Saturday was "hair day". The process was long and brutal. Momma would wash our hair and let it air dry and by late Saturday afternoon she would press it out with the hot comb. Oh, it was hot! She would put it on the stove let it heat up and pull out the royal crown hair grease. Believe me you sat still until she was done. But the joy of wearing a bang and having "straight hair" was worth the pain. I would go to bed wearing the pink sponge roller excited about having some of my hair down for Sunday morning. And when I was older she would let me wear a bang in the front and some hanging down in the back.
Over the years I've worn weaves, wigs, braids, ponytails-- worn mine short and long and any style the lady at the salon could do to make me beautiful. I have sat with my scalp on fire from chemicals for "straight hair". Now, it's short. And sometimes I wear a "wash and go". Air dried like I would on Saturday and if I would have known then what I know now I would have saved myself the torture. People have said, "girl that's hot", "you look so sophisticated", "you look stunning". But thirty years ago on a Saturday afternoon sitting in the kitchen underneath the heat of the comb it was just "nappy". Us clay colored girls have come a long way.
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