As I’m a product of the city who’s lived in many cities, I can tell you that when it comes to Black people, we have many things that are different. But a lot more of it is the same. Going for my morning walk up the Boulevard I came across a discarded cluster of blondish and brown hair extensions just a few inches from the garbage can where they could have been disposed of properly. This multi-colored menagerie could have just as easily belonged to a Ghanian nurse working at the hospital down the way as it might with some 19 year-old stripper who decided to cut what was hers into a red bob and save her scalp the tension.
In case I ever doubted it, the weave is here to stay.
As the war against the perm started off as a guerrilla insurgency that has started to become an international movement. Black women are always going to want a change, to do something different with their hair. I remember once, while talking to an ex with beautiful short hair, about the wigs she was shopping for, she explained to me that “Women need changes. Sometimes they just want to be something different.” In a society moving at 100 terabytes per second, there’s no time to grow it the way you want it. By hey, even the great queens of Africa were known for adding a piece here and there to rock a different look.
It’s just funny how it’s so easy to find these shed skins on the street, Halloween costumes stuffed in cans on November the 1st. Their owners want to leave no trace of what they had once been, so that they can remade once more, as someone else.
As a dude I can’t run my fingers through them necessarily, and the cheaper ones have made my bare skin itch. But in comparison to harsh chemicals that scorch and leave patches bald for life, extensions and weaves are probably the better alternative. Beauty always has its risks. Isn’t that why we value it so much?