement for a cosmetology license, a school can set its program length up to 2,250 hours. In justifying the rule change, the Education Department highlighted the fact that institutions like cosmetology schools often offered programs that went well beyond state licensing requirements, which meant that students could burn unnecessarily through their limited eligibility for Pell Grants while accruing federal student loans.

Just like with gainful employment, the beauty industry, along with other for-profit schools, sued the Education Department.¹⁹ The judge granted a preliminary injunction, saying the department’s new provision “represents a sea change from 30 years of established practice,” which would result in irreparable harm to institutions.²⁰ The newly finalized rule is paused due to an injunction so institutions can continue offering programs that go well beyond state requirements.²¹

The cosmetology industry has not only teased out its influence in Washington, DC, but also in state capitals. Its primary goal has been to lock in state licensure and curriculum requirements that keep students in prolonged programs, allowing schools to continue siphoning off students’ out-of-pocket tuition and financial aid.

Many states layer on high numbers of licensure hours in cosmetology programs. No public documentation exists explaining the rationale for these requirements, “perhaps because many of these assignments were made several decades ago and have not changed since initial development,” according to an American Institutes for Research report.¹

But the industry has aggressively fought state efforts to pare back requisite licensure hours. In one particularly fierce policy battle in Iowa several years ago, state lawmakers sought to pull back on one of the steepest licensing requirements in the nation, at 2,100 hours. A New York Times investigation revealed intense lobbying efforts within the state. The Iowa Cosmetology School Association, for example, set up a political action committee that sent money to state candidates who fought legislation that would reduce licensure hours.² Despite the industry’s pressures, state officials ultimately passed a law in 2023 bringing the number of required hours down to 1,550, in line with the national average.

Research has found no correlation between time spent in school and improved rates of licensure, graduation rates, or wages.³ Simply put, a higher hourly licensing requirement (and thus more time spent in school) doesn’t seem to lift student outcomes.

Meanwhile, these trainings can surpass those of professions with far greater public safety responsibilities. For example, in Iowa, emergency technicians, dental assistants, pharmacy technicians, school bus drivers, pesticide applicators, unarmed security guards, and most types of building contractors need less training than barbers and cosmetologists.⁴ The Institute for Justice, an organization that lobbies states for reduced licensing hours, reached this conclusion when it published an investigation on hair braiding in 2016.⁵ Though hair braiding doesn’t involve heating, coloring, or using chemicals on customers, states still required licensure training of as much as 2,100 hours at the time the Institute published its report. It found that “health and safety concerns are extremely rare—so rare that a taxpayer is over 2.5 times more likely to be audited by the IRS as a licensed or registered braider is to have any complaint filed against them, let alone a complaint in which health or safety issues are implicated.”⁶

Cosmetology school associations don’t just push back against licensure changes—they’ll fight against other threats to their carefully polished profit margins. The same Iowa association that lobbied against lowering licensing requirements also successfully sued to prevent a state community college from offering a more affordable cosmetology program, arguing that state code prohibits public entities from competing with private ones.⁷ Such a campaign is not unusual—for-profit cosmetology schools and their associations have long tried to quash more affordable programming at community colleges. The American Association of Cosmetology Schools even helps to advocate for the beauty school industry to prevent more affordable cosmetology programs in community colleges, the IBISWorld industry research report notes.⁸

Also in Iowa, state legislators introduced a bill in 2024 that would have permitted cosmetology students to finish practical training completely outside of a traditional school.⁹ Under an apprenticeship model, students would work with a salon or barbershop that would register with the state, where they would train for licensure under the mentorship of a licensed professional. But the Iowa Cosmetology School Association brought in three lobbyists to help defeat the bill, which then stalled out during the legislative session.¹⁰

At the same time that beauty schools push to keep licensure hours sky-high and to maintain their hold as the dominant education model, their representatives sit on licensure boards that have jurisdiction over cosmetology education.

