When I first saw Phoebe Waller Bridge's character, Fleabag, saying that "Hair is everything," I didn't think much of it. Only much later did I realise that women around me talked about hair a lot. My cousin, in fact, is obsessed with hair; most of our video calls start with how frustrated she is coz of her hair. I have had colleagues who, during our cab rides to work, shared hair care tips every week.
Growing up, tiny braids were my thing for the longest time. Even though girls around me were pressurised to grow their hair, I was lucky enough to have the freedom to do whatever I wanted with them. There was one problem, though. Two actually. Firstly, the hairdressers seemed to have sworn off any haircuts that were not layers. Everyone coming out of a hair salon looked the same. When I moved to a bigger city, I tried my best to convince hairdressers to do something different. The process involved many requests, giving examples of how the haircut looks good on certain people, and a verbal oath that I and only I would be responsible for the final outcome. Once I got the haircut, I was excited like a puppy with a new toy. But then people around me looked at me with these sad eyes as if something bad had happened to me. That was the second problem.
I guess most people are pretty uptight when it comes to haircuts. My haircuts were not even radical. But to them, it was. To them it was an inappropriate desire to change, a cry for help even. To me, it was never that serious. I changed my hair every year for one reason alone - because I could. Nothing else.
