Maria Sotiriou: “People are drawn to you when you don’t allow them to influence how you feel about yourself”
The SILKE London founder on love stories, different experiences and the power of hair
Hi, welcome back to Mixed Messages! Apologies there was no newsletter last week, I had some unexpected news (nothing bad!) This week I’m speaking to SILKE London founder Maria Sotiriou, who is of mixed Jamaican and Greek heritage. Maria founded the haircare brand inspired by the hair wrapping methods of her Caribbean heritage, and it was a joy to hear her parents’ love story and how that influenced both her career and her take on life. Read Maria’s story below.
How do you define your heritage?
Mixed-heritage is how I describe myself. I know there’s lots of different descriptions, but that’s what I roll with. My mum was Greek Cypriot and my father was quite mixed. He was born in Jamaica, which has influences from outside, like Spanish. My dad’s mother had a German father and a mixed Jamaican mother, then my father had a mixed mother and a Jamaican father, who I was told had a mix of South American Spanish too.
How did your parents meet?
They met when my dad came to England as an aircraft engineer and rented a room in my mum’s house. She fell in love with him. He was taken in by the family into the Greek Cypriot way of life and my grandmother would cook for him – he never had that in Jamaica, that’s why he left.
Him and my mum used to meet in secret in the early 1960s, but when they were found out my mum’s family sent her away to Cyprus, even though they loved my father. It was different back then. My parents used to write love letters to each other and my dad said ‘I’m going to buy us a house and send a ticket for you.’ That’s what he did – she came back secretly, they lived together and then the family just moved on from it.
My mum says her mother was a progressive thinker at that time. She could see her daughter was in love, so it was accepted. My [paternal] grandmother wasn’t best pleased that my mother was white, so it was on both sides. It’s crazy that some families don’t accept it now, it feels archaic, like time has almost stood still.
Did you grow up with a Jamaican cultural influence at home?
Because we grew up with my mum’s big Greek family, that was our reality. My father left Jamaica because he didn’t have a good relationship with his mum. That’s why I think the warmth of my mother’s family drew him in when he moved to the UK.
My dad didn’t distance himself from his Jamaican culture, but I think it was less of a headache. He wanted us to feel safe and secure. My mum was adamant that we had my dad’s food and that we’d go on holiday to Jamaica, where she’d immerse us in the culture. She was ahead of her time.
Did you ever speak to your family about being mixed?
I don’t think we ever did. We used to have a conversation if something had happened. My sister is slightly darker than me and she came up against more prejudice. That’s when my parents would step in and reassure her. But it wasn’t really a thing to sit and talk about it.
My mum told me that my grandmother thought I was ‘too white,’ even though she was mixed-heritage. She would never talk about her German heritage or her father, so there was something going on there. She thought of herself as a complete Jamaican woman. It’s quite complicated how we all feel differently and experience such different things.
With my children, we don’t really talk about being mixed, but they’re so proud of being Jamaican and talk about their grandfather all the time.
You seem very confident in who you are – has that always been the case?
I’ve always been confident. A big part of it is my parents, their connection and respect for each other’s cultures. Growing up, I was so assured that their bond was my safe space.
There were moments – I was called [a derogatory term for a mixed person] at school. Also with my hair, when you grow up you want the fashionable styles, but curly, frizzy hair wasn’t the thing. My mum did her best to manage. But I always knew I could go home to my parents and I wouldn’t worry about it too much.
I sometimes feel slightly guilty – I know how much people suffer not growing up with a solid identity, so I wonder if I’m ignoring or forgetting things that happened to me. I do remember moments at Greek weddings where people would stare, people whispering ‘is that her dad’ in Greek. I turned around and said ‘yes, that’s my father!’
I was in awe of the way he held himself and how he broke down barriers. My mum was steadfast, she didn’t care what people thought. Sometimes when you show you don't care, people are more interested to know you. When you don’t allow people to influence how you feel about yourself, they’re drawn to you.
Tell me about SILKE London – what’s your relationship been like with hair over time?
I cared a lot about hair from a very young age. It’s one of my first memories. Hair is an emotional thing. My brother used to tease me terribly, asking why my hair didn’t look like people on the TV. That was really hurtful.
I used to stare at girls’ hair all the time. When flicks were the fashion, I wanted them. Many of my mum’s family were hairstylists, but they couldn’t do my hair, so my mum used to take me to my uncle’s salon once a week where his wife would put my hair in rollers to try and control it.
Years later, my cousin – also a hairstylist – showed me how to do my hair. I thought ‘wow, he made me feel amazing,’ so when he opened a salon I joined and I was hairdressing for 37 years.
Even though I had all the products, my hair was still dry and kept breaking and I realised the damage was happening while I was asleep. Being of mixed-heritage, I was aware that a lot of Black women wrap their hair at night, so I started playing around with silk prototypes. The difference was phenomenal. At first, salons laughed at me, saying the wraps were old fashioned. Now, I’ve built the brand with my daughter.
A lot of people I interview say being mixed has made them more empathetic – does that ring true for you?
Very much so. I’m a very emotional person, and I love seeing mixed couples. Every part of me wills them to succeed in bringing up their families and their children growing to be whole people. When I was born, I came across children who were mixed but they had so many issues. That’s upsetting to me, because being mixed is not the cause. I want mixed children to do well and feel whole and complete and know who they are.
There is sometimes an assumption that interracial families are broken – someone was once surprised that my parents are still together.
That’s why when I talk about my parents, I say it was a love story to the end. I make it quite clear, they made a success of their life together. I come in quick with that. Hopefully things are getting better. When I go to church, there are so many mixed children there and it warms my insides.
What’s the best thing about being mixed for you?
I love understanding my dad’s culture. I walked past a group of Jamaicans on the way here with thick Jamaican accents and it warmed my soul – it transported me to Jamaica. I’m blessed to have two heritages. It’s unique, I’m very thankful.
How would you sum up your mixed identity in a word?
From my soul, I feel blessed.
Next week I’ll be speaking to presenter and Clean Curls founder Sarah-Jane Crawford. Subscribe to get Mixed Messages in your inbox on Monday.
Enjoy Mixed Messages? Support me on Ko-Fi! Your donations, which can start from £3, help me pay for the transcription software needed to keep this newsletter weekly, as well as special treats for subscribers. I also earn a small amount of commission (at no extra cost to you) on any purchases made through my Bookshop.org and Amazon affiliate links.
Mixed Messages is a weekly exploration of the mixed-race experience, from me, Isabella Silvers. My mom is Punjabi (by way of East Africa) and my dad is white British, but finding my place between these two cultures hasn’t always been easy. That’s why I started Mixed Messages, where each week I’ll speak to a prominent mixed voice to delve into what it really feels like to be mixed.