It was truly the dawn of the natural hair movement, and I was not to be left behind. There I was, trying out every regiment known to man, or should I say, the natural hair enthusiasts.
I had a lunch date on this particular day, and wanted to wear my hair out (since it can be quite a struggle to let your hair ‘down’, if it’s type 4C-ish)
Everyone was talking about coconut oil and water, and I thought this was the manna I needed in the heat of the desert (the desert here being my dry brittle hair, or the weather, living in the middle east, if you’re kind)
Someone should definitely blog on ‘how much is too much coconut oil’, because there I was, lock, stock and barrel.
The said lunch was at the mall. My friend Ian picked me up and eyed my hair eerily. (the things naturalistas put up with!)
It’s when we got to the mall and started walking across the car park that I realized that I might have gone a little overboard with the coconut oil. I definitely wasn’t oozing finesse.
‘Water,water everywhere
and not a drop to drink’ these are the words of a famous poem, but they reflect the state of my hair at that juncture. My hair could not absorb the coconut oil.
I was walking around the mall with coconut oil dripping down my neck in that slow but sure, ‘i know what you did to your hair last summer’ oozing. Since I didn’t want to become a spectacle,who I’m I kidding, I probably already was; I went to the bathroom and wiped off the excess oil.
Who knew that moisturizing natural hair was such an art!
life is poetry 