I am in what a family member called "paralysis analysis". After my second big chop in late April, I can't decide what to do next. I'm waying the pros and cons to cutting my hair all off. I'm talking short short ala Solange Knowles. I'm so stuck in my decision making that I'm not doing anything. Meanwhile apparently my new hair makes me look <gasp> even younger. Today at the library with my kids I got hit on by what must have been a high schooler. No, I'm thinking younger than that. Middle school, the boy was unsure whether I was his age or not.
Big deal. It's just hair. Cut it off, Mia. Worse case scenario, it's ugly and it grows back. It's the research that throws me. 450$ sister locks? Monthly hair dresser appointment? Product galore? Doesn't sound very natural to me.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Why?
Why this blog? Well, I was thinking about my hair- maybe a little too much, but on a day when I'm not working and the kids are in school, the random thoughts start flowing. As much fun as talking to myself is, writing my thoughts down would be even better. That’s just how it works with writers.
It started back in 1999 when I was in college inSeattle
It was late and some friends and I had just come back into the dorm from someplace we had wandered off too. You walk through the doors of Xavier and you pass the living room area where there's the big screen TV that's always on and often even with people watching it. There was a music channel on and a musician (who I hadn't heard of then and haven't heard of since) was being interviewed. She had completely shaved her head and was saying she did it because she was tired of people judging her. She wasn't being judged based off of her music which was good or bad but based off of how she looked, how cute she was in relation to her hair style. Years later India Arie said it best, "I am not my hair." Back then this unknown musician chose to prove that statement by shaving her head bald. I immediately thought, "She's right!"
I had decided even before the words left my mouth, "I should cut my hair."
My friends being the loving, encouraging folks they were, said, "Let's do it!"
And the search was on, wandering the dorm, knocking on doors, trying to find a guy who had some clippers he'd let us use. We finally found one who volunteered his equipment, quickly giving us a brief overview of the appropriate guards to use. Now, I was raised around a ton of women. What I knew about was perms and flat irons, what the heck is a guard and why on earth would you need it? The guards got tossed to the side, the scissors came out, clip, clip, clip, or rather more like chop chop. Someone used the clippers on the back of my head shaving it completely bald rather than just short (aha! That’s what guards are for!). Chop chop, some more off the top and voila, my new hairdo.
Not quite what I had envisioned (not sure what that was) and not anywhere near as short as the musicians (maybe I chickened out after having the back of my head shaved bald?), but I felt empowered just the same. And there it was, the word. Empowered. I am my own person. I can do (almost) anything I want. Why would such a simple act feel so powerful? As females, we always say, oh we don't care what other people think of us. I'm an individual, independent, my own person ruled by nobody else. Except for most of us that's not really true. The truth is we do care what people think of us, our friends, our parents, our teachers and ladies lets not forget MEN. 9 times out of 10 we are not doing our hair any kind of way for any reason except cus maybe some hot thing will think we look good that way. Any action we take that says, or even better screams, "Hey! I don't care what you think of me!!" feels good. Typing this now, this sounds a lot like rebellion, maybe the stage I missed in high school creeped up to me in college, but I don't think so. I think the relationship between black women and their hair is way more than that.
I recently emailed my cousin, "I'm trying to go natural, now what?" she wrote back, "It's a spiritual journey, the whole process. Enjoy it." So, I guess this blog, is a part of me trying to share it and “enjoy it."
It started back in 1999 when I was in college in
It was late and some friends and I had just come back into the dorm from someplace we had wandered off too. You walk through the doors of Xavier and you pass the living room area where there's the big screen TV that's always on and often even with people watching it. There was a music channel on and a musician (who I hadn't heard of then and haven't heard of since) was being interviewed. She had completely shaved her head and was saying she did it because she was tired of people judging her. She wasn't being judged based off of her music which was good or bad but based off of how she looked, how cute she was in relation to her hair style. Years later India Arie said it best, "I am not my hair." Back then this unknown musician chose to prove that statement by shaving her head bald. I immediately thought, "She's right!"
I had decided even before the words left my mouth, "I should cut my hair."
My friends being the loving, encouraging folks they were, said, "Let's do it!"
And the search was on, wandering the dorm, knocking on doors, trying to find a guy who had some clippers he'd let us use. We finally found one who volunteered his equipment, quickly giving us a brief overview of the appropriate guards to use. Now, I was raised around a ton of women. What I knew about was perms and flat irons, what the heck is a guard and why on earth would you need it? The guards got tossed to the side, the scissors came out, clip, clip, clip, or rather more like chop chop. Someone used the clippers on the back of my head shaving it completely bald rather than just short (aha! That’s what guards are for!). Chop chop, some more off the top and voila, my new hairdo.
Not quite what I had envisioned (not sure what that was) and not anywhere near as short as the musicians (maybe I chickened out after having the back of my head shaved bald?), but I felt empowered just the same. And there it was, the word. Empowered. I am my own person. I can do (almost) anything I want. Why would such a simple act feel so powerful? As females, we always say, oh we don't care what other people think of us. I'm an individual, independent, my own person ruled by nobody else. Except for most of us that's not really true. The truth is we do care what people think of us, our friends, our parents, our teachers and ladies lets not forget MEN. 9 times out of 10 we are not doing our hair any kind of way for any reason except cus maybe some hot thing will think we look good that way. Any action we take that says, or even better screams, "Hey! I don't care what you think of me!!" feels good. Typing this now, this sounds a lot like rebellion, maybe the stage I missed in high school creeped up to me in college, but I don't think so. I think the relationship between black women and their hair is way more than that.
I recently emailed my cousin, "I'm trying to go natural, now what?" she wrote back, "It's a spiritual journey, the whole process. Enjoy it." So, I guess this blog, is a part of me trying to share it and “enjoy it."
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)