Showing posts with label hair. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hair. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

An Off-Duty Cop Shoots a Gunman While Getting Her Hair Done in Brooklyn!

Urban Chameleon Spotlight

The New York Times recently covered the story of an off-duty police officer who was getting her done when a gunman entered looking to rob the salon. After the gunman ordered the four ladies present into the bathroom, officer Ferris Jones took control of the situation. She came out of the bathroom with her gun drawn and identified herself as a police officer, the gunman still opened fire. Officer Ferris Jones fired back, which resulted in a gunshot wound to the gunman’s hand. After breaking through the front door, the gunman exited. Police later found him at a local hotel after following a trail of blood from his wound.

The article rightfully commends Officer Ferris Jones for her act of duty, but we here at HOTUC would like to acknowledge the officer for her Urban Chameleon duty.

This woman went from beauty shop to Robo cop in an instant. Although the article doesn’t quite explain why officer Ferris Jones didn’t go after the gunman, I think it’s safe to assume she needed to finish with her hair appointment; she was off duty. Bravo, Officer Ferris Jones! And might I add…the hair looks fabulous! You’re our Urban Chameleon pick of the day.

read full article on nytimes.com

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Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Sesame Street Song: I love My Hair

by today's Urban Chameleon contributor

The ABC program with Diane Sawyer discussing how and why the new Black puppet on Sesame street singing about her hair came about seems to have also brought on some controversy. The head writer, Joey Mazzarino wrote the song in response to his adopted daughter from Ethiopia complaining about her hair not being beautiful. One commentary wrote, “It took a white man to bring attention to this?”

Black girls (and women for that matter) feeling insecure about their nappy heads has been an issue that has been around for centuries. However, centuries ago white men weren’t adapting Black babies to be raised in a loving home, at least not publicly, where they could be hip to this issue. I cannot recall another time where there was such sensational buzz about Black girls and their hair that had this much cross over appeal. The pattern of irony is that some issues take the right time, right context and yes, right person in order for the light to shed.

Click link for ABC Special

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZYTG9wwJE5k


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Friday, April 2, 2010

The Misperceptions About Africa: It’s a Continent Not a Country People

by today's Urban Chameleon contributor
Anonymous


















So imagine this. You, in all your “power to the people”, “back to the motherland” “I’m embracing my African roots” glory, decide to take a trip to Ghana for a study abroad program. You are excited to finally leave America, for the first time, and really learn about your roots and your African brothers and sisters and taste true West African soil. You tell everyone who will listen how excited you are to be leaving the over commercialized country that is the United States of America and return to the motherland where all is pure and natural. You get rid of all your designer clothes, because they really don’t care about labels over there. You cut off your perm (yes, your long ass hair that you’ve been growing since you were twelve) because they are not weak enough to succumb to the temptation of “creamy crack” back in the motherland. Cell phone, gone. Designer purses, don’t need them. Those cute nine-west boots, bye bye. You wave goodbye to America one last time from you seat on the plane. Then, you sit back, relax and prepare yourself for your 14 hour flight to Ghana.

Fourteen hours later, you get off the plane and walk onto the tarmac at Kotoka International Airport. You are dying to kiss the ground. You are so happy to finally be there. And then you walk into the airport and WHAAM..wait…what…was that...no…no…no did some girl speaking in Akan just walk by in a perfect Beyonce weave with apple-bottom jeans and boots with the fur. There goes another one rocking a cute Rihanna-like bob and skinny designer jeans tucked into a pair of mid-calf Ugs…yes Ugs. As you pass person after person, rocking the latest in what you consider “American fashion” and not a one has a fro or is wrapped in Kente cloth, you are getting angrier and angrier because you gave up all your stuff for NOTHING.

So the above is a true story. I laugh as I write it. The same way I laughed my butt off when my classmate came back from Ghana genuinely upset about the lack of “African-ness” in Ghana and how she couldn’t believe she cut her hair and gave up all her stuff for that. I probably shouldn’t have laughed. In fact, I probably should have clued her in before her trip that the Dolce & Gabana purse I had that she admired so much was a gift from my mom purchased in a mall in Abuja, Nigeria. I should have probably mentioned that half the hip hop, R&B, Pop CDs I owned at the time were purchased while I was home in West Africa for the holidays. But far be it for me to burst her bubble.

