wardrobe wednesday…

creamy crack2

On a continuous struggle to convince myself not to perm my hair again, I conclude that the creamy crack is truly addictive. And I didn’t wake up and decide to embrace my inner black woman. No, I was weaving it up! I was a red head then I went blonde.

The blonde looked nice on my complextion and I lightened it a little more. Peroxide at home was not my friend. I remember washing my hair thinking, “my weave ponytail is gonna be fierce.” I started blown drying my bright yellow hair and each time a little more hair either came out with the brush, or I was able to see so many short pieces, where my hair wasn’t short.

In a moments notice, I had scissors in my hand and I was whacking away. Before I knew it my hair was as short as a 6 month old. I’d always had decent hair, so I can not explain why I was so into weave in the first place. Maybe it was the versatility that it allowed so frequently being able to switch it out like jeans or heels.

Or that the weave was more climate controllable than my own kinky, quick to swell hair was. I realize the comfort, ease, and beauty of additional hair pieces and creamy crack. If I wasn’t forced into the natural lifestyle I can’t say that this would even have been a discussion for me.

But, now that I am here, I love being able to tell people my hair routine. How I got here, how the rough season is behind me, and that it wasn’t always easy. I was told in the early stages that I looked like Countess Vaughn, from her days on 227! Ouch…

But now that I am at the cute hair stage again, women ask me all the time “are you natural” or “If I can get my hair like that.”  I feel good that I have been creamy crack clean for 3 years now, even though I have my “I’m about to get a fix” moments.  But then I consider trying to eat healthy, and exercising and cleaning up the environment, and why shouldn’t I extend that same concern to my tresses…

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