There’s an airy loft space at Mayday Salon Cooperative where the staff often assembles for what’s known as radical healing. In a worker-owned co-op, full transparency is key to success, and at Mayday in East Nashville, nothing is off the table — from finances to the emotional realities of working there.
“I genuinely have a justice kink,” Mayday’s founder Olive Scibelli tells the Scene. “I just want everyone to be taken care of. I want everything to be fair. I want everything to be just. I want people to feel heard and seen.”
A worker-owned business model is a perfect fit for Scibelli’s radical sensibility. According to the U.S. Federation of Worker Cooperatives, worker cooperatives are “values-driven businesses that put worker and community benefit at the core of their purpose.” At Mayday, everyone shares in the labor and profits. Decisions are made collectively, with systems in place for conflict resolution. The salon operates on a 60/40 split (60 percent to the workers), compared with the industry-standard 50/50 split at most salons. Mayday also pays apprentices a living wage — $20 an hour, plus tips — which employees confirm is rare in the industry.
Scibelli, who also runs community-driven all-ages music venue Drkmttr, was already familiar with co-op ideology through years in Nashville’s DIY and activist communities. For Scibelli, the philosophy behind Mayday is simple: “It’s a safe space here, and it’s crazy that we think it’s radical when it’s a worker-first mentality.”
The salon is named after the International Workers’ Day holiday, which celebrates labor solidarity and collective action on May 1. Think of it as a progressive, international Labor Day — a holiday rooted in workers reclaiming their agency by taking to the streets.
Mayday’s stylists frequently move in and out of the space as they work, and being in their company feels kind of like being inside a Charli XCX-inspired Frida Kahlo painting: vibrant, stylish, genuinely kind.
“A really freeing experience for me is coming in here where you can be more outwardly hopeful,” stylist and education director Haley Spillman says. “You don’t have to tiptoe around people you work with who maybe don’t agree with you. When everybody’s on the same page, there’s a freedom in that.”
Spillman wears a gold orb necklace — a nod to the iconography of punk fashion designer Vivienne Westwood. She describes the staff simply as “punks who grew up.”
“I’ve noticed that [my time here] between clients is just as valuable as [time spent] with my clients,” says stylist Kaitlynn Shaw. “It’s important to have an understanding of what’s going on in everybody’s day-to-day and not just your own.”
Zac Sirten, a founding stylist at Mayday, adds: “Not having a major hierarchy here sets the tone. We all have to work together.”
Mayday seemed to emerge from a cosmic string of events. Scibelli and longtime friend and fellow stylist Alexa Brooke were co-managers at Fruits Hair Lab, the Nashville salon owned by singer-songwriter and Paramore frontwoman Hayley Williams that shuttered in June 2025. When the news broke, the two immediately knew they wanted to open their own salon as a co-op. Scibelli’s father had recently died, leaving them money that helped make the business possible. The Woodland Street location was also available because utility limitations made it unsuitable for a bar — one of the few businesses that can typically afford Nashville’s high rents.
Scibelli remains transparent about the business’s finances — there’s no hierarchy among who has information, and the books are always open to everyone. Originally from upstate New York, Scibelli references Joni Mitchell as an inspiration. It’s a little like how Mitchell described writing her 1971 landmark album Blue — operating “like a cellophane wrapper on a pack of cigarettes.” Scibelli has nothing to hide.
Despite seemingly being the only one of its kind in the country and operating for less than a year, Mayday is thriving. The salon is consistently booked, and Brooke notes that the staff has more than 100 years of combined experience — a rarity for a salon that’s still in its infancy.
“A rising tide lifts all ships,” Brooke says, citing a mantra the staff frequently returns to. “And that’s really what we try to do here.”