A different person might have been offended or put off by my classmate’s misperceptions of Africans but I guess having grown up the way I did I was just used to it. I was used to having to explain to people that Africa is a continent not a country, that I don’t speak “African” because that language doesn’t exist, that I didn’t grow up in a mud hut but actually lived in a nice house with running water and real functioning toilets (imagine that!). And don’t get it twisted, these misperceptions (which is my nice way of avoiding saying ignorance) are not unique to African Americans. I encountered the same issues in England, France…pretty much wherever I went.

Interestingly enough, being a Nigerian raised both in the U.S. and in West Africa, I noticed the opposite was true as well. Some Africans had equally misguided perceptions about African Americans. To them, anyone or anything that came from the States was “better”, “amazing”, “the best”. I remember, I came home to West Africa from school in England one summer and there was a new guy in town. He was all my friends could talk about. He’d moved there from Washington DC and had all the latest clothes, and hip hop CDs and drove a Nissan SUV. For the longest time I didn’t even know his real name because everyone simply referred to him as Da Rula (as in The Ruler, The King, The Bomb). Seriously people? Da Rula? All because he came from the States, had flashy stuff and some swag? Never mind that you could probably find the same CDs, jeans, etc….here at a local market for a third of the price (ok fine maybe not the street-side local market but you could find it somewhere – like at the mall). Never mind that your parents all had BMW’s or Mercedes compared to his Nissan (not to knock Nissan because I drive a Murano now and love it). None of that mattered because he was Da Rula so everything he had was just better just because he was from the United States. The irony of our disconnect.

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Sunday, February 21, 2010

New African Discoveries

Urban Chameleon moment of the Day

by Funnel Cake

Today I wore a pair of jeans that a friend of mine lent me. When I went to reach into the back pocket to pull out the Metrocard I had earlier shoved down there out came something that appeared to be strangling my means of transportation. It was a piece of hairweave. I immediately knew how the piece of hairweave had gotten there with out ever having had a conversation with anyone about this subject matter.

I could already image the scenario now from the last time my girlfriend wore these jeans:

Friend out at a social event and goes to adjust her hair only to realize that apiece is loose. She quickly yanks it out before anyone can notice and stuffs it into the back of her jean pocket where I have now come to discover it.

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Saturday, December 19, 2009

Say It Loud (Keep it Short and Proud) in GQ

Urban Chameleon news

Writer Knox Robinson talks about a Black man's hair in this month's GQ

From Black Panther Afros to Iverson braids, rebellious hair has long been a quick way for a black man in America to make a strong statement. But as the formerly dreadlocked author learned, a new era calls for a more retro cut

I was dreaming deliriously on a flight back from Accra, Ghana, when I heard a woman's voice telling me to cut my hair. Even now I don't consider the whisper to have been a side effect of the undiagnosed malaria that landed me in a Brooklyn hospital two days later; I'd had dreads for fourteen years—they were down to my waist—and swore I'd never chop them for love or money. So I figured if they ever had to go, it would be the result of sudden mystical transmission.

I cut my hair soon after I landed. I was at the start of my thirties and dutifully undergoing the transitions of that age—the arrival of a son, new career moves. With a radically new appearance, I felt distinctly like a man who'd escaped through the back door of a burning building and used the second chance to set out on a completely new path. Old acquaintances stared right past me on the train, and at parties women who once denied my advances wondered who I was.

There's an élan to a tight cut I hadn't considered before; it's a throwback to an era of debonair brothers in the '50s and '60s, from Miles Davis to Sidney Poitier to Malcolm X. I didn't quite get that as a young dread; even those venerated icons seem like establishment figures when you're just starting out, so I took cues from '90s-era conscious rappers and old Bob Marley pics. I never was a cornrows guy, but Allen Iverson's braids served as a generational signpost for me.

