Freedom is found within the black hair salon. If we’re being honest, you walk in looking rough—wig off, hair tied up, bonnet on. It’s the only place other than the comfort of your own home where that behavior is socially acceptable.
You’ve been there for about two and a half hours and no one’s even touched your head. It’s fine though, because you have stacks on stacks of hair magazines to flip through and all your girls are here for company. Maybe they’re getting their hair done, maybe they’re here involuntarily. Either way, this is an all-day affair.
There’s only one rule: don’t even bother to show up if you’re tender-headed. Your curls and coils are combed with the largest teeth, scrubbed with the longest nails, and burned with the hottest irons.
Around 1 pm a woman (a savior, really) takes orders for the Jamacian restaurant next door, curing everyone of their lunchtime crankiness. How she fits all the orders on that tiny slip of paper is beyond me.
Soon, the salon smells of beef patties, coco bread, oxtail and rice and peas. With appetites satisfied, the jewelry man stops by with his latest finds. He’s smart because you can’t run away when your butt’s glued to a styling chair.
Black hair salons are probably the reason the magazine industry is going out of business as the gossip is better—and free. Topics of conversation probably include: your neighbors, the latest family relationship scandal and opinions on celebrities, while the only person who gets a good wrap is the Holy Trinity.
All the while BET plays in the background. By day’s end you’ve probably watched Boyz n the Hood, Friday and Baby Boy, among others, three times.
In the end, it’s all worth it when the styling chair swivels around to slowly reveal your brand new look in the mirror. Remember, if anyone asks if that’s your real hair, it is— because you paid for it.
You not only look better, but you feel better, ready to take on the world, because you know there’s women rooting for you. There’s women that’ll be there, ready to comb out the kinks again, when the world tangles you up again.
Words: Hannah Harris
Photography: Lance Langel
Creative Director/Stylist: Morgan Daniel
Models: Tamia Haskins, Taylor Elam, Kaitlyn Brown
Makeup Artist: Taylor Petrone