The Hair Story

I keep saying that I'm going to write about my locks, but just like maintaining them, it seems to take too much time.  Unlike my locks, I usually give up and end up saving the draft for a while.  So here it goes, the story of my hair...

I decided to lock my hair a little over 8 years ago.  I had gone through just about every style at that point.  Natural cornrows, extensions, partial weaves, relaxers, afros, almost bald, I even have a small collection of wigs.  Leggs still plays with the wigs from time to time, but thats a whole nother story.  The point is, I've tried it all.  In fact one of my traits, as voted on by my high school class mates, was my ever changing hair.  I saw Bubba this week and we were talking about how we both basically look the same as we always did.  I say, "well except for the locks." and he replies, "oh please, your hair was always changing."  

I started freshman year in college with a layered chin length bob (relaxed hair) came back from Christmas break with micro cornrows in the front and a curly afro weave in the back and in ended freshman year with a super short relaxed style a la early Toni Braxton or Halle.  I think that was the fourth of fifth style that I tried my freshman year, including a brief flirtation with some silky locks.

Sophomore year I returned with a 2 inch afro.  It grew, it shrunk, it constantly changed colors, sometimes it was braided, sometimes it was blown out.  I did everything with my hair that year partially cause Hautey was dating a kick ass stylist at the time and would give me a mayjah discount cause he was banging my sisty.  I stayed in New York to take a full time job my Junior year, and thats when I first thought about locking my hair.  It didn't happen because I was working at a Bank and my boyfriend at the time gave me a hard time about it.  Left the job and the man and finally locked my hair.

This is the longest that I've had my hair any one way in all of my life.  Not to mention that this is the longest that I've let my hair get.  I'm one of those women who has no problem chopping it all off if it gets to be too hot or too annoying.  But now I can't!  No I won't chop it off, no matter how many times my locks get stuck under my pocketbook strap and pull, or get in my mouth, or smack me in the eye, or tickle my neck or back and scare the crap out of me.  I've spent too much time on them.  I started them myself with the help of Mommy, and for the occasional trip to the African women or salon, I've pretty much always maintained them on my own as well.  Last weekend when I did them it took me a total of 4 and a half hours.  That included washing, conditioning, tightening, and drying them.  My arms were killing me.  And thats always the point when I weaken and think about how much I miss having almost no hair.

And as I take all the pins out and wrap it up so that I can sleep with out pulling all my locks out and keeping my edges neat, I always think to myself, this is a pain in the fucking ass!  But in the morning, when the sun hits them and they smell all luscious and feel all soft and wonderful, I remember how much I love my hair.  Those are usually the days that someone compliments me on my locks.  Its also usually the day that some strange man tries and smells my hair...