Yet that era is over as surely as my own quarter-life crisis is behind me. We're now experiencing a restoration of black cosmopolitan glamour last witnessed fifty years ago, and the guys who define that sensibility are dudes like Usain Bolt, Lewis Hamilton, LeBron James, and yes, Obama. I see their close-cropped hair as marks of men singularly focused not on rebellion but on changing the game, or more acutely: results. It's hair for the man with a job to do rather than a comment to make.

Of course, it took work for me to find a rhythm; I was in the barber's chair every ten days, getting science on dark Caesars (No. 2 clippers all the way around), skin fades (No. 2 on top fading to clean-shaven sides), and lining—that is, debating whether my hairline should be sharp or natural. (I kept it natural.) But mainly my short hair led to new possibilities of personal style. Soon enough I fell into wearing suits and picked up vintage British looks on Portobello Road, dead-stock Dior in the East Village, and all-black-everything Comme des Garçons at Hejfina on trips to Chicago.

I now wear a suit every day of the week and sometimes on Saturdays. Today a three-piece feels less like a George Jefferson sight gag and more like a suit of armor, and I get a charge knowing that my son will remember me picking him up from grade school, understanding that his father has been handling business. Last year I saw I was heading for a rough patch, and I grew my hair and beard out in preparation for what I thought would be a long walk in the wilderness. When I realized how bad things were truly getting, however, I wheeled into a barbershop and took it all the way down. I wanted to be ready.—knox robinson

Source from www.gq.com

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Wednesday, November 4, 2009

From Relaxed to Natural In A Day

by today's Urban Chameleon contributor

It's very common that most Black women who've grown up around-the-way and who get their hair done have experienced at least a fight or two in the salon.

As an around-the-way girl who now works on Wall Street I still go back to Queens every two weeks to get the hair done. This past Sunday marked my bi-monthly appointment and there I was in the salon buried in my normal reading material of the Wall Street Journal after of course catching up on the gossip magazines when all of a sudden I hear, "Bitch call my man one more time and I'm setting this entire muthf*ka on fire!" I look up and to my surprise a petite white woman is in the door way of the salon rocking some Vercase shades, door knocker earrings, sporting some f*k'em gurl red nail polish that I only noticed because her hot red finger was pointing right at my hair dresser.

Now the first thing I thought was wow regentrification, how nice, but upon second thought after re-evaluating the situation of how gangsta this white women rolled up in here it was clear that she's a native not someone who had been priced out of Manhattan looking to save a buck to be reinvested back in her 401k. Naturally my hair dresser had to step away from putting in the rest of my relaxer to handle her business which resulted in fingers be thrown in the other ones face with some back and forth chest shoving. You know the kind of shoving, pre-fight, people do where technically no one has thrown the first hit but trying to provoke the other one to. Normally I would have been engrossed to see where this climax was leading for it had been years since I had witnessed a salon fight but being that it was me with the relaxer in my hair I could not afford to roll up to work Monday morning balled because of my hairdresser's drama. Plus the real problem is that Darlene was hanging onto the rest of the relaxer that needed to be put in my hair. So instead I called out, "Darlene it's not even worth it girl just walk away." But we all know it takes more than that to hold back a heated women who just got called out. If I could have only gotten the relaxer out of Darlene's hands to finish putting it in my hair myself I would have been cool but by this point it was being used as a weapon as she then flung it into the girl's face and a fight was on.

I was so damn mad plus the relaxer that was already in my hair was starting to burn. I looked around to see if there was another hairdresser I could grab but everyone was of course in it. Evidently I was going to have to take matters into my own hands so I ran to the sink to wash my hair out myself. By the time I patted my hair dry the two women were finally pulled apart, the white girl into her friend's car and Darlene was off to cuss out the man who caused her such drama on the lord's day. Meanwhile I was patting my hair dry with a towel only to unveil a disaster. My hair was part straight and part nappy. I was heated. Now that the commotion was over my jacked up hair became the new center of attention with every women in there looking at me like I was a freak show.I was supposed to be pitching to a new client tomorrow and could not be showing up with my hair looking confused. There was only one thing to do in this kind of situation, I needed a WEAVE! and quickly. Luckily the customer of another hairdresser in the salon felt so bad for me she let me cut in. Ladies you know how it is and how long a day at the salon takes so for somebody to be jumping you is HUGE! The problem is the only weaves in the salon was the big Afro hair. Now to be real I have nothing against natural hair but I was not sure if Wall Street was ready. However, it was better than my current train wreck of a situation.

