|My mom in the 70’s|
Hello my lovlies! Today I’m sipping on a sweet and smooth cinnamon dolce iced coffee with a hint of cream from Starbucks and sharing one of my post form 2013 about some of the practices my mom used for caring for my hair when I was a child. I love this post because it brings me back to the 90’s when my mom use to buy this huge tub of Apple scented shampoo from Sally’s Beauty Supply and she would spend all day doing my hair, my sisters hair and if she had any energy left in that slender body of hers she would suck it up and do her own. Yep, I use to love getting my hair done! I always felt like I could be anything I wanted to be with a different hairstyle, it was as if my identity had changed with every cool hairstyle, a transformation so to speak. Some days, when she was exhausted, she would just make a part down the middle and french braid each side. Not exactly my favorite style but it was quick and simple.
With the upcoming mother’s day, I thought it was fitting to repost this piece I wrote in 2013 about some of the things I’ve learned from straying away from my moms haircare practices.
The older I get and the deeper I delve into this journey of natural hair and its many wonders, I find myself reverting back to the old haircare practices of none other than my mother. I think back to when I use to sit on the floor in the living room while she plaited my hair down with various oils and pink lotion; she use to buy the jumbo bright pink squirt bottle with the bold black writing, I know you guys remember that. Any who, it was more than just her doing my hair, it was our mother-daughter bonding time, time for us to talk about how school went, what’s for dinner, what I wanted for Christmas, what dress she bought for my sister and I for Sunday service because she never missed a Sunday service.
Even though I dreaded wash day, there was a special feeling I got knowing my hair would be prim and proper, put together for me to mess up again at recess and while I still dread wash day to this day, at a young age, I remember thinking to myself: This woman won’t quit! Every week she’s putting some barrette or ribbon or bow in my hair; not knowing that my mother possessed a sense of pride in her little girls. She knew we were a representation of her and this meant representing her well. To her, a great deal of motherhood meant making sure her little girls were well kept and to this day I maintain this same attitude. While I have no children yet, and I am much older now and obviously do my own hair, I find myself reverting back to the hair care practices of childhood, oiling my scalp, plaiting my hair down, keeping it twisted for days on end and if I’m feeling real eclectic, wearing a little bow or clip to ease my boredom with protective styling.
Getting off track and steering away from her practices has taught me a few things:
- Heat is not exactly my best friend
- Oil is a natural girls savior
- The bows and ribbons she put in my hair were not so bad after all
- When in doubt, braid or twist it up
I’ve come to realize that momma was right after all. I also think back and remember my many hair catastrophes when I was experimenting with color, straight styles and different haircuts. Every time something went array I came running back to my momma for comfort and hair care advice and she just sat me down and said “let me do your hair.” She worked her magic and things were right again until the next hair faux pas. I know now that my mom’s tactics were not at all what they seemed; they were faithful, tried and true, and if I have a little girl, I’ll be right there to say “let me do your hair.”
That’s All Folks!