In New York, officials from beauty schools serve on the state’s Appearance Enhancement Advisory Committee, which counsels on licensing standards, training requirements, and other regulatory aspects of cosmetology and aesthetics.¹¹ It also approved the core cosmetology curricula for the state.¹² Though this dynamic may seem benign at first glance, it raises concerns about whether board members with ties to cosmetology schools can impartially advocate for policies that prioritize students’ best interests. In fact, in Iowa, a high-ranking official from La’ James International College holds a seat on the state’s Board of Barbering and Cosmetology Arts and Sciences.¹³ La’ James has faced a series of allegations and lawsuits alleging that the school chain issued worthless credentials and burdened students with low-paying jobs and significant debt. According to the New York Times investigation, La’ James’s president, Cynthia Becher, has reportedly emphasized to her employees that “this is a business first, and a school second.”¹⁴

Iowa officials cannot trust La’ James with the protection of cosmetology students and clients in the state, as the school has demonstrated time and again it will protect its own interests over student welfare in policy decisions.

The consequences of entrenched industry practices are not abstract. They directly shape the livelihoods and futures of students. The toll of these systemic failings becomes clear in the experiences of students like Mia, whose path through Paul Mitchell lays bare the gap between institutions’ promises of an adaptable, quality program and the truth.

It was early 2019 when Mia enrolled in the Dallas branch of Paul Mitchell. She took out $17,000 in loans for a $20,000 tuition bill and paid an additional $1,700 for a kit the school mandated, which contained supplies like shears, a hair straightener, and towels.¹ Many items in the kit can be purchased cheaply, but cosmetology schools like Paul Mitchell often force students to buy their own products as yet another money maker.

Mia quickly discovered that Paul Mitchell’s polish masked significant problems with its programs. She expected top-tier instruction, but found it limited and not aligned with today’s market, especially around trendy techniques like hair coloring and hair restoration, like protein treatments. When she wanted to learn about hair extensions—another high-demand service—the school offered no in-depth classes, forcing her to look elsewhere. One seminar she found on extensions offered outside of school, which ran just two days, was $1,400. These additional courses, while important to stay competitive in the field, don’t count toward students’ required licensure hours, meaning they add to their financial burden without bringing them any closer to their credentials. Students also reported that beauty schools don’t impart essential skills outside hair—learning how to run a business, or building up a client base.

When Mia began cutting hair on the floor, she worked with two instructors she said were knowledgeable and helpful. But they were often supervising 70 or more students at once. The duo was so occupied that students began teaching each other to cover what they weren’t learning on their own. A second Paul Mitchell Dallas student, Crystal, confirmed in a telephone interview that her peers would often learn from each other.² “I didn’t expect my classmates to be my teachers,” Crystal said.

This was a common complaint among cosmetology students across many institutions. They told ������Ƶ that instructors would be overwhelmed by the number of students working on the floor at one time, unable to dedicate meaningful time to helping them learn certain techniques. Sometimes, those teachers would just disappear. Many students said turnover rates were extraordinarily high. At one point in Crystal’s program, no teacher showed up for her class for what she estimated was a week straight.³ So Crystal and her classmates just sat around on their phones for eight hours—time that counted toward her credential, she said.

This lack of consistent, quality instruction leaves students tangled in their studies, but cosmetology careers are already defined by low wages and limited opportunities (see Figures 1 and 2). Cosmetologists in almost every state earn a mean hourly pay much less than a living wage. In many cases, it is less than those with only a high school diploma, according to an analysis commissioned for this report from RTI International, a nonprofit research institute.⁴

In no state does the average cosmetologist’s wage provide enough to live on for an adult with two children. And many parents chose cosmetology as their educational pathway hoping it will provide them flexibility to determine their own hours. According to a separate analysis by ������Ƶ, approximately one in three of those earning certificates in “personal and consumer services”—which includes cosmetology students—are student parents.⁵ These students want to earn licenses that will provide economic mobility for their families, but they receive little return on their investment.

Even several years into their career cosmetologists don’t fare much better, according to the RTI analysis. A cosmetology graduate making the median salary who enrolled in a program that accepts federal aid only makes around $20,000 four years after completing a credential—well below the average for someone who is only a high school graduate (see Figure 3).