Monday morning comes and I'm on the 2 train to Chambers with the suits and already getting the stares. I walk directly to my cubicle to begin prepping the documents for our pitch meeting when my white boss, Jared, comes from behind me, "Excuse me miss can I help you?"

CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS MOFO!? I seriously had to take a deep breath before turning around and responding,

"Hey Jared, just printing out the updated documents."

"Ohmigod I didn't recognize you, did you do something with your hair?"

Now I wanted to say, "Yea muthaf*ker, after my hairdresser burned this white girl with the rest of my relaxer I decided to go natural. How was your weekend?"

But instead I calmly responded, "You know us women, always trying something new."

Do you know this jackass had a nerve to first say, "Wow, wow, wow" (yea three times) "Ok I just wish it wasn't SO new before this meeting."

It took more deeper breaths to keep myself from leaping on top of his ass and beating his ass down. To make a longer story short. I close the damn deal AND the client wanted to make sure I would be the point person on the account. Therefore Jared can kiss my natural Black ass...however when my hair grows back a new stylist will be relaxing my hair.

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Monday, November 2, 2009

Chris Rock’s Good Hair…Internalized Racism or the Beauty Industry?

by today's Urban Chameleon contributor

A group of us gals went to check out Chris Rock’s film Good Hair this past weekend, which surprisingly sparked interesting debates.

I say "surprisingly" because after 30ty sumptin’ years of being Black, a woman and living with hair I went into this film thinking there is nothing new that could possibly arise in conversation.


I expected to chuckle at Rock’s commentary and every now and then throw the movie screen a little church affirmation, “Hmm hmm.” Although I should have known better because Black women can always conjure up a new variation of the discussion around hair, it’s in our DNA. But how about Oprah’s recent interview with Chris Rock about “Good hair” and opening up the conversation to now include white women who color their hair blond. Is this to say we’ve all suffered the same oppression? Really?

There is no doubt about it that all women are oppressed by the beauty industry, not matter what race most try to achieve some level of unachievable beauty. But let’s not allow this to convolute the issues because Black hair is and will always be its OWN issue. It’s tied to our lineage and the battle between us and our hair is a reflection of racism from WAY BACK, slave days, way before a beauty industry even existed and the truth is we’ve internalized it.


A girlfriend of mine argued that she didn’t feel like we initially began straightening our hair to look white but rather it was about being able to manage our hair. But isn’t the idea of “managing” a colloquial term? Why does Black hair have to be managed?


My Dominican friend was even telling me how when a baby is born into the family the women all ask, “How’s the hair?” Meaning is it nappy or the good hair, the kind that blows in the wind.


One guy recently told me that his family would look at him crazy if he brought home a girl with locks.

There is no doubt that a large number of the Black community still judges you on your hair type and length- could internalized racism not be more clear? However I wonder if the beauty industry and maybe even Oprah help to disguise this for like the “N” word over time we forget history and find new meaning.


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Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Zahara Jolie-Pitt and the Politics of Uncombed Hair

Urban Chameleon news

Newsweek

by Allison Samuels

A few years ago when actress Angelina Jolie announced she’d be adopting a 6-month-old girl from Africa, I had mixed emotions. I’ve always thought Jolie was one of the flyest chicks in the Hollywood game, but interracial adoptions can be a tricky thing no matter how fly you are.

I’d heard the horror stories around Hollywood about the adopted black children of white movie stars becoming incredibly confused about their backgrounds. For instance, during an interview with Oprah Winfrey a few years ago; Tom Cruise said his interracial son, Conner, was not a color, so the family didn’t discuss race.

