photo (LEFT)
The first time I straightened my loose 3A curls, there was a palpable sense of relief. It was a confirmation, of sorts, that I could fit in with the sleek, frizz-free beach babes whose naturally long, shiny locks were the best kind of social currency, living in coastal Australia in the mid-90s.
Thankfully, the privilege of my racial ambiguity (African American and Euro-Australian) means that the reality of living with that feeling has been relatively benign – some internalised negative thoughts, occasional inappropriate hair touching and an endless quest to find a singular product to tame my frizz.
Still, making the choice to embrace my natural hair has always felt more encumbered by the negative view of curly textures than it would for my Caucasian counterparts. Yes, the oppressive weight of idealised beauty standards isn’t exclusive to any ethnicity – we’ve all felt the pressure to conform to unrealistic expectations transmitted via media, advertising and society at large. As Fleabag says to her sister in Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s brilliant show of the same name: “Hair is everything. We wish it wasn’t so we could think about something else occasionally, but it is.”
But together with my tans-in-minutes skin and wider-than-usual nose, my natural hair creates an ‘othering’ effect meaning my choices are never just about beauty. It’s a statement. The personal turned political. It’s a curiosity, a conversation starter