Despite those low wages, the median graduate is also repaying about $10,000 to $14,000 in student loan debt. And even with low U.S. unemployment rates overall in 2023, some graduates still can’t find a job. More than 10 percent of students who attended a for-profit cosmetology school were unemployed, almost three times the unemployment rate at the time.

As the Education Department was putting the 2023 gainful employment rule together, it estimated many cosmetology schools couldn’t meet gainful employment standards. RTI’s own analysis of student outcomes data reveals the stark failure of cosmetology programs in ensuring graduates earn more than those with only a high school diploma. In RTI’s analysis, more than half of the cosmetology programs at for-profit cosmetology schools—54 percent—and a quarter of those at public institutions fail to meet this standard.⁶ At large, for-profit conglomerate beauty schools, approximately 90 percent of cosmetology graduates fail to make more than what they would have with only a high school degree (See Figure 4). And the outcomes for smaller schools may be similar due to data suppression meant to protect student privacy. For example, RTI was unable to calculate gainful employment metrics for the nearly 33 percent of students who attend smaller for-profit schools.⁷

The RTI analysis of gainful employment standards shows that the median earnings of recent cosmetology graduates in all 50 states fall below the pay of a high school graduate, by between $5,000 to $14,000 (see Figure 5).

These sorts of poor outcomes are unsurprising, given that many students reported in focus groups and interviews that cosmetology schools peddle outdated training that won’t prepare them for a quality job.

Educational neglect can leave students scrambling to pay for missed lessons or retake coursework, just to keep their graduation and licensing exams from unraveling. The lackluster experiences reported in ������Ƶ’s focus groups reflect an industry resistant to evolving. Students shouldn’t have to wonder whether their teachers will be in class the next day, and they shouldn’t have to pay thousands of dollars to learn current coloring and other techniques outside of school.

Another finding from ������Ƶ’s focus groups and interviews, one of the most troubling, was a stark racial double standard: Black people are expected to know how to work on all types of hair. White people are not. Even though a large share of cosmetologists are people of color, few beauty schools teach about textured hair.

These deficiencies in the system are disheartening for students who view cosmetology as a calling, a method of affirming and uplifting their clients’ identities. Black clients, in particular, have long been overlooked or even derided in beauty standards, and cosmetologists can play a pivotal role in helping them feel seen and confident. A California hair braider wanted to help change the perspective of people of color about their natural hair, she told ������Ƶ in a one-on-one interview. Helping young biracial children work with their hair for the first time, or a woman who has never embraced her natural hair, can be emotional. It’s part of “God’s purpose,” the hair braider said.

States are just starting to bridge this educational gap. Only a few of them, including New York, Connecticut, and Minnesota, have passed laws mandating cosmetology curricula include lessons on textured hair.⁸ The New York state senator who introduced the bill to require education on textured hair, Jamaal T. Bailey, a Black man, told Allure he sometimes struggled to even find a barber who could touch up his hair during the legislative session in Albany, which has a predominantly White population.⁹

And just practically, failing to teach proper care for textured hair presents a safety risk. Bleaching Black hair, for example, can cause serious damage.¹⁰ By overlooking education in textured hair, the industry undermines its own claims of prioritizing health and sanitation in justifying excessive licensure hours.

Big- and brand-name cosmetology schools like Paul Mitchell and Empire Beauty are often the ones promising a fast track to success in the booming beauty industry. Yet, these same institutions—despite their prominence—are frequently under scrutiny for fraud and abuse, accused of preying on the students they claim to empower.

La’ James again offers a striking example of this troubling reality. It has been sued continually for more than a decade but has escaped meaningful punishment. The school has settled several lawsuits, including one in 2020 when a group of students filed a class-action suit, alleging La’ James had violated Iowa law by illegally withholding student aid for living expenses, breaking a deal it made to them when they had enrolled.¹ In 2021, a state audit revealed La’ James had continually provided misleading information about students’ financial aid, prompting yet another settlement in December 2022 with the Iowa attorney general in which it forgave $462,000 in student loans.²

The systemic legal and regulatory issues go hand in hand with the poor education quality at La’ James. Countless La’ James students have, either in court filings or through social media, cut the same pattern: Instructors were often absent, course materials were outdated, and, in some cases, they were overcharged for their programs.

