Nappy routes

I don’t know how my sister does it. Her kitchen is impeccable.  And by kitchen, I mean the hair that resides at the nape of your neck – often the nappiest and most unruly.  The other kitchen is spared most days, partial as she is to eating out. 

I’m not trying to have it all, but a stronger hair instinct would be nice.  Don’t get me wrong, if you met me and my coif, you would probably think I’m playing at the edges of hair dysmorphia.  Sure, my hair looks fine (most days), but I’m an absentee stylist.  My hair benefits from the regular care of a very patient hair stylist and a very strong chemical relaxer.  But, I don’t have the same kind of hair instinct that my sister has.  She recently mentioned dry shampoo as a must-have and I looked at her like she was suggesting that I start eating space ice cream on a regular basis. 

I’m not the only one fascinated with my sister’s gift for hair whispering.  Early on, I realized that if I didn’t want to observe the holiest of black hair days, Saturday, by spending my entire day at the salon, my best bet for a weekend of good hair was to sit at my sister’s vanity table for 30 minutes instead.  At some point during the “appointment,” our father could be counted on to wander in with his camera to document the process.  Thankfully, this was before social media  – otherwise, I would be contending with an electronic record of all sorts of unfortunate hair phases – the pink foam curler enhanced bangs; the mushroom cut; and the “angular” cut that was really an expensive mullet. 

From time to time, namely post-[insert ex’s name here] I’ve toyed with cutting it all off and rocking some sort of mini-Afro. And then I remember that my father and I bear a strong resemblance to one another, both physically and sartorially. The last thing I need is to show up at another family gathering wearing not only the same polo shirt, but same haircut.  Adoration of one’s father should only go so far.  

I haven’t seen Chris Rock’s film, Good Hair, but I appreciate the title.  One day, my hair and I will reach a Nirvana-like understanding.  Until then, it may be time to ask my sister if she’ll consider reinstating our standing weekend appointment. Our father is welcome to join us, but he’ll have to check his camera at the door.       

-Ara Tucker, 2013