Nice sentiment, but in the real world Conner is considered black. If not Cruise, then someone else will point that reality out to Connor with little hesitation. This is one major reason there has been such a hot national debate over interracial adoptions. The fear is that non-African-American parents won’t be able to raise black children with an understanding of who they are and what that means in mainstream society. Such an understanding is just as imperative as shelter and food if the child is to survive and thrive.

Up until recently, Angelina Jolie seemed to be doing a pretty decent job with Zahara Jolie Pitt—providing essential and expensive medical care, purchasing land in Zahara’s native Ethiopia with the plan to build a health center, providing a life of adventure and opportunity. Wonderful things indeed, but lately it seems Angelina has taken a page out of Tom Cruise’s book—and it all comes down to Zahara’s hair.

It’s no secret that black women and their hair have always had a very complicated relationship. In a society that values fine facial features and long silky, straight hair, African-Americans' sometimes kinky, fragile, and unruly hair can be the bane of a black woman’s existence if she allows it.

Hair is often the first thing others notice, be it the texture, length, fullness, or shine. In the African-American community it can also tell a story. It can indicate your background, lineage, and social standing. From slavery until today, skin color and hair texture played a large part in how the overall society viewed blacks and ultimately the way African-Americans saw themselves.

So a black woman has two options: either submit to damaging relaxers and hot combs, or keep hair natural—while still ensuring that it’s well conditioned, well combed, and in place. There are many legacies of black hair in America, but the most enduring is this: even those who eschew pursuing European-looking hair still take a tremendous amount of pride in looking well groomed and put together, and still need to devote time and energy to achieve this effect.

It’s no wonder that African-American women are the largest consumers of hair products, spending close to a billion dollars each year to control their hair. These same women passed down these perceived notions about hair to their daughters. They usually begin hot combing and braiding the child’s hair to take the kink out at an early age.

But even the mothers who spare the hot comb still have to put time and effort into keeping hair healthy: Any self-respecting black mother knows that she must comb, oil, and brush her daughter’s hair every night. This prevents the hair from matting up, drying out, and breaking off. It also prevents any older relatives from asking them why you’re neglecting your child and letting her run around looking like a wild woman. Having well-managed hair is not just about style, it’s about pride, dignity, and self-respect. Keeping your daughter’s hair neat is an unspoken rule of parental duties that everyone in the community recognizes and respects.
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Hair that is nice, neat, and cared for also gives African-American girls the confidence that they can fit into the world at large without being seen as completely different. One truism of childhood is that nothing is more important than being like everyone else. Well, as like everyone else as you can be with Hollywood parents. But not all people will recognize Zahara as the child of movie royalty. To many, she’ll be just a black little girl—and a black girl with bad hair at that.

In recent pictures it's clear Angelina Jolie hasn’t taken the time to learn or understand the long and painful history of African-American women and hair. If she had I can’t imagine she would continue to allow Zahara to look like she has in the past few months. Photos of Zahara show the 4-year-old girl sporting hair that is wild and unstyled, uncombed and dry. Basically: a “hot mess.’’

African American blogs and forums such as Media Takeout, Black Hair Media and even mainstream outlets like TMZ have been on fire the past few weeks demanding to know why Angelina won’t just comb Zahara’s hair? Each blog receives hundreds of e-mails every time they run a picture of the little girl with her hair uncombed. "I just hope that they realize she has different hair needs and find someone black who can keep her hair looking good,” said a commenter on Bossip.com. "Angie, if you can’t comb hair then get someone who can. This is ridiculous now. Your hair is always in place and so is Shiloh’s. Why does Zahara have to always look like she just woke up?" writes a commenter on TheFabLife.com.

This is not to say that critics want Angelina to perm or hot comb Zahara's hair. Not that 4-year-old African-American girls don't get their hair hot combed. I certainly did every Saturday for Sunday morning church. Instead, the majority of those writing in to the blogs say they just want Angelina to brush and oil the little girl's hair so it will be healthy and in shape.