One Facebook group is entirely dedicated to calling out La’ James for allegedly defrauding students in various ways.³ One student in the group posted in January 2025 that they felt trapped. “To be degraded and treated like a child by some of them,” the student wrote. “I already put too much money to quit now when I have a couple months left but I feel so depressed.”

Another prominent for-profit chain, the Milan Institute of Cosmetology, has more than a dozen locations in three states and casts itself on its website as a “student-focused,” family-owned school, a down-home alternative to private equity-controlled institutions. But based on the institute’s extraordinarily poor outcomes, the school’s “student-focused” education is remarkably ineffective. According to the most recently available public data, only a small share of students across several campuses graduate on time or find employment. At its Visalia, California, campus, roughly 6 percent—or just 13 of 215 eligible students—graduated from the cosmetology program on schedule for 2022. And of the 85 students the school said were ready for employment, only about one quarter, or 24 of the available students, found jobs.⁴ A similar story emerges at the school’s Clovis, California, campus. Only 20 of the nearly 400 students who qualified for graduation finished the cosmetology program on time, amounting to about a 5-percent completion rate.⁵

At one point, it seemed the school was on the verge of shutting down. In 2019, California state regulators urged current and former Milan students to obtain financial and academic records as soon as possible.⁶ In September of 2019, Milan Institute President Gary Yasuda admitted in a TV interview to taking employees’ retirement money to keep the school financially solvent.⁷ But the school still stayed in business.

The school’s two accreditors, the Council on Occupational Education and National Accrediting Commission of Career Arts and Sciences, have also taken action⁸
and over the last five or so years, have put several campuses on probation or told them that they were violating accreditor standards around student outcomes and financial management.

With the glut of low-performing schools, it seems logical that more might close, or regulators might take a stricter line with them. Remarkably, these institutions—including Milan Institute, La’ James, and Empire schools—remain open and able to reap financial aid dollars.

In La’ James’s case, an individual who worked on the state lawsuits said in an interview with ������Ƶ there was interest in criminally prosecuting the school. But the former official alleged La’ James’ owner hired Doug Gross, a prominent Republican lawyer who once ran for governor, to “fix” the relationship with the state and secure a settlement instead.

A couple of major cosmetology schools have shuttered, but only after serious misconduct led the U.S. Department of Education to intervene. One, Marinello Schools of Beauty, closed in 2016, following years of accusations that the school deceived students and provided a subpar education.⁹

In 2016, the Education Department found the institution had schemed with an unaccredited high school known as Parkridge Private School to funnel students in and earn fake diplomas and then enroll them in Marinello, but leave them with a useless credential.¹⁰

The Education Department determined Marinello had falsely certified the financial aid eligibility of students from Parkridge who lacked the accredited high school diplomas or GEDs needed to access federal financial aid. It barred five Marinello campuses from continued participation in federal financial aid programs. Marinello subsequently closed all of its 56 campuses. Marinello students had received more than $87 million in Pell Grants and loans in the 2014–15 academic year.¹¹ The Biden administration later discharged 28,000 borrowers’ loans totaling approximately $238 million, due to widespread and substantial misrepresentations made by the school and leaving students without instructors for weeks to months.¹²

Similar misconduct occurred decades earlier at for-profit schools run by Wilfred American Educational Corporation.¹³ In the early 1990s, federal investigations had unearthed crimes that ranged from financial aid fraud to embezzlement; Wilfred Academy closed the remainder of its schools in 1994.¹⁴

In 2017, the Education Department also began discharging loan debt for students who attended the school. It took nearly 25 years for the victims of the Wildfred’s wrongdoing to receive loan forgiveness.

Janice Dorian, a retired beauty school owner in Massachusetts, pioneered an apprenticeship model in the state in 2017.¹ Her experience demonstrates that, despite the challenges she faced in changing the cosmetology educational system, apprenticeships not only can work in delivering cosmetology education, but provide a critical alternative to overly restrictive pathways. This model helps protect students from being exploited for their financial aid or free labor, avoids burdening them with student loan debt, and still preserves a state’s licensing requirements.

