We’re excited to introduce you to the always interesting and insightful Simon Sarkissian. We hope you’ll enjoy our conversation with Simon below.

Simon , thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today Do you wish you had started sooner?

If I’m honest, I don’t wish I had started sooner or later. I wish I had started exactly when I did.

I began my creative career at a moment when life had already softened me and sharpened me at the same time. I wasn’t fresh out of the gate, fearless and unscarred. I had lived a little. I had felt loss, comparison, pressure, the urge to be practical, and the quiet fear of choosing myself too loudly. When I finally committed to my creative path, I wasn’t chasing a fantasy. I was answering a pull I could no longer ignore.

At the time, I was at a crossroads. On the outside, I was doing what I was supposed to be doing. On the inside, I knew something was missing. Creativity wasn’t a hobby for me. It was a language I had been suppressing. Hair, image, transformation, those weren’t just skills I learned. They were instincts I finally allowed myself to trust. Starting then meant I showed up hungry, intentional, and deeply present. I wasn’t creating to be seen. I was creating because not creating felt dishonest.

If I had started sooner, I think I would have had more reckless confidence but less depth. I might have moved faster, but I wouldn’t have understood people the way I do now. I wouldn’t have known how to listen, how to read energy, how to hold space. My work would have looked good, but it wouldn’t have meant as much.

If I had started later, I might have been safer, but smaller. I would have spent more time wondering what if, and less time building something real. I would have delayed the discomfort that ultimately became my teacher.

Starting when I did gave me the balance of courage and consciousness. I arrived ready to work, ready to fail, ready to evolve, and ready to take responsibility for my voice. Looking back, I see that timing as a quiet kind of wisdom. I didn’t miss my moment. I met it.

And that’s the thing about creative careers. They don’t run on clocks. They run on readiness. When I started, I was ready to mean it.

Simon , before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

I’m a hairstylist focused on thoughtful, intentional transformation. My work is about helping people feel more like themselves, not more like a trend. Hair is the tool I use, but the real work is understanding the person in the chair and translating that into something that fits their life, their features, and their sense of self.

I got into this industry because I’ve always been observant of people and how small changes can shift confidence in a big way. What started as learning technique quickly became about connection. I realized early on that hair isn’t just a service. It’s personal. People come in carrying stress, uncertainty, or a feeling that they’ve outgrown their look, and they’re trusting you with that. That responsibility is what keeps me grounded in my work.

I specialize in precision haircuts, color, and overall refinement. Most of my clients aren’t looking for dramatic reinvention. They want clarity. They want something that feels clean, current, and easy to live with. I help solve the problem of inconsistency and guesswork by creating looks that are intentional, maintainable, and aligned with who someone is right now.

What sets me apart is my approach. I don’t rush appointments and I don’t default to trends. I pay close attention to structure, lifestyle, and how someone actually wears their hair day to day. I see the client as part of the process, not just the end result. My goal is for the work to feel considered, not overdone.

I’m most proud of the trust I’ve built with my clients over time. Many of them stay with me because they feel heard and because their hair evolves with them. I’ve grown my brand slowly and deliberately, staying consistent with my values rather than chasing visibility for its own sake.

What I want potential clients and followers to know is simple. My work is honest, detail oriented, and personal. I care about longevity, quality, and creating results that make sense for real life. If you’re looking for hair that feels intentional and grounded, we’ll likely be a good fit.

What’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative in your experience?

The most rewarding part of being a creative is seeing someone leave with a sense of alignment. Not just liking how they look, but feeling more settled in themselves. That quiet shift is everything to me.

I find a lot of meaning in the trust that comes with this work. People show up vulnerable, sometimes unsure of what they want, and they let you guide them. Being able to listen, interpret, and translate that into something tangible feels purposeful. It’s not about praise or attention. It’s about knowing I helped someone move through a moment of change with a little more confidence and clarity.

On a personal level, the work keeps me honest. It forces me to stay present, to keep refining my eye, and to grow alongside the people I work with. That ongoing evolution, both creatively and personally, is what makes it rewarding. It’s never static, and neither am I.

Do you think there is something that non-creatives might struggle to understand about your journey as a creative? Maybe you can shed some light?

I think what non creatives often struggle to understand is that the hardest part of a creative journey isn’t the work itself. It’s the internal negotiation that happens every day around self trust, doubt, and consistency.

From the outside, creativity can look spontaneous or even effortless. In reality, it requires a lot of discipline, restraint, and emotional regulation. You’re constantly making decisions without guarantees. There isn’t a clear ladder or a single definition of success, so you have to build your own metrics and learn how to stand by them.

Another thing that’s easy to miss is how personal the work feels. When something doesn’t land, it doesn’t just feel like a bad day at work. It can feel like a reflection of you. Learning how to separate your worth from your output takes time and maturity, and it’s a skill just as important as any technical one.

If there’s any insight to offer, it’s this. Progress in creative work is rarely linear. There are long stretches where nothing looks like it’s happening, but something is always forming underneath. Patience and self belief matter more than talent in the long run.

Contact Info:

• Instagram: @simondoeshairla
• Other: TikTok: simondoeshairla