Elaine Jones of the blog Womanist Musings says she’s been amazed at the number of angry e-mails directed at Jolie on this issue. “I mean I don’t deny Zahara could look better, but readers seemed to be mad that Angelina seems to have such little regard for something blacks consider sacred,” says Jones. "They act as though they take it personally that Zahara’s hair looks so bad and think it’s embarrassing for all black people. I think they expected more from Angelina.’’


Lisa Brown, a 35-year-old secretary from Dayton, Ohio, says she felt compelled to comment online about Zahara’s hair because she’s followed Zahara since the day Angelina brought her home.

“It just hurts my heart because I know that little girl won’t be even able to look at her baby pictures without being perplexed at how she looks and why,’’ says Brown. “She doesn’t know any better now, but she will once she gets into school and sees other little girls that look like her with combed and neat hair. She’s going to feel like the odd man out.’’

Brown says she worries that the little girl will one day resent her adopted mother.

“It would be a shame but not surprising,’’ says Brown. “Why adopt her if you’re not going to do your best to raise her to be confident and fulfilled. Other cultures might think this is petty, but trust me it isn’t for a young black girl.’’

In sharp contrast, Madonna, who adopted a little African girl earlier this year from Malawi, makes sure her daughter’s hair is either braided with beads or bows. Recent photos show the little girl modeling neatly done cornrows with white beads at the bottom—a la Venus and Serena Williams.

If Jolie needed even more inspiration, all she has to do is look toward the White House. First daughters Malia and Sasha don’t have stick-straight hair, but they do have their hair done in varying styles from day to day. Malia favors simple twists on her natural hair that allow her to run, swim, and play without worrying her hair will revert (puff up or kink up). Youngest daughter Sasha either wears her hair in braids, a ponytail, or loose curls.

In fairness, Jolie did hire Beyonce’s hairdresser Kim Kimble a few years back to care for Zahara’s hair, (a bit of overkill if you ask me—particularly since Beyonce mostly wears wigs and weaves) and Pitt has even said in interviews that they use Carol’s Daughter, a black hair-care line. But it seems the constant travel the family’s been doing over the past year has put issues like grooming on the back burner. For the record, Jolie’ daughter Shiloh isn’t exactly looking like much time is being given to her hair either. But she isn’t a little black girl being judged by mainstream standards.

There are those who say there is nothing wrong with Zahara’s hair at all, that her hair is in its natural state and that’s just fine. I say natural hair---afro, dreads, etc. is fine, if it’s maintained regularly or when the child is old enough to make that decision for herself. Until then, the child’s parents are responsible for their general care and upkeep. Zahara is not even old enough to know that her hair looks dry and damaged as it stands straight up on her head. But there will come a day when this beautiful little African girl will understand what it means to be an African-American woman in this society and realize unlike her younger sister, hers is not a wash-and-go world.

source Newsweek

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Are Black Barbies Finally Black?

Urban Chameleon news

Growing up I wasn't allowed to play with white dolls for my mom didn't want me to idolize their beauty. So instead I had Huggie Bean and other dolls that she made where the hair was yarn to even look like locks. I saw what she meant witnessing self hatred comments that girls around my way would spit at each other, "Well at least my hair ain't nappy" and "You so Black you look like burnt toast" before returning to combing their white Barbie doll's hair for another three hours.

Well does Mattel after all these years finally address the problem? Hmmmm, you be the judge...

Mattel announced today their introduction of new Black Barbie dolls. The new dolls have fuller lips, a wider nose, more distinct cheekbones and curlier hair. Deemed the “So In Style” line, or S.I.S, the line features Kara, Trichelle and Grace who are three best friends in tune with fashion, fun and music.