Apprenticeships allow students to learn the essentials of cosmetology, prepare for entry-level employment, and successfully pass both school and state board licensing exams. In addition to classroom learning, students gain and refine practical skills at local salons where they are paid. However, such alternative models remain rare, and industry resistance has been strong—most recently seen in Iowa, where an apprenticeship model bill stalled in the legislature.²

Dorian initially used the traditional cosmetology educational model, accessing federal financial aid to help students enroll in her cosmetology school. Although her institutions had no federal or compliance findings, over time she recognized that the costs and regulatory burdens of federal, state, and accreditation requirements made the system financially unsustainable for students without heavy reliance on student loans. She learned that too many potential professionals could not afford to spend months training at a traditional cosmetology school, foregoing wages and going into debt. These students often faced life challenges that made the traditional model inaccessible. This realization led her to transition from a traditional school model to a Registered Apprenticeship program.

A Registered Apprenticeship program allows budding cosmetologists to earn progressive wages and build clientele as they acquire more skills.³ Registered apprentices receive a combination of structured on-the-job learning and classroom-based education. Importantly, they benefit from worker protections they wouldn’t otherwise have while training in-house at a beauty school. Apprentices earn the same credentials as students completing traditional programs.

Dorian encountered several obstacles along the way in establishing her apprenticeship program. Even though her school had recently renewed its accreditation for the maximum six years and secured recertification from the U.S. Department of Education to continue in the federal financial aid program, her accreditor warned her that shifting to an apprenticeship model would jeopardize her accreditation. Undeterred, Dorian voluntarily withdrew her school’s accreditation, and that withdrawal prevented her school from continuing participation in federal financial aid programs.

Her next challenge was securing approval for her apprenticeship program from the state licensing board. The board imposed numerous restrictions on the program, many of which went beyond the requirements for traditional cosmetology programs. But Dorian went on to get approval and she successfully launched a hybrid apprenticeship model, which combined 600 hours of instruction (300 completed in-person and 300 completed online) and 400 hours of hands-on salon experience at salons across the region. The program’s completion, placement, and licensure rates exceeded 90 percent. The experience reinforced her belief that the traditional cosmetology education model fosters poor incentives for schools and that licensed apprenticeships provide a better alternative for everyone.

The model realigned incentives for her students and for salons. Many of the participating salons hosting apprentices provided input on the curriculum to ensure that students received a standardized foundational education, which prepared them for entry-level employment and successful completion of the state licensing exam. This allowed the salons to train apprentices further in techniques and styles specific to their clientele. Students gained hands-on mentorship and oversight as they worked directly with paying clients, creating a mutual interest in high-quality training. Additionally, the model improved compliance with labor regulations. Apprentices couldn’t be paid “under the table,” and salons not meeting compliance standards either had to adjust or forgo hosting apprentices.

The impact of this alternative approach is clear. In ������Ƶ’s focus groups, a student who was enrolled in a Registered Apprenticeship program described how she was paid from day one for her work. Other students, who had taken the traditional cosmetology route, expressed surprise and envy. They were required to work “on the floor” from 8:30 AM to 4:00 PM, Monday through Friday, until they completed their necessary program hours, which often takes almost a year or more. Many felt that they should have received at least some form of compensation beyond tips for the services they provided at their school’s salon.

Dorian’s experience highlights the benefits of a Registered Apprenticeship model and demonstrates why it should be embraced as a critical pathway for cosmetology education. It offers students practical experience, compensation, and protection while ensuring salons have a pipeline of well-trained talent—aligning incentives in ways the traditional system cannot.

Cosmetology education in the United States is in dire need of reform. In Mia’s words: “The curriculum needs to be more updated, and more inclusive—inclusive of what’s happening today, versus what was trending five, ten years ago.”¹

Mia ended up wrapping up her program at Paul Mitchell Dallas in March 2020, right as the world plunged into the COVID-19 pandemic. When she reflects on her time there, she wishes she had picked another school. She had praise for a couple of her teachers, but their presence wasn’t enough to mitigate problems, especially the speedy turnover among other instructors. Mia said she was lucky that when she found a job at a salon after graduating, the owner took an interest in her. The owner instructed Mia to shadow her for a couple of weeks while she taught her skills that Mia said Paul Mitchell Dallas never did.

