As a proud curly girl who has, finally, got her hair routine down to a tee, the biggest compliment is being asked how I do it. When I was trying to find links to the products I swear by for a friend, it bothered me that if you search for the Curly Girl Method, it only dates to 2001, when hairstylist Lorraine Massey published her book: The Curly Girl Method. The search pulled up a very brief, clean version of cultural history without acknowledgement of the racism at its roots. In this article, I’ll explore the checkered past of curly hair.
Image courtesy of Unsplash
Where does curly hair come from?
It all comes down to hair follicles, which are influenced by genetics, and family geography. Follicles that are more oval cause curlier hair to grow, which is likely where Nordic curls descend from. Very tightly coiled hair is due to the nearly flat, ribbon-like structure of its follicle: this hair texture is very common in people of African ancestry.
Fashionable privileges
"Hair isn’t just hair, because society doesn’t allow it to be."
Iyana Jones
Looking back to the 1960s, with rallying for civil rights in America, there was a “Black is Beautiful” movement within the black community, with Marcus Garvey’s calls to reclaim natural hairstyles.
The 1970s became a collage of curls and poker-straight locks. It seemed that, at least in the fashion world, there was an acceptance of these new styles, with a turn to texture in the 1980s. it was a decade in which predominantly white women were embracing tongs and treatments to get on board with the latest style trend. This confidence to have light skin and follow these trends without fear of job rejection is a privilege I hadn’t realised until recently.
As a white woman in the 2020s with type-3 curls, I’ve been told my hair is lovely, and even fashionable from time to time, but warned that if I want a sleek, sophisticated look I should really go for a blowout. The undertones of prejudice remain.
Hair is still weaponised
“For women of colour, hairstyling — from chemically relaxing to covering your hair with a wig or deliberately wearing it in an Afro — is about managing a marginalized identity." Dr Lukate
Colonisation between the 16th and 20th centuries saw countless Africans transported across the globe as slaves with shaved heads as identifying markers.
As just one of many examples of the governing of textured hair, in the 1700s, Louisianian black women were briefly permitted to wear their hair proudly in elaborate styles. However, this attracted the attention of white men. To diminish “excessive attention to dress”, the Governor enacted the Tignon Laws, requiring Creole women to wear a tignon to cover their hair to indicate that they belonged to the slave class – whether they were “free” or not.
The historical impression that hair is either professional or unprofessional extends significantly less tolerance for those who have tighter textures or bigger volumes. It is still legal in forty-three states of America to engage in 'race-based hair discrimination, which is the denial of employment and educational opportunities because of hair texture or protective hairstyles including braids, locs, twists or Bantu knots.’
In 2018 Chastity Jones refused to cut off her dreadlocks and lost a job offer. She took her case to the Supreme Court to expose the racial discrimination in America.
I recoiled at school when staff advised that afro hairstyles, dreads, etc., were ‘inappropriate’ for a professional setting and reprimanded young people’s ‘defiance’ which simply equated to showing up as themselves. It reeks of racism in a system that is supposed to be equally accessible to all.
Comedian Paul Mooney states an observation: “if your hair is relaxed, white people are relaxed. If your hair is nappy [natural], they are not happy.” (Source: Chris Rock’s documentary trailer for “Good Hair”)
Supporting black hair artists
It’s important to celebrate the liberation of textured hair that has occurred in some places, whilst acknowledging that ownership of care and styling products is still largely in the hands of white companies.
When I think of curly influencers, I’ve only really been exposed to white women within the community, which I’m actively changing by being more considerate of who I engage with on social media. Mixed race actress, singer, director, turned entrepreneur Tracee-Eliss Ross founded her curly company Pattern Beauty in 2018 and nurtured a community of empowerment. “Black-owned & Black-centered” is its cornerstone.
Ross is passionate about helping others see natural hair in the media, rocking her “crown” in the hit TV show Black-ish, which has collected Emmy-winning accolades within its hair department.
It’s important to acknowledge the debt we curlies owe to generations of people of colour. They have endured and sacrificed so much whilst sharing their knowledge and techniques for textured hair health.