#i already hate walking into ulta to get to the salon but now i know sometimes they just wont be there and no one told you

[warlordfelwinter]

you ever only realize your mental state was resting entirely on a single thing when that single thing falls through

[thesagechronicles]

Dear Shea Moisture, 

A couple of years ago, I wrote a piece about my natural hair journey. After watching your recent ad, I think this would be a great time to revisit it. It went a little something like this:

“Growing up, my mom always did my hair. I had the bubbles, the clips, the pigtails, the beads, the fish pigtails, (you know, one in the front of yo head and another in the back lol), braids, twists, bantu knots (better known as chiney bumps to Jamaicans). I had them all. Then my mom started to take me to her friend who braided my hair. I love the lady, but she is where my problems started. I guess once she got tired of having to do my “difficult to manage hair” she told my mom to put a kiddy perm in it so it would be easier to do. And my mom listened. I was only 8. So of course that much chemicals in my hair at such a young age, was a complete disaster. My mom only did it for about a year and then stopped. She started braiding my hair again, this time with extensions, so that my hair had protection and time to grow. Once I got to middle school, I began developing a deep sense of hate for my hair. Whenever I wore my hair out, it was above my shoulders and that for me was too short. I considered myself “bald headed”. I was actually called that too by other girls in my school. Even if I had in box braids, I was still teased for being “bald” because girls who had “good hair” didn’t wear fake hair. Of course I was obsessed with having long hair because that’s all that I saw around me. So I started to get blow outs. At this time, my hair was healthy and thick. But that didn’t last for long because it began breaking due to excessive heat and also because of the cotton scarves and hats I constantly wore. Because of that combined with the fact that every time I went to a salon, to get my hair done, stylists would make rude remarks and consistently tell me and my mother that I needed a perm, I returned back to getting them. By my own choice this time. I was 14.

My hair began falling out and in the back of my head, the hair was pretty non existent. You could literally see through my hair because it was thinning so bad. I became extremely insecure about my hair at this time. I absolutely HATED it. I would look in the mirror and just be completely disgusted. I cried A LOT. My mom, after seeing how damaged my hair was getting, took me to a Black hair care professional. She was the first Black stylist I ever went to (besides for braids). She immediately told me that my hair was over processed, which meant my previous stylist was perming my ends which is a BIG no no. Her name was Shirley and she saved my life lol. She literally nursed my hair back to health after a drastic cut (I was still getting perms). But I was still not completely happy with the thinness of my hair. So before junior year, I got a weave! My confidence was beginning to blossom when I started wearing weaves even though it wasn’t my hair. I think weaves really changed the way I thought about myself and my hair. After my first weave I stopped perming my hair. I was between weaves and braids for the next 2 years. My hair did a complete 180 and grew back really strong. When I first took out my weave and braids after 2 years, I found that I was still insecure. I still didn’t want to wash my hair in a salon because of fear of what other people would think about my natural shrinkage. I was even afraid to display my fro in front of friends and family! I thought people would only see me as nappy headed, which was negative to me. But then once I started to witness the natural hair movement and girls with hair like mine, I was so touched. Suddenly I was like “fuck this! my hair is beautiful!”. And for the first time I actually believed it. I am 20 now and I have just began embracing my natural hair. It gets tough sometimes. Most of the time I just want to rip it out and cut it off but I look back at this crazy journey and I am so proud of myself. I really think it takes time as a Black girl to learn to love your hair because there are so many people that tell you it’s ugly. We see it in movies, shows, and on magazines. We hear it from kids at school, from our own family members, our own mothers, and our own Black men. But there’s gonna be a time when you just have to tune out everyone for the sake of your own sanity. Because we “don’t have hair” when we wear weave, we’re “ghetto” when we wear braids, we’re “ugly” when we wear our natural hair, and we’re “trying to be white” when we perm our hair. We’ll never be enough for them, but who gives a shit? We have to be enough for ourselves. That’s all that matters.”

As you can see, Shea Moisture, my natural hair journey has not been a pretty one, like most Black girls. And after experiencing what I have experienced and what so many of us Black women have experienced, I am completely perplexed to how you could ever think that our “hair hate” is equal to the “hair hate” of three white women with straight, blonde and red hair. White women, who are seen as the pinnacle of beauty around the globe. I did not take you for a tone deaf, reckless, and irresponsible company. I thought that Black hair companies like you would be more than aware of white beauty standards in this country and how they are directly responsible for the internalized hatred of black features. But you are not.

You probably already know this, but Black women make up the biggest percentage of your consumers. We built you. We sustain you. Yet with this ad, you sent a clear message. We are secondary to you. We are an after thought. And I know what you were probably thinking when you casted the light skin woman with 3c curls. Diversity! amirite?! No. All you did was feed into the colorism and the hierarchy in the natural hair community. That model you chose did absolutely nothing for the Black women with 4c hair (like myself) and dark skin. 

But I guess I should have known better huh? I’ve walked into Target, Walgreens, and Walmart and I have seen your products up and down the aisles. I cannot say the same for companies like Aunt Jackie. I guess you really succeeded when you made it out of the the hair aisles in our local beauty supplies to ULTA. And maybe I should have known something was up when you started that #BreaktheWall campaign. Or maybe I should have known when you sold your company. I really should have known when nonblack friends were posting your products on snapchat for “wash day”. 

What’s even more disappointing about this ordeal, is that when shit hit the fan, you showed your true colors. 

You backed a misogynoiristic man who victim blamed Black women for their own assaults. Nice job. I bet your founder, Sofi Tucker, is turning in her grave.

I see what you’re doing. You’re not just expanding your market, your replacing your core foundation. We’ve got the message loud and clear. 

Continue centering white women and preaching that #allhairhatematters bullshit. But Black women are done with being erased and we are no longer sitting around and waiting for anyone to acknowledge, accredit, or validate us. 

In the iconic and legendary words of Robin Stokes, “a white woman can have your sorry ass”. And black woman will not be there when you come looking for us.

Sincerely,

                An angry Black woman. 

(above image taken from forharriet.com)