What started as a minor personal revulsion for weave as a result of most Black women increasingly seeking for beauty refuge under the hair of others has become a daily headache for me, as I cannot escape the glorification of weaves anywhere on this planet…
I acknowledge the sense of security, self-esteem and the deluded concept of beauty derived by almost all Black women from wearing throw-away or sold out hair of other people—-as if those who are cutting their hair are stupid not to know their hair is the definition of beauty. That is, if it really has such a character!
From floor sweeping weaves to the short cut ones, men are forced to complement Black women for snubbing their own unique hair to wear the lost hair of others. And the way some Black women present themselves by “exalting” their fake hair makes you wonder what would happen to their existence if all of a sudden those cutting their hair for them stop doing so.
Of course that will not happen because some Black women would self imprison themselves behind doors—as their pride and beauty would have been completely eroded. And we don’t want to see an era of self-degeneration of Black women.
I recently had a lunch meeting with a friend I’ve not seen in 4 years and apart from leaving the place having eaten a plate of Chinese noodles full of her hair, I could not just ignore the many times she kept touching her hair. Did I say her hair? That was some long weave discarded by some poor girl in India, Cambodia or Mongolia—and here she was sitting at a posh suburb of London, priding herself with it as if she had just be crowned the BEST by wearing that weave.
Some years back, I used to randomly count who is hiding under a fake hair but if I decide to count today, I know I would not be able to approach it the same way; it would rather be, who is not wearing a fake hair. Every Black woman who can afford, as well as those who cannot afford have managed to put on a weave—and have sharply redefined beauty inline with the long hair standard of others.
Sometimes, if the touching does not upset and turn whatever meeting you are having with a Black woman into an informal hair fair—pray she does not lean towards you as some of these weaves are badly maintained, with all manner of smell running out of them.
I guess the world of weaves must be getting cheaper as everyone is wearing them today, including the 16 year old twin girls I saw at a Church service I recently attended in North London. And for them, theirs were thick and went straight down their waist. I was shocked to have seen young girls being defined this way and when I was told they were the daughters of the presiding pastor, I couldn’t resist shaking my head. Then I shouted; Hallelujah, I know how the Church money is being used.
I love confident women and I believe most men do too but surely, a confident woman does not have her source of confidence as germinating from a weave she bought from some shop, donated by some ignorant worshipers somewhere in the world—that is if she is lucky not to have purchased those stolen from corpse to meet the increasing demand.
We’ve all heard the lame argument which contradicts “self-determination”, that; men love the weave standard of beauty and as such women are somewhat compelled to go in for them. Of course, men love a lot of things and I surely do not see women doing them all.
I am not sure when beauty was totally redefined to mirror the appearance of others, such that, Black women have to hate themselves and spend high amounts to re-shape their appearance to look like the new set image of beauty.
From a little afar, I am recently unable to see who is a Black sister and who is a Pakistani or Indian when I visit Upton Park in East London. They all rock the same hair, same texture and same length.
It is annoying enough to be sitting in front of a Black woman wearing a long horse weave but I cannot stretch enough the disgust it sends down the vein if she continues to touch this weave—every second of her life.
Get over it and stop touching that hair woman, it surely isn’t yours!
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