Queen of Swords: The Origin Story

Hello there, Elma here :)

A lot of people know me for my work behind the chair, but not everyone knows the story behind why I do what I do.

Originally from the Bronx, NY, I grew up as the youngest daughter in a working-class, immigrant, multigenerational Muslim household that had to carve out its own place in the world. My parents came from Montenegro (former Yugoslavia) to NYC in 1975. I can’t tell you how much respect and gratitude I have for them, for real. They came from extreme poverty and limited education. Life was hard, and they did their absolute best with what little they had.

In the Bronx’s Little Italy, my father started our family business: a butcher shop that smoked meat, where people from our small community would shop. I adored him; I looked up to him. In Montenegrin, he called me “sine,” which translates to “son,” a term of endearment. I thought I was special! In our culture, women lived under extreme scrutiny; a woman’s hair carried meaning and identity. How you looked and how you acted could make or break your family’s reputation and survival. Well, that got old real fast for me.

Coincidentally, I was a queer child. Although I am cisgender, identifying as she/her, I lived a queer lifestyle by not adhering to the gender roles assigned to me by my family and society. I wanted to play sports with the boys, do yard work with my brothers, and race my older cousins on my bike. I was often the ringleader in our mischievous adventures, the one who got us into trouble. I strayed from the path that was laid ahead for me. Instead of marriage and family, I craved experience, independence, and sovereignty. I rebelled and looked different.

Since I was ten years old, I’ve had a not-so-well-known condition called trichotillomania, a body-focused repetitive behavior (BFRB) that causes recurrent urges to pull out one’s hair, leading to visible bald spots on the crown of my head. It’s not a choice; it’s an impulse-control disorder. Whether I wanted to be or not, I was different. From middle school to college, I experimented with new ways of dressing my hair, trying to cover it up. I was always changing my hairstyle or wearing wigs, setting myself apart as the girl with the “weird hair.”

Privately, I carried debilitating shame for my chronic uniqueness, not knowing anyone else like me. I began researching my condition and begged my mom to take me to a therapist in high school. I went to college at CUNY Queens, where I studied Women’s History and Nutrition, and was quickly radicalized when I met a group of punks who introduced me to DIY culture. I dropped out of college and eventually sought help from an outpatient clinic that did CBT and DBT group therapy in Manhattan.

My own struggles became the foundation for my approach to beauty: being inclusive, transparent, and healing.

Naturally, I couldn’t fit into traditional spaces or systems; I had to create my own. When I was younger, I wanted to go to beauty school, but my family insisted I go to college. After I dropped out, my mom was like, “...sooo how about beauty school?” Fortunately for me, straight out of beauty school I first learned curly haircuts in 2010 while apprenticing under a dry-haircut specialist. It was a formative and rare experience for most stylists at the time. I focused on textured hair because I felt there was a lack of understanding and a lot of prejudice around it.

Personally, I was someone with coarse, textured, curly hair, and no one ever curated a haircut that cared for my needs and desires as a client, let alone a whole salon focused on it. In the spring of 2017, in Bushwick, NY, Queen of Swords was born out of that fire: to make a space where people feel seen, where stylists can learn and thrive, and where beauty is treated as both art and care. Finally, a place where I could be my whole self, integrating all the parts of me I once had to sever in order to survive. Life was finally starting to make sense.

The Tower Card: Illness and Recovery

In a cruel twist of fate, at the end of 2022, I was diagnosed with two different breast cancers at the same time, none of which were hereditary. I was angry and afraid, to say the least. I was 37 years old, and it felt like my life was just beginning when I received my diagnosis. I didn’t want cancer to be the end of my story; I have so much more to do.

I underwent chemotherapy, surgery, radiation, and immunotherapy. After a long, harrowing battle, I am now cancer-free and under the care of the Memorial Sloan Kettering team, receiving hormone-suppressant therapy for the foreseeable future.

In spite of my circumstances, I was compelled to keep growing my business. I locked in with laser-like focus. I was sick and tired of being sick and tired. While I was lying in bed recovering from treatments, I was dreaming up and curating my second location, Queen of Swords 2, in Ridgewood, Queens. At my doctor appointments, I’d talk about the future, what I was cooking up once I was done with all this. I convinced myself there was life waiting for me right on the other side, and that I’d never have to go through this again.

I opened the second salon in November 2024. But just when I thought I’d made it through the hardest part, life had other plans.

In February 2025, I slipped on ice and broke my leg and ankle (a Maisonneuve fracture), and I was suddenly disabled again, just one week after the grand opening party. Cancer treatments had made my bones brittle, and I couldn’t withstand the impact. I was crestfallen; I had never experienced this kind of physical limitation before.

After six months of physical therapy and recovery, I stepped back into the salon this summer with a completely new outlook on my life’s purpose. What I learned through it all is that beauty, like healing, isn’t about perfection. It’s about resilience, connection, and showing up even when things break, fall apart, and drag you through the undertow. Ultimately, what brought me to a safe harbor was my community. The love, support, and encouragement I received made all the difference.

The Empress Card: Where I Am Now

Things look very different than they did before 2023. These days, I only work behind the chair a few days a month, focusing on my trichotillomania clientele and cutting and coloring hair at Queen of Swords 2 in Ridgewood. Most of my time now is spent behind the scenes, creating, managing, and maintaining both locations.

One of my greatest joys has been moving three of my stylists into management roles. Watching them grow into leaders and bring their own vision to the salons has been inspiring. The team is growing and thriving, and I couldn’t be more proud of the way everyone is flourishing together.

Stepping back from the daily rhythm of doing hair has given me space to see the bigger picture, how our salons function as living, breathing ecosystems. I’m more intentional now, focusing on mentorship, storytelling, and shaping the kind of work culture I wish had existed when I started. I spend my days building systems that protect creativity instead of stifling it, and helping each stylist find balance between artistry, income, and personal well-being.

I’m also rediscovering my own creativity in new ways: writing, collaborating, designing, and dreaming up future projects that stretch beyond the salon chair. After everything I’ve been through, I feel more aligned than ever with my purpose, caring for people with body-focused repetitive behaviors like trichotillomania and leading beauty culture toward a more intentional, authentic, and meaningful place.

The Star Card: Where We’re Going

This November marks one year of Queen of Swords 2 in Ridgewood, eight years of Queen of Swords in Bushwick, and my 40th birthday (Libra baby, 9/25!). I feel immense gratitude for the life I’m living. We all know how tough the world can be, and I don’t take a single day of this for granted. Looking ahead, I want to keep pouring into Queen of Swords not just as a salon, but as a true community hub, a place for humans as much as it is for hair.

What might that look like? Maybe a crochet or book club meeting, a community fundraiser, or even an art or music show. I’d love to hear your ideas. Let’s see what we can create together in this new space.

For the first time in a long while, I’m also offering retail hair styling products, including one from none other than industry legend Chris McMillan. Many of you have asked for something to take home after your services, and when I connected with Chris and his products, it just felt right. There’s a whole story there, which I can’t wait to share one day.

Thank You!!

Thank you for reading this first blog post. My hope is that this can become a fun space for me to share my thoughts, stories, and dreams with you all. Here’s to more connection, chill vibes, and good times.