If the history of Toronto’s barbershops is a saga of social clubs and public debate, then the history of women’s hair colouring is a tale of secrets whispered behind boudoir doors. For the longest time in Toronto, changing one’s hair colour was considered a mark of “wickedness” or an association with the theatre—which, in the Victorian era, were seen as one and the same.
How did Torontonians go from rubbing lead into their scalps to embracing the bold experiments seen today on Queen Street? We invite you to step behind the curtain of beauty history with torontonka.
“Toronto the Good” and the Weight of Morality (1850–1900)
In the latter half of the 19th century, the city earned the nickname “Toronto the Good” for its rigid Victorian values. For a proper lady, dyeing her hair was an unthinkable scandal. Tinted locks were a clear marker of a “woman of easy virtue.” However, this didn’t mean women weren’t desperate to hide their grey; they simply did so in secret—and often at great risk.
A Poisonous Price for Beauty
The most popular method for masking grey hair in early Toronto involved lead combs. This wasn’t a metaphor: women used actual lead combs dipped in vinegar. The resulting chemical reaction left a residue on the hair that darkened over time, effectively camouflaging silver strands.
Apothecaries on King Street sold “Colour Restorers”—the word “dye” was strictly avoided. Products based on silver nitrate were also a hit. While they successfully turned hair black, they came with a bizarre side effect: in bright sunlight, the hair often took on a metallic green or purple sheen. Moreover, these concoctions frequently led to lead poisoning, chronic headaches, and nausea, proving that beauty truly did require sacrifice.
The “Natural” Alternative
Those wary of harsh chemicals turned to kitchen-counter remedies. Toronto newspapers of the era were filled with advice on rinsing hair with strong brews of black tea, coffee, tobacco, or walnut shells. These methods provided a subtle, temporary tint and were safe for one’s reputation—a lady could always claim she was simply using a “medicinal tonic.”
The Dorenwend Era and the Birth of the “Beauty Parlour” (1880–1910)
Toronto’s first grooming professionals were men, and many were African Canadians. In the 1830s, the city directory listed only seven barbers, four of whom had escaped slavery in the United States. The Cary brothers (Thomas, Newton, George, and John) operated successful establishments in the 1850s, catering to the city’s elite.
Back then, these “saloons” often combined hair cutting, shaving, and even clothes cleaning. Some masters, like H. Nelson, proudly dubbed themselves “Professors,” emphasizing a scientific approach to their craft. Women, however, had few options; until the 1860s, only one dedicated ladies’ salon existed—Miss Bates at 31 King West. Most “respectable” women had their hair styled at home by maids.
The real revolution arrived in 1880 with a German couple, Hildebert and Anna Dorenwend. They opened the “Paris Hairdressing Parlor” on Yonge Street, which would eventually become the heart of a beauty empire.
The Dorenwends realized that Toronto women craved European chic. They offered an unprecedented range of services:
- Hair washing and tinting;
- Custom wigs, hairpieces, and chignons;
- Dandruff treatments;
- Removal of unwanted hair.
Intricate, voluminous styles were the height of fashion, and since natural hair was rarely enough, hairpieces were in high demand. Toronto even housed specialized factories, such as the Toronto Chignon Factory, where hair extensions were crafted not just from human hair, but from camel wool and jute. The Dorenwends elevated this to an art form, marketing their products as the most “scientific and hygienic” available.
By the 1890s, Dorenwend catalogues featured “Vegetable Hair Dye.” The marketing was carefully calibrated, emphasizing that the product was “harmless” and “imperceptible to others.” This marked the beginning of colour’s slow path toward social acceptance.
The Dorenwends were also known for experiments that blurred the line between medicine and vanity. In the 1890s, Hildebert’s son, Christian, began selling “Dorenwend Electric Belts.” Ads claimed that mild electric shocks could “restore the organs” and improve overall appearance. While it sounds like quackery today, turn-of-the-century Torontonians truly believed electricity was the key to eternal youth.
From Illustrated Toronto, 1890
The Turning Point: 1907 and the Rise of L’Oréal
While Toronto had its local heroes, global innovations quickly reached Canadian shores through strong ties to Britain and France. In 1907, French chemist Eugène Schueller invented the first safe synthetic hair dye, laying the foundation for L’Oréal.