Each doll features its own unique personality and style and

reflects one of three various skin tones. The line also features a mentoring theme and each doll comes with her little sister. The big and little doll is set to inspire mentoring in the young girls who play with them.






link to other photos and full article on hiphopwired


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Friday, May 8, 2009

Traveling back to the ‘Hood to Get Ur Hair Done

by today’s Urban Chameleon contributor

Some Urban Chameleon, thrive off the cosmopolitan lifestyle of having moved to the city and able to walk home after those power lunches or to the suburbs for peace and serenity or in some other cases some Urban Chameleons have been victims of regentrified
neighborhoods pushing away their cultural goodies . Regardless of how far from the hood you’ve moved or the hood has moved from you, I guarantee most of you UC’s are re-visiting that 1hr to 2hr commute when it comes to your hair.

This was me yesterday traveling back to Flatbush Brooklyn, which I guess is not as nearly as bad as some of my girlfriends who travel from NYC to Washington DC to get their hair done. I was exploring getting a new hair style, the curly afro, but needed somebody tight to hook it up. My regular girl is good for other type of styles but wanted to try someone new for the new doo, which can be terrifying for a UC.


I did a week of referral research and finally landed on Empress Zakitisha Afro Hair Care, a Jamaican woman on Utica and Winthrop. Not only did this commute entail the #4 train to the last stop but then a 10min dollar cab.


Definition of Dollar cab: an African or Caribbean’s hoopty that drives up and down the main boulevard packing as many people in as he can for a dollar. Except with inflation the “dollar cab” has risen to $1.50.


The irony of the location was that it was a block away from my regular girl who I couldn’t dare let see me.

My plan was to jet out of work early but still needed to get back home to see if my hair weave had arrived from UPS. Part of my research also entailed finding the best looking natural afro hair piece from this spot in Houston, TX that a girlfriend of mine told me about. It was 3:30PM, I decided to leave the office now and go home to pick up the hair, which ego wouldn’t have allowed me to have shipped to the office. Now instead of looking like I left work THAT early, I just decided to take the sleep mode off of my computer so it looked like I just briefly stepped away. Normally I would be conscious of the environment but a sista still needed to keep her job and still get her hair done. When I got home I was in luck and my hair weave was right there waiting for me. I hurried back to the office and pretended to jump back to work. Then after waiting 45min I quickly gathered my things, spun my chair around to look like I just got up, which I figured would give me at least 10min and slipped out.


I brought a book to read on the train so the ride didn’t feel that long, it still did. When I arrived at Empress Zakitisha shop, the woman I assumed to be Zakitisha quickly brushed past me and shouted at the man from across the street to bring her back some ackee and saltfish (a traditional Jamaican dish). When she came back into her shop she quickly flashed me a customer service smile and said “Have a seat. Soon come.” After growing up with a Jamaican father I know that “Soon come” doesn’t mean anything close to that she will be with me soon. So I got comfortable as she was working on another woman. Luckily there didn’t seem to be anybody else waiting for people like these don’t take no appointments, you just gotta wait and even when they do get to you they’re doing your hair and 4 and 5 other heads at the same time--juggling that money, can’t knock the hustle. She didn’t get to me soon but sooner that “soon come.” While doing my hair people started to trickle in and then the hair shop conversations started. No matter how many times I’ve gotten my hair done over the years the conversations always end up on how we as Black people need to get it together as a race but this one turned into something more …uuuhm …new. A Rastafarian decked out in red gold and green entered the shop to sell some weed before lighting one up. He then began to pontificate about man and woman (which is always an interesting perspective from a Rastafarian). I had dozed off from the convo having no interest in the patriarchal spew either that or high from contact but was then startled by the sound of a big Black woman shouting back at the Rastafarian, “SHOW ME WHERE IN THE BIBLE IT SAYS WOMEN SHOULD NOT HAVE A CLITORIS?!”


Rastafarian: “Women don’t NEED clitoris."


Big Black woman: “I am telling you from someone with a clitoris I NEED my clitoris”


The conversation progressed for 45min as the Rasta continued to support his argument from quotes from Jah Rastafari Selassie I and I could not but help to wonder if Selassie I had ever intended for his movement to be centered around the clitoris.













As I sat back and continued to get my hair done, I thought to myself, damn I miss the ‘hood.



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