Two things can be true at once. Speaking personally, I think I'll use this post to hold myself accountable while also acknowledging the consequences of living in a Western society, which puts a certain kind of woman on a pedestal.
I need to preface that as I am typing this, I have a wig on. Whether this is me being hypocritical or just being real, I don't know. You tell me what your stance is at the end of this post because me myself, I don't even know where I stand.
There's so much nuance and depth to this topic, one blog post - even one conversation isn't enough to touch base on all the different angles.
We already know that Black women's hair is a political topic. Whether or not we like to admit it, it is never 'just hair'. From the length, to the texture, to the skin colour of the person with said hair - the variation in response is weighted.
In the 60's and 70's, the rise in popularity of the afro quickly fell when it started becoming a wider symbol for political unrest became associated with a more radical and violent aesthetic. It was even banned in Tanzania at one point. Its decline in the US came about during the late 70s and 80s, where the aesthetic centred around looking sleek and glamorous - which meant having straight, glossy hair.
At the end of the day, whether or not you fit the Western beauty standard has always been dependent on your proximity to whiteness and thinness. This has and always will be true. Outside of being fetishised, being dark and being big will never be the 'thing'; as a result of hegemonic structures in place. Recent times have seen a slight moderation of this standard, where racial ambiguity seems to be closer to what people are aiming for; with the intentions of looking 'exotic'. With this comes the acceptance of a loose(r) hair texture as opposed to straight, and the desire to have an hourglass figure. Having said all of this, the Western beauty standard ultimately rejects Black women, who have 'less palatable' features, like a wider nose and bigger lips.
Growing up, we have been conditioned by society to believe that the closer your hair to being straight, the better. Whether this is having loose curls or actually having dead straight hair, as long as it isn't a 'kinky, nappy' mess, it's okay. However much you are raised a certain way at home, ultimately, society has a bigger impact than your parents (in terms of beauty and attraction). Your parents tell you that you are beautiful and that you should love the skin you're in, but the minute you step out the door, you're surrounded by evidence telling you that you're undesirable in a million ways. Which one are you likely to believe?
The early 2000's saw the lengths that many Black women went to in order to conform to this standard; from frying their hair due to excessive heat or just flat out relaxing it. A lot were taught from birth by family members that their natural hair wasn't good enough, and that in order to look presentable, their hair needed to be straight.
Today we are vilified for not wearing our natural hair and resorting to the 'easy' option; wigs and extensions. 'You want to be white', 'You are self-hating', 'You're fake and unnatural'. But how do you expect women who have been told for years that their natural state is ugly to just up and change?
For those who have the fight in them, it's easier to get up and do the work it takes to wholeheartedly love yourself despite what's being thrown at you by society; but in the famous words of Audrey Indome 'It's not my hill.' For many, the question is 'Why would I want to subject myself to less than preferential treatment, when looking a certain way is easier for me?'
Ultimately, hair and beauty boils down to the male gaze. As much as we do certain things for ourselves, speaking generally, what we do cosmetically and physically is done with the intentions of appearing attractive to your target audience, which - for the most part unfortunately - is men. Women want to look good to men and vice versa. When you look at the recipients of pretty privilege, you can often note specific consistencies; whether this be in certain hairstyles, body types or skin tones. Those left out of it often tend to be bigger and darker women with a thicker and more coarse hair texture.
Looking a certain way invites certain treatment. If you know you get treated better in a 30" jet black bussdown, what are the benefits of going out in your curls, when you know that you attract the kind of man that doesn't attract you? A lot of the men that scream that 'Black women don't love themselves because they're afraid to show their natural hair', are often the same ones that will disrespect the ones who do - because their hair doesn't fit the criteria of natural that they find attractive. The 'Natural Hair Movement' reemerged in the 2010's, with the intentions of getting Black women to love themselves in their natural and unmanipulated state (targeting dark skinned women with 4C hair) but this was quickly overtaken by light-skinned women with long and curly hair, who consequently became the face of the movement. Reinforcing the idea that this is the only natural hair that is socially acceptable, many Black women either gave up and resorted back to extensions and relaxers.
4C hair is still widely unaccepted in society. Due to the inconsistent strand patterns, the natural oils from the scalp struggle to reach the entirety of the hair - making it inherently dry and brittle. The texture can often be coarse and undefined; something we have been made to believe is 'unkempt' and 'messy'. 4C hair is the texture furthest from the white beauty standard, and the detachment from it means that if you do have this texture, you are often perceived as less desirable.
Natural hair is never just natural hair. There is a hierarchy upheld by black and non-black people alike, with 4C hair ending up at the bottom of the pyramid. 'Good hair' is defined by your hair texture and length, as opposed to how healthy your hair is, which is why there is such an unhealthy obsession with length retention in the Black community; regardless of whether or not the hair is broken and damaged. Everything is ridden with subconscious trauma. Type 4 hair is prone to breakage, and for many of us, being in environments where our hair is not nurtured, it often doesn't grow past a certain length. Many have been bullied for being 'bald headed' and unable to grow hair which is where the length retention obsession stems from.