“This is what I should have been learning,” Mia said.

Yet beauty schools prioritize profit over students. What should be a pathway to economic opportunity and artistic fulfillment has devolved into an exploitative system. These institutions not only resist necessary changes but wield significant power to shape policy that cements the status quo. Their representatives are embedded on regulatory boards. They lobby tirelessly against efforts to reduce licensure hours, ensuring their control over curricula and perpetuating long, costly programs. They also have skirted real responsibility in the federal financial aid system, taking advantage of not just students’ but also of taxpayers’ money.

This entrenched influence costs students. Many of them are from historically marginalized backgrounds and enter programs where the hallmarks are outdated training and under-resourced instruction. They often leave saddled with debt and unprepared for careers that pay less than a living wage. The cycle of undereducation and economic struggle, all incentivized in large part by federal financial aid, underscores a need for urgent action.

Below are six ������Ƶ policy recommendations for better supporting students on the cosmetology pathway and weeding out predatory actors from the industry.

1. Promote Registered Apprenticeship options. As seen with Janice Dorian’s cosmetology program, the incentives for students are better aligned in an apprenticeship program than with a traditional accredited program. Establishing a Registered Apprenticeship program takes many steps, including identifying sponsors and partners, completing a registration process with either the federal Office of Apprenticeship or State Apprenticeship agency, and developing core components to the program, including ensuring that the program is industry-led, apprentices are paid, and they receive on-the-job training. The drive to set up these programs should come from state boards and the local industry employers who can help push schools to pursue new models of education that result in a well-trained pool of cosmetologists.

2. Evaluate licensing hour requirements. Licensing hour requirements vary widely, averaging 1,500 hours nationally, with no clear link between more hours and better outcomes. States should reassess these requirements, focusing on consumer health, safety, and service quality. States should compare their requirements to states with lower thresholds and consider reducing hours where justified.

3. Require that curricula reflect student and market needs. Many students in ������Ƶ’s focus groups said that they felt like they were limited to learning how to cut, style, and treat White people’s hair using antiquated methods, even though they were going to school with the hopes of learning new and innovative techniques to perform on diverse clientele, including those with textured hair. State boards should revise their requirements for licensing exams to include more up-to-date services and to ensure all students are trained to understand and work with textured hair. States without these requirements can look to places like New York, which was the vanguard in requiring a more inclusive curriculum.

4. Evaluate state board membership. Representatives from beauty schools sitting on licensing and other state boards do not present an inherent conflict of interest and could represent valuable experience. But because cosmetology schools have proven time and again they are chiefly interested in shielding their own industry, state officials should evaluate whether their inclusion on these panels means a conflict of interest that harms students.

5. Hold schools accountable for extremely low wages. For over 50 years, career-oriented schools have battled against oversight and accountability that threaten their access to federal financial aid programs. This has led to exploitive and predatory behaviors from segments of our postsecondary education system, particularly at cosmetology schools. Earnings data from cosmetology programs that receive federal financial aid show that many of these programs fail their students, leaving them no better off than if they had only received their high school diploma.

Programs that consistently fail to help their graduates make more than they would have with only their high school diploma and repay their debts need to shape up or lose access to federal financial aid. Participation in the federal aid programs is a privilege, not a right. That privilege should be earned. While many cosmetology programs will fail the gainful employment benchmark, many others will pass. Cosmetology schools with failing outcomes should learn from those meeting earnings and debt-to-earnings standards and improve their programs. Gainful employment regulations have never been fully implemented and are currently held up in court. Congress needs to codify these standards within statute.

6. Limit program length to the state-required minimum. The regulations that would limit program length are currently held up in the courts,² making it a challenge for the Education Department to finalize the rules capping program hours at state licensing requirements to prevent wastage of taxpayer dollars that go well beyond the hour requirement needed for licensure. Congress should also enact laws to prevent schools from exceeding these limits, exploiting students for tuition and unpaid labor. Congress shouldn’t allow taxpayer dollars to pay for more than what the states require.