L’Oréal’s first advertisement from 1909: “L’Oréal rendant aux cheveux leur couleur et leur vigueur” (L’Oréal restores colour and vigour to the hair).
Despite this breakthrough, Toronto women remained discreet for decades. In the 1910s and early 20s, city salons often featured “back entrances” so clients could slip in unnoticed. Newspaper ads typically showed melancholy grey-haired women who “looked 10 years younger” through “restoration” rather than “dyeing.”
The “Vamp,” Henna, and the Roaring Twenties
World War I changed everything. Toronto women gained the right to vote, shortened their hemlines, and chopped their hair into “bobs.” The famous “Marcel Wave” became the decade’s biggest hit. Suddenly, colouring your hair wasn’t just fashionable—it was an act of defiance.
The “Marcel Wave”
Henna became the go-to product, offering a vivid “Egyptian” red associated with the silent movie vamps. Meanwhile, early synthetic dyes began to appear, though the process was gruelling. A salon session could take three to four hours, with women wrapped in towels, enduring stinging mixtures under massive, clunky hair dryers.
The Hollywood Influence and the Glory of Eaton’s (1930–1950)
In the 1930s, Jean Harlow sparked a global obsession with platinum blonde. Toronto followed suit, though lightening hair was an extreme sport back then. Stylists used high-concentration mixtures of ammonia and hydrogen peroxide. Hair often turned to “straw” or simply broke off, but the desire to look like a silver-screen star outweighed the fear of damage.
The beauty hubs for the middle class were the massive department stores: T. Eaton Co. and Simpson’s. A trip to the Eaton’s salon on Queen Street was a major event. Surrounded by Art Deco luxury, Toronto women could finally feel like movie stars for an afternoon.
The Democratization of Colour: “Does she… or doesn’t she?”
Post-WWII, the beauty industry went mainstream. In the 1950s, Clairol released the first home-colouring kit that lightened hair without harsh bleaching and launched the legendary campaign: “Does she… or doesn’t she?” The hook was simple: the colour looked so natural that no one would suspect it came from a bottle.
This shattered the final taboo. Dyeing hair was no longer a sign of “artificiality” or “sin”; it became a standard grooming ritual. Suburbs across Toronto saw a surge in Miss Clairol Hair Color Bath kits. Now, any housewife could reinvent her look in her own bathroom, achieving a Marilyn Monroe-esque glow without waiting for a salon appointment.
The Era of the “Frosting Cap” (1960–1980)
If your mother or grandmother lived in Toronto during the 70s, they likely remember the ultimate torture device: the rubber frosting cap. Stylists would pull thin strands of hair through tiny holes with a metal hook before applying bleach.
This technique, known as “Frosting,” was wildly popular in Yorkville salons. During the 60s, Yorkville was the heart of hippie culture, and this method achieved that coveted “sun-kissed” look, making Torontonians look like they had just returned from a California beach.
Punk Rock and Queen Street West (1970–1990)
By the late 70s, Toronto saw a radical shift. The punk scene exploded around Queen Street, and the youth no longer wanted to look “natural.” They wanted to look shocking.
Manic Panic dyes were smuggled in from New York, turning hair neon green, hot pink, and electric blue. For structural integrity, mohawks were held up with everything from sugar water to actual glue. Salons like House of Lords—a legendary haunt for the city’s punks—became cultural landmarks. In these spaces, hair colour was an act of protest against a grey, corporate Toronto.
Today: High Tech Meets Natural Roots
Today, Toronto is a global hub where any style is possible. Interestingly, the industry has come full circle:
- The Return to Natural. Modern Balayage and Ombre techniques are essentially high-tech versions of the 70s “sun-kissed” look—thankfully without the rubber caps.
- Safety First. Much like Victorian women, modern Torontonians are wary of toxins. However, they now choose ammonia-free dyes, organic salons, and vegan-friendly products.
- Pan-Asian Influence. Toronto’s large Asian community has introduced new trends, such as ash-tones, pastels, and “digital perms,” with specialized salons in Markham and North York leading the way.
Strolling past the sleek salons on Yonge Street today, it’s hard to imagine that these same blocks once sold camel-hair chignons and electric belts. Yet, those first steps—from pioneering African Canadian barbers to the Dorenwend empire—built the foundation of a modern industry. Today, a Toronto girl can be a blonde in the morning and have pink highlights by dinner, and the only thing anyone will ask is for her colourist’s phone number.