They were clinging to stick-straight wigs or ones with looser textures than the kinks that were underneath. Early in the pandemic, in March of 2020 at the height of the "Don't Rush" challenge, I noticed that many (obviously, not all!) of the Black women who revealed their "glam" looks didn't wear their natural hair. Acceptable to whom? Why do we recoil at fuzzy edges or the tight little coils that spring up at the back of our head when we sweat out our straightened kinks? Those features are ours.īlack women have come very far in embracing their natural textures but, at least to me, it's clear that many of us are still holding on to living up to a standard that excludes us. Our hair doesn't lay down for a reason, yet we have been told it is only acceptable if it does. It is a standard and a mindset that many Black people have unconsciously internalized, whether it's an aunt telling you to straighten your hair before a job interview to increase your chances of getting hired, or it's Chris Brown proudly proclaiming in a song that he only likes Black women (not the word he used) with "nice hair."įor hundreds of years, Black people have been hurting themselves with lye, hot combs, and myriad other tools and chemicals to get their hair to do what it ultimately doesn't want to do. You know, the hair type that has for centuries been dismissed as unattractive, unprofessional, or something so tempting to white men, it should be covered up. While having sleek, slicked-down hair that is "in place" can be an innocuous style choice (one that I, too, have chosen for myself), it's no secret it's a look that takes a lot more effort to achieve when you have naturally Afro-textured hair. While the style is often perceived differently when seen on a Black person (as opposed to a non-Black social media influencer copying the look), it is a technique that is has become a tradition of Black people, particularly in the Western world.
It's a testament to the creative prowess of our community. Laid edges, at this point, are pretty much a tried-and-true art form of Black hair. All this in the name of fitting a beauty standard that was not made with us in mind. It's the preliminary studies that suggest the chemicals in relaxers could affect Black women's physical health. It's the breakage Black models say they have suffered over the years due to hairstylists who don't know how to work with their hair texture. The video of her trying to loosen her strands brings up a question I've asked myself time and time again: Why do Black women have to go through so much pain to style their hair? It's more than just a little burn from a hot comb or someone getting a little too vigorous when they're detangling - it's the sparse hairline that comes with laying your edges too often. She expressed that she still hopes she can get her hair unstuck without having to buzz it. "You can't even get a razor under there." Not that she wants to. Brown isn't even able to shave her hair off. But the clowning has since largely turned into concern. Of course, she "felt a type of way" about the ridicule she was getting for her mistake. "My ponytail kept getting tighter and tighter." She says she didn't know what to do after a month of trying to wash out the glue and that's why she went to social media. She said she was feeling "a little better." She spoke a bit about what her hair felt like when the glue started to set. On Monday, February 8, Brown did a call-in interview on Toronto's Kiss 92.5 Roz & Mocha Show to update us all.
"My hair," she responds, her voice swelling with matter-of-fact exasperation. "Stiff where?" she asks, invoking that now-viral internet meme of a young girl playing in a bob wig. It's clear that she is a woman who invests in her appearance. In the video, Brown's large, round eyes are heavily lined and her mile-long lashes curve up and out to the side - her makeup is reminiscent of the '60s glamour Diana Ross exuded.
Her carefully sculpted swoops were frozen in time, an unpleasant reminder of the mistake she had made. Her edges, which as many Black women can attest are quick to come undone with the most minimal disruption, showed no sign of loosening, even as she rubbed her hands over the area. At that point, Brown says she'd washed her hair 15 times and it absolutely wouldn't budge. Her hair, almost like an action figure's, was fused completely to her scalp after she substituted a can of Gorilla Glue Spray for her usual Got 2b Glued Blasting Freezing Spray - an actual hairspray - to finish off the sleek style. On February 4, Louisiana-based TikToker Tessica Brown posted a video showing the world that her hair had been stuck in the same, slicked-down ponytail style for a month.
0 kommentar(er)
