As time went on, my spending maxed out at $500 for hair extensions. I had graduated from the corner beauty supply to hair directly imported from India or China. And thank goodness! Over time I'd grown a strong aversion to Beauty Supply Stores (BSS). BSS owners are they only people who come into America dirt poor, feed off the wealth of the black community like leeches, while being completely repulsed and offensive towards the community whose dollars make them very wealthy. The only business owners that treat every one of their paying customers like convicted thieves.
The Chinese hair companies are one of the few groups who can monopolizes the supply of the products that are sold (weaves, wigs and hair products) from the top of the distribution chain in China, so that non-Asians are completely forbidden from operating in their industry. A black person without an Asian business front isn't even allowed to order from the companies who make the wigs or weaves sold to their own people. The only two black owned beauty supplies that I've ever known of were forced out of business when the Chinese suppliers found out they were really black owned.
In addition to my aversion for the Chinese business empire, I hated the notion that I wasn't beautiful with what God gave me. Sure, I'm not a bad looking girl. But in the age of Beyonce and Kim K, could the world, and more important, COULD I find beauty in the tresses that God gave me???
From the time I was a girl, I'd been told I had "coarse" hair. As young as age 10, I would go to a salon for a chemical relaxer. The lesson I learned early was that I wasn't pretty 'as is'. I needed to do something 'with' my hair to make it 'presentable'. I should alter it with chemicals, or cover it up completely with weaves and wigs. But on its on it was short, coarse, brittle, damaged and not a source of pride.
And my hair was humidity-adverse. Women with straighten hair (via pressing comb or perm) are like the wicked witch of the West, in real life. "We are allergic to water, it makes us melt!!!!" What's a girl to do when she loves the feel of doing laps in a refreshing pool on a hot summer day? Everyone knows that swimming caps aren't really waterproof. I learned THIS lesson the hard way.
At the age of 13, I attended a church sleepover at the YMCA. I was given strict instruction by my mom not to get my hair wet because I had just come from the hair salon and had my hair straightened. I was comfortable obeying her instruction until my childhood crush got in the pool and was joined by girls with "good" wavy hair. I stood in the shallow end, seething all alone. I decided to find my courage. I must have been playing Jay-Z & Lenny Kravitz's "Storm" in my mind, because I clearly thought, "I can walk through water and not get wet.... I'm that FRESH!!!!" I jumped into the deep end with a press and curl and climbed out Little Florida Evans. I was so embarrassed, I called my mom to pick me up early and cried in the back seat all the way home.
Thankfully, my love for swimming didn't sink. But only with the help of a sew in, could a girl with kinky hair like me dive into the ocean and come out swinging long tendrils like Ariel in the little Mermaid, and not knots and coils balled up tighter than fists at a Black Panther Rally.
By the age of 24 I was tired of running. I was tired of buying someone else's hair. I was tired of buying into the false beauty standards. I begin to fight my acceptance of this self-hatred, I sought out help from a stylist in Chicago. Arik began showing me how to care for my own hair and nurture it with organic products from Biostrand and Aveda. But first he cut it all off. I was distraught. The only thing worst than having damaged "coarse" hair, was having NO HAIR AT ALL. I wore wigs for months on end.
By the age of 24 I was tired of running. I was tired of buying someone else's hair. I was tired of buying into the false beauty standards. I begin to fight my acceptance of this self-hatred, I sought out help from a stylist in Chicago. Arik began showing me how to care for my own hair and nurture it with organic products from Biostrand and Aveda. But first he cut it all off. I was distraught. The only thing worst than having damaged "coarse" hair, was having NO HAIR AT ALL. I wore wigs for months on end.
As my hair grew back, these products and more a nurturing regimen changed my hair from the coarse, damaged, brittle mess to a head full of beautiful little curls that were as soft, healthy, strong and spring as they were the day I was born. After all of this time, my hair had been abused at my own hands! The very hair I wanted -- long, strong, shiny and soft-- was waiting for me to claim it. It was waiting for me to stop covering it with tangly, matted, fake looking weaves. My crowning glory was waiting for me to learn how to moisturize it, treasure it, and retain its length.
During the last two years of my journey, I've decided not to use heat, combs, brushes, shampoo, products with cones, sulfates, mineral oil, parabens and alcohol. I've learned how to care for my tender curls from information that I'd never heard of three years ago. I'm comfortable in my new skin, and I love how my hair grazes the middle of my back when straighten... or sits atop my head in coily ringlets.
I truly have a head of crowning glory!
I truly have a head of crowning glory!
I am excited, but still perplexed. Why come (yes, WHY COME) they don't teach little black girls HOW to care for their own hair? Why do companies only sell lye products to straighten it, products that are anti-humectant to lock the moisture out, spritz and gels full of alcohol to suck the moisture out ? Why do we pay stylist or buy Hot Tools curling irons to fry our hair to death with heat so hot the natural pattern is burned out? Why has no one ever took the time to see what makes black hair tick and how to make it look its best? Does no one give a damn about the beauty that black women are capable of naturally? Why have we been sold this egregious lie that our hair can't grow to the middle of our back?These lies are keeping us slave to a system that thrives from our ignorance.
What eats me up the most, is when I see 10, 12, 14, 16 year old girls at the bus stop or on the train with dry, short, heat-damaged horseshoes (the part of the weave that leaves out their own hair) and then cheap, matted or tangled weave plastered on the rest of their head. Why don't they know? Why won't someone take them all to the nearest auditorium and sit them down and teach them the truth about THEIR hair. It breaks my heart, that our young girls look on tv and for the most part all of the black women are reinforcing the standard of beauty as $700 weaves, that these little girls fail miserably to duplicate. Who will free them????
P.S. From time to time I get weak, and my insecurities creep back in and my laziness causes me to take the shortcut to long, shiny tresses. But my shortcut is short-lived. After a few weeks of wearing someone else's curls, I walk past the mirror, and long for the beauty that is all mine.
In actuality, I'm not opposed to wearing weaves or extensions, they can actually serve as a protective style for giving your real hair a break. However, I AM opposed to being a slave to them. I believe they should be an option, like a hat. And most important, your hair should be loved, maintained and treasured underneath, in the interim.
(no heat, flexi-rod set)
(blow dryed, and silked)
This was an amazing read girl!
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