A Brief Introduction to My Wig Collection: On Shape-Shifting as a Woman Leader (Part 1)

I own about 30 wigs. No, really. Thirty. And Every single one has a name.

Last year I ordered a load of wig stands from SHEIN and lined them up on the shelves in my walk-in closet. Every time I walk in, there are 30 disembodied heads staring back at me. 😂

And, in case you didn’t already think I was completely unhinged, I’m fairly convinced my personality changes slightly depending on which one I’m wearing.

My business partner swears he can predict what sort of meeting we’re about to have based on which Chenai walks through the door.

One unintended consequence of changing my look so often is that people I've met before sometimes hesitate before saying hello because they're trying to work out whether it's actually me.

If you've spent any time as a woman in leadership, you'll probably realise this article isn't really about wigs.

It's about the invisible decisions women make before we walk into a room. We know people start forming opinions about us long before we've opened our mouths. We know our appearance influences how we're perceived, whether that's fair or not. And we know that sometimes the version of ourselves we choose to lead with can make all the difference.

Today, I’d like to introduce you to just a few of the many wigs of Chenai Gondo.

Meet Storm - Visionary Founder Chenai

She is silver. I‘ve toyed with renaming her Rhaenyra - but remember all those people who named their kid Daenerys before the final season of game of thrones? How’s that going for them? Storm will not suffer the same fate.

She's creative, edgy and innovative. She's just the right side of eccentric. She's the version of me that leads with ideas rather than caution. Founder first. CEO second.

Storm helped one of my LinkedIn posts go semi-viral. (Viral for LinkedIn, obviously. Let’s not get carried away...)

Storm also absolutely ruined my relationship with my new neighbours.

Last year my daughter and I went next door to introduce ourselves. The neighbour looked at my kid. Then looked at me. Then smiled and said…

“So… is this your nan?”

Now.

If 10 is responding to that with grace and dignity, and 0 is completely losing the plot on someone’s doorstep…I was probably about a minus five.

I think they avoid us now.

Meet Karen - Corporate Executive Chenai

She is universally reviled by all my real friends, especially my sister whose judgement I trust - no question.  Except when it comes to Karen.

Karen is corporate Chenai.

She's the version of me that might still be climbing the ladder at McKinsey or British Land. The one who spent her career perfecting executive presence. She doesn't curse in polite company. She wears tailored blazers, asks difficult questions and has absolutely no intention of apologising for taking up space.

The second I put Karen on I suddenly feel like the CEO I was born to be. Or Marie Antoinette.

Let them have cake!!!

Karen knows the careful dance. She knows how to command a room without dominating it. How to be warm without being underestimated. How to be confident without being labelled "too much."

Judge me all you want but there are places where she - and only she - can get the job done.

Meet Pamela - Uncomplicated Soft Chenai

Pamela is ridiculously long, made from 100% human hair and despite the fact that she cost an embarrassing amount of money, she still didn’t have a name until about five minutes ago. I keep on changing it.

She’s feminine and flirty. She feels like she should come with a full set of lashes, perfectly contoured cheekbones and a Louis Vuitton Neverfull. I imagine her belonging to a 35-year-old Instagram influencer who absent-mindedly tosses her hair over one shoulder while filming a “Get Ready With Me” video.

She’s also, if I’m honest, a little bit generic. Which is precisely why I love her.

Pamela is the closest wig I have to “default settings”. She goes with everything, she’s easy, and I never regret choosing her. She doesn’t make a statement. She doesn’t require bravery. She just works. On days when my brain is already full, that’s exactly what I need.

And finally…(for today at least)

Grace Jones - Unapologetic Chenai.

Not technically a wig. In 2023 I shaved my head and I absolutely loved it. I’ve never felt cooler. So every few months I shave my head again.

Standing directly under the rain shower with a shaved head is one of life’s great underrated pleasures.

Grace Jones is unapologetic Chenai.

Having no hair makes me feel formidable and completely unburdened by other people's expectations. I'm not masking. It's time for the radiant blue lipstick. Grace Jones is out of the closet. Nobody puts Grace Jones in a corner.

The only downside is that I’m already very intense, quite direct and a black woman founder. Grace Jones can be... a lot. Tradeoffs must be made.

There are lots of other wigs that didn’t make the cut for this post

Like Kimberly the preacher‘s wife, Amina the wig everyone thinks is my real hair, Grinchy the green Christmas wig or even Cleopatra the dominatrix (it’s Friday, and given you’ve read this far I have safely assumed the haters have pissed off and we are now among friends…)

I don’t have anything against my natural hair. I even had locs for 14 years and cut those off when I got bored. My fro comes out to play fairly often - especially on weekends.

People ask me why I change my hair so much. To know me is to know I think about my hairstyles the same way „regular“ people think about their clothes. I wake up I get dressed and I ask myself - What’s it gonna be?

Every woman has her own version of this.

For some it's a favourite blazer. For others it's a pair of heels, a piece of jewellery or a swipe of lipstick before a board meeting. We know there are rooms where looking too young, too feminine, too colourful or too unconventional can distract from the message we're trying to land.

It wasn’t always this colourful.

Yes, I was a totaly hipster in college and grad school, but when I started my corporate career in Zurich, Switzerland my wardrobe was almost entirely grey and my hair lived in a tight bun.

When I moved to London, something gradually changed. My wardrobe became brighter. My hair became bigger. Eventually the wigs arrived.

Today, my look has become part of my personal brand. People expect bright colours. They expect my hair to be different every time they see me. Some people love it. Some people definitely don’t. And that’s okay.

I adapt to my environment.

I’m a practical, commercial beast. If I’m pitching to a board or walking into a room where I know a more conservative look will help me land the message, I’ll often choose a different wig, different clothes or a different version of myself. I’m completely comfortable with that.

Last week I wrote about code-switching and a few people seemed surprised that anyone would consciously do it. But certain people know exactly what I mean.

We code-switch in the way we speak, in the way we dress, in the way we present ourselves. I suppose, in my case, I code-switch with my wigs too.

The difference today is that it feels like a choice rather than an obligation.

So friends - which one is your favorite wig.

For more insights like this, follow me Chenai Gondo, PhD