At the Salon…
It’s an Early Friday afternoon and I’m at one my favorite places, the Natural Hair Spa & Boutique and I’m getting my mane tamed. I can remember that it was only 2-3 years ago when I literally chopped it all off. I saved some of the long, dark brown strands of my permed hair as though it were the end of my life, or as if my hair would never grow back.
As I chopped it off myself with no kind of precision, I looked in the mirror. I stared at myself and I stared at my hair. My hair was thick and tired of me messing around. For years I joked that my hair was upset with me for not taking proper care of it. After cutting my hair, I had to go to a barber for them to shape up and even out my hair. I didn’t know of any male barbers and my husband’s barber was Hispanic with no Experience cutting women’s hair, let alone cutting a Black women’s hair. So I called my granny’s barber who was an hour away from me.
I was frightened, insecure, unsure of myself and even a little ashamed of cutting off my unhealthy over processed hair. I sat outside of the barbershop looking at my husband, I told him that I was afraid. He assured me the hard part was over and to go in.
Inside of the shop I felt as though I stepped back into history. Everything was old, from the torn faded posters of possible fades and styles. The other wall was held up by old boxing legends like Sugar Ray Robinson, Joe Frazier and Muhhamad Ali. The brown unpolished squeaky wooden floors played a small melody with every footstep. The door had one of those old bells hanging from it, and every time someone came in or left out, the big old bell would jingle as it slammed itself back and forth against the door. The barber’s chairs were old even the barbers were old. I guessed that symbolized experience or at least a step back in time if only for a moment.
In the barber’s chair I sat nervous like a young boy does when it’s time for his first haircut. I was afraid of the clippers, and the sound they made. As I looked around I wondered what the men in the shop thought of a female chopping all of her hair off. Did they think I was being radical, did they think I was gay or just going through some female life crisis.
The barber asked what I wanted, I told him to simply shape me up and he did. He was so gentle with my virgin hair that it tickled a bit. He cut my hair low, and I told him lower, after telling him to cut it lower 2 more times, then he asked, “well how much lower do you want it?” I didn’t want to look in the mirror. Then he gave me the small handheld mirror to see if the back was ok. I pretended to look at the back and the truth was that I didn’t care what it looked like. Then he turned my chair around and I was facing the mirror. I apprehensively looked up to my reflection. My eyes began to swell with tears. I thanked him, paid him and tipped him, I tossed on my baseball cap, put on my earrings to try and salvage what femininity I had left. I got in the car and cried…
Big Chop
“I look like a boy! People will think I’m gay!”
My husband replied, “With a face like that, no one will ever think you’re a boy… And, so what if someone thinks you’re gay… Are you?”
“No…” I sobbed…
“Ok, then let’s go home…” We drove back home and for an entire week I wore a baseball cap or a wig whenever I left the house. And then one day, I went out without my cap or wig on, it was the middle of August and I was hot… All day people complimented me, men and women of every race and age. The next day I went to work with no cap or wig, at the time I was a retail manager, men of every race complimented me and even hit on me. I was so shocked because I felt so ugly and insecure.
It’s been nearly 4 years since my Big Chop and I don’t have many pictures of my hair from then, but I’ve included a few pictures from then up until now and a Video Below. Be on the look-out for more posts, videos and more.
Same style, but I pulled it into a ponytail & added a piece…
At the salon… It’s all my hair.
Beautiful Joi 