“Hey, can I touch your hair?”
“No. NO. Do not touch my hair.”
To touch or not to touch?
If you’re a curly girl, how many times have people approached you and asked to touch your hair (meanwhile, their hands are already elbow deep in curls)? Contrarily, how many times have you asked to touch someone’s curly hair?
I posted a video a few days ago that poked fun at this. Several of my friends watched it, laughing. Then, Saturday, a few of us went out to a lovely pub for some nectar of the gods (hellooooo, Guinness!). Not one, not two, but three of the servers stopped to come and play with my hair. One of them had curls already, and was visibly excited at seeing someone else rocking full-on curly. They all asked to touch it, but it was more of a casual social etiquette thing – they were already playing around with it.
I used to hate this, and not only because people would often put things in it (ah, elementary school, you were a cruel, cruel mistress). It would frizz! People would inevitably get their hands stuck in it! The giddy Homer Simpson impressions of “Curly, straight! Curly, straight!” and comparisons of a pig’s tail would delight the onlooker. I, however, would feel like a sideshow at the circus. Leaving my hair down was not an invitation to see how much stuff it could hold (pencils, paper bits, or otherwise). And who knows what people had on their grubby little paws!? Germs…were the very least of my worries. Food particles, bodily fluids – my hair absorbs everything. I was constantly paranoid of grossness. And, finally, I used to douse my head heavily with gel, or curl defining cream, whatever I could get my hands on to beat my hair into some sort of recognizable submission. Touching it, people would feel crisp, plastic-like gel. That is embarrassing, friends!
Now, however, I don’t worry as much. Maybe due to mellowing with age, maybe because it’s been a lifetime occurrence, maybe because the Curly Girl method doesn’t usually leave me with a bad hair day (at least, one that can’t be fixed by a little lavender spray) – I don’t care if people want to touch it. I actually kind of…*gasp*….like it. It feels like a mini head massage and makes me feel important and that I’m somehow just a little bit more awesome because of my hair. It’s funny (and flattering) to me when people gape and ask if it’s ‘natural’, or if I ‘had to do something to it to get it so…perfect’. Nope! Just treat it well, use the same hair care routine that I’ve discussed on here a few times previously, fluff, and go. I love it.
What do you think? Do people want to touch your curls? Do you touch other curls? Let me know!