Curl Culture

Mop. Frizzy. Messy. Bedhead. Unkept. Unmanageable. Ugly.

Growing up, those were all words used by others, as well as myself, to describe my hair. When the style is to have straight, blonde hair, it is hard to come to terms with having curls. I didn't even know I had curly hair until I was like 17.

Probably because I actually had straight-ish hair until I hit middle school.

When I was in 7th grade, my hair started to become very frizzy. At the time the style was pin-straight blonde hair and I simply did not match the criteria. My father bought me my first flatiron and tried to help me get it as straight as possible. Since my dad was, well a man with short hair, he was only able to help so much.

Nevertheless, I appreciated his showing me links to different YouTube videos and wikihow tutorials.

My mother on the other hand had some experience. Not the right experience, but I can't really blame her as she had grown up in the big hair era of the 80's. I do however blame her for the hair I inherited.

Maybe not in a religious sense, but heritage-wise my mother is Jewish. Or 'Jew-ish' as Julian Edelman would put it. Between my Italian father and Jewish mother, both my brother and I got wacked with the hair stick.

After coming home crying enough times about being made fun of at school for my 'frizzy, untamed mop of a head,' she asked if I wanted to get a keratin treatment at the salon that she goes to. She explained that a keratin treatment would chemically straighten my hair. I remember being so relieved. My grandmother had actually paid for the treatment as my 13th birthday. It was $250, not including tip, to have my hair "permanently" straight and flat. Mazel tov!

Unfortunately, it did close to nothing. It took the frizz out of my hair, but the waves stayed strong. I had put so much time and research into hair care, and different ways to style my hair, that I actually took a liking to it after two years.

I decided to go to a vocational high school and enroll in the cosmetology program so that I could graduate with my license.

Now before I start bashing my school and my training I need to give a disclaimer. My program was one of the best in the state. I had been given the necessary education to pass my state board exam and be granted a cosmetology license prior to turning 18 and graduating. The program taught me things I use in my everyday life in both my daily grooming as well as my career. I do not regret my decision to take this path.

There are two things I remember vividly about my freshman year. One was that the school, as a new method of torture, forced all students to partake in swim class. Mine was four days a week, first period, for an entire term. Now I don't know your experience, dear reader, with curly hair and a swimming pool, but I'll tell you mine.

Spoiler alert! It was not good.

As the day went on, and the pool water dried out of my hair, it slowly began to grow. By the end of the day, my hair would be a full on afro. I couldn't even get a hair elastic in it half the time without it snapping. My peers had started to refer to my hair as a 'Chia pet' or a 'Jewfro'.

Oh and I forgot to mention! I was 5' 8' when I was a freshman. So imagine this tall, lanky, frizzy haired, bobblehead looking girl, walking around saying she wants to be a hairdresser.

Just for reference here is a photo of me sometime last year. My hair is much longer than it was in high school but, this is roughly how it looked by my last period class.

At one point, a student asked the teacher to change my set because, and I quote, "I can't see the board through that lion's mane."

Secondly, I remember my first week in Cosmo. The teacher had the eighteen of us pair up and each partner had to flatiron the other's hair.

Can you hear my eyes rolling?

I was paired up with the only guy in the group to which I immediately started to protest. Now listen, I know guys can be in the trade and that plenty of the highly regarded professionals in the cosmetology field are men. I don't think your gender has anything to do with your ability to do hair. I do, however, think your experience has something to do with it. It was this poor child's first time straightening hair ever.

When I tell you it took all day, I mean it actually took four hours. I wasn't allowed to go to lunch that day because the teachers thought he might not have enough time to finish and it was a graded assignment. Eventually, the teacher let another student help him so that it could be finished in time.

Wasn't embarrassing at all.

Also, the first week someone had to curl my hair and it broke the iron. Like the spring clamp could no longer close fully. I have no idea how it happened but, the girl who had to spend another $60 on an iron, wasn't very happy.

Regardless, I did learn a lot from that program. I learned how to cut, color, perm, style, sanitize; the whole shebang. Yet, never once did I learn how to style natural curls, or how to cut them, or what products to use. Once again, the school taught us to pass the state board exam and all eighteen of us did.

Still I graduated not knowing how to style my own natural hair.

When I graduated school, I had a fulltime job at a salon that I loved. I was so excited to put my knowledge to the test and learn more about my trade. The only thing was that I still couldn't do my own hair at the time.

In this photo, I am a licensed cosmetologist with not even an inkling on how to style curly hair. There is something wrong with that. The system should not be directed towards those with straight sleek hair. If an education is going to be provided it should be well-rounded and teach to all hair types, not just one.

It took a worldwide pandemic for me to finally learn how to style my natural hair. Now, I wear my curls proudly at work, with friends and at family gatherings. At a recent bridal shower, my aunt, who also got her cosmetology license, asked me how long it took to curl my hair with such a small iron. When I told her it was natural I could see her jaw drop even through her mask.

My grandmother wears her curls naturally and so does my mother. It has little to do with anything other than convenience for them both, but for me it has become more than that. It is taking something that used to make me insecure and using it as a way to draw confidence.

My hair had sent me on one hell of a journey and it isn't over yet. I am in love with my hair now and that is something that has taken half my life to be able to say.