This cult Instagram explores how hair brings us together

Scroll through Instagram account Capelli and you’ll find yourself tangled in an abundance of ringlets, braids and waves of hair. The account has become an archive of mesmerising hairstyles – most impossibly long or tied together in intricate combinations – pulled from across the internet.

Created and run by Camille Marcolini-Mésenge since 2019, the account grew from an adoration and appreciation of hair that began in childhood, first sparked by her grandmother’s consistently maintained hair: “It was the first ritual I ever witnessed, even before I understood what ritual meant,” she says. “I have never seen her with her hair undone… always the same blonde, motionless halo, anchored by two antique combs that once belonged to her mother.”

That appreciation continued as Marcolini-Mésenge came to recognise hair as “emotional cartography.” She views hair is as a medium that can tether us to one another, a shared language that transcends generations and geography. “Hair is brushed by grandmothers, braided by friends and cut by strangers.” Between images of floor-length curls skirting the ground and ringlets arranged into mesmerising patterns, many photographs show hair in pairs or groups – intertwined plaits joining people together, or locks grazing the waists of those standing side by side.

Below, we talk to Marcolini-Mésenge about the account’s inception and people’s endless fascination with long hair.

Why did you start the Instagram account?

Camille Marcolini-Mésenge: Capelli was born in 2019 during a time where I was lucky enough to attend many fashion shows. Something shifted that year – I realised my camera roll from those shows wasn’t of clothes at all, but close-ups of hair. The jewelled clips at Luar, the sculptural headpieces at Area. It felt like a revival of the hair moments from the runways of the 90s. I needed a place to archive those images for myself, and Capelli was born.

What does the word Capelli mean?

Camille Marcolini-Mésenge: I’m French–Italian, and capelli is simply the Italian word for ‘hair’. But I love that it’s plural – in English it flattens to a singular, but in Italian it speaks to the many strands, the many people, and the many stories hair carries.

Where or how do you find the pictures that you post?

Camille Marcolini-Mésenge: Today nearly 40 per cent come from submissions, which is the real joy of this community for me. I feel privileged to share them. The rest are collected personally from what I see on the streets and hours of scouring the internet. I look for stories and feelings associated with hair more so than aesthetics, I’d say.

A lot of your posts are of long hair. Why are you drawn to this?

Camille Marcolini-Mésenge: It’s funny, because I’m drawn to all kinds of different hair moments and stories, but long hair always seems to get the most love. So there’s always this balance I’m working with – what I’m personally interested in, what people submit, and what the audience responds to most.

Why do you think people are so fascinated by long hair?

Camille Marcolini-Mésenge: Maybe because when you look at the length, you really feel the years? Long hair resists the instant, it demands patience, persistence and care becoming a living record of time.

Long hair resists the instant, it demands patience, persistence and care becoming a living record of time

What’s your favourite hair photograph?

Camille Marcolini-Mésenge: It’s impossible to choose only one – every image resonates differently depending on who’s looking. But recently I received a submission I can’t stop thinking about: a braid, freshly cut, clipped to a carabiner and worn as a bag accessory, like a Labubu. It belonged to the best friend of the woman who submitted it. She cut her hair on a whim, but before letting it go she thought of who would understand it most – her best friend. She gave her the braid, and the friend instantly understood the weight of the gesture, so much so that she fashioned it into an accessory she now carries around with her.

For me, that’s everything: sacred, emotional, punk and perfect. It also echoes much older traditions of keeping hair as keepsakes – infant locks tucked into books, Victorian mourning jewelry, braids woven into wreaths. Hair doesn’t decay, so it’s always been used as a kind of living relic, a way of holding someone close. There’s something so touching, and a quite radical, about carrying someone with you in that way.

A lot of your posts are of people in pairs. How does hair bond us?

Camille Marcolini-Mésenge: Hair is deeply social I feel. It’s brushed by grandmothers, braided by friends and cut by strangers. And there’s nothing quite like your hair being stroked by someone you love. It’s intimate and connective in a way words can’t quite touch.

Who is your ultimate hair inspiration?

Camille Marcolini-Mésenge: The archive itself. The beauty is in its multiplicity – renaissance portraits, street snapshots, braids, texture, wet, salt-stiff beach hair. It’s the dialogue between them that excites me, more than any single figure could.

Which hairstyle trend do you secretly wish would return?

Camille Marcolini-Mésenge: I’m not big on trends in general but I’ll admit I’m vicariously nostalgic for the bold and sculptural hair from the 70s and 80s. More architecture, less replication.

What’s the most unforgettable hairstyle you’ve ever seen?

Camille Marcolini-Mésenge: I’m continually struck by the work of Mustafa Yanaz. He doesn’t just style hair, he sculpts it. His approach feels architectural: hair that inhabits space, frames faces, and tells stories. The volumes are unexpected, the curves both weightless and precise, sometimes liquid, sometimes rigid.