'@Lipglosssss', left TikTok in 2022 as a result of bullying. She created her platform with the intentions of uplifting Black women while also speaking in a very raw and unfiltered way that many found triggering. She left her hair in its natural state with minimal manipulation, and it ended up being the butt of many offensive jokes. Ironically, it was majority Black women and men who used to make fun of her hair and how she looked. It's sad really, that we're at a point where it's normal to be bullied for not conforming to society's toxic standard by people that have the SAME features as you. It shows just how deeply negative our perception of ourselves is.
In all areas, 4C hair is rejected and seen as undesirable. In school we are told our hair is distracting, at work we are told our hair is unkempt and inappropriate, and socially we're just told it's ugly. So in order to survive, we conform. We tuck our hair away and we put on a wig, we straighten it or sew in tracks to give us a new look. We know we will be desired on a more general level with these styles, and in a world that is already so against Black women, this is just one less problem to have.
Or have we created more?
It doesn't help that looking and being 'put together' is such a huge deal in the Black community. There is an unnecessarily huge emphasis on having your hair done constantly. Our beauty is found within our hair, so when it isn't 'done', not only do we feel ugly, but it has a huge impact on our mental health. This is why so much money is poured into our maintenance; we're okay with spending unfathomable amounts because our 'beauty has no price'. But our 'priceless' beauty has created a gaping hole where our self esteem should be, where it is not only becoming increasingly unaffordable, but we are making it even harder for the young and impressionable girls who look up to us to find peace in their own beauty, because we struggle to find it within our own.
We attribute being 'put together' to having your hair pulled or slicked back, or just completely hidden away - whether this be in braids, sew-ins or wigs. We don't allow ourselves to see the beauty in our raw, unfiltered selves. We are our biggest critics, and while we preach self love to each other, a lot of the time we don't even bother trying to see it in ourselves if we don't look a certain way.
We are at a point in society where our natural hair is no longer as oppressive as it once was. We no longer need to solely rely on having long, straight hair in order to make it far in life. But for many Black women, wigs and hair extensions make up the majority - if not all of their hair catalogue.
Are we too far gone? Wigs are used as a coping mechanism and are now the black beauty standard. Your standing in society is defined by the kind of hair that you have. Your treatment is dependent on your hairstyle. The entertainment industry was the breeding ground for wigs becoming the beauty standard, because the 30'' jet black bussdown was never supposed to be something that was attainable for the everyday person. The development of the 'influencer' and the blurring lines between 'us' and 'them' means that the expectations and standards for how we look on a regular basis have become unrealistically high. We want to emulate what we are being exposed to on social media, but we're not acknowledging just how much of a negative impact this is having on our perception of reality. What we are seeing is bleeding into our minds and warping our understanding of what beauty should be.
Many are becoming increasingly alert to the overall damages that the wig and extensions industry is having on us, but until the balance shifts from them being a minority, it's futile.
Women say they wear wigs to protect their hair, but how much are you protecting your hair if you're keeping it unwashed in cornrows for four months at a time? How much are you protecting your hair when you're sacrificing your edges for the sake of a snatched wig? How much are you protecting your hair when you're sacrificing your skin by using glue on it for the vast majority of the year? Are you still protecting your hair when you're capable of spending hundreds on a single wig, yet struggle to part with £30 for products for your hair? What is the point of the protection if you're can't even display the same thing you're protecting?
Women say they wear wigs because their natural hair is too high maintenance, but is spending tens of hours bleaching, plucking, install
ing and customising a wig not high maintenance? Wigs are rarely throw on and go. Most nights you sit down and you give yourself a headache while bruising the muscles in your ears in order to achieve the 'melted' look. When the hair is curly you're doing the work to make sure it doesn't tangle and matte. Is that not high maintenance? You can easily spend 3 hours on an install - if that's not high maintenance, I don't know what is. Why can we not afford the same treatment to the locs sprouting from our head?
At the end of the day, it's the response that you get from the hairstyles you wear that makes the most impact. You don't mind spending 3 hours every few days on installing your hair because you know this is when you are at your most desired, this is when you get the most attention, and this is when you feel your prettiest. Is this the fault of black woman? Should we be villainised because we've conformed to the expectation that was created in an attempt to keep us as close to the white beauty standard as possible?
There is nothing wrong with wearing wigs and extensions. One of the best things about being a Black woman is the endless versatility that we are afforded when it comes to our hair. But we need to be able to draw a line somewhere. When does it become too much? What is the breaking point where we decide enough is enough and collectively acknowledge the damage that wearing them has done to us as a society?