the Black girl urge to secure beads with aluminum foil 🙂↔️
I used to hate getting my hair done as a kid. I'm sure my mom hated having to do it. Between wild sleeping and playing around outside, some styles wouldn't last beyond two days. I got my first relaxer at age 7 and remember singing along to the theme song "Just for Me." The relaxer changed my hair texture (for the worse) but was supposed to make my hair “manageable,” “appropriate,” "good." It took years to find joy in my braids, afros, and twist-outs—years to find joy in how my hair naturally defies expectation and gravity.