I Am My Hair Phase Three: Braid My Hair

Braids. My favourite of all time – braids are my self-preservation hairstyle. Self preservation of my hair against the windy winters; self-preservation of my humility and having new conversations because the best braids I’ve ever done, have been at the dodgiest hair salons – the tin containers on the side of the streets in Mdantsane; the living room at Svig’s house up the road from my house, the taxi rank in Cape Town, the Swazi owned hair salon opposite the Nigerian restaurant where I would wolf down Naija cuisine in downtown Joburg. These are the places where I would have the most insightful conversations about people and their lives. There’s something about being at a hair salon that gets tongues wagging and after an entire day spent listening to dramatic tale after dramatic tale, I would go home fully sated – with my hair and the knowledge (or gossip) I’d gained. My most recent braided hairstyle is the one I have now – a wild and big Afro-ish mess of hair which, everytime I have down, brings out my inner diva…makes me wanna put on a pair of skinnies, wifebeater and heels and strut down to the hottest party to get down with my girls; or do like Lil’ Wayne (there he is again) and tell you off like he does Al Sharpton in ‘Don’t Get it.’ My wild braids bring out my inner B…the chutzpah I’d toned down to earth with my small twist locks that were my in-between hairstyles hairstyle.

So I think, ultimately I believe that I am my hair – not in the sense of ‘making me a better friend or person’ as Ms India.Arie challenges in her song, but in the sense of the things my hairstyles teach about me; the experiences I have when I adorn them (which are ALL very different) and the different shades of ME I discover with each style I choose to define (or find definition) by.