What is the L.O.C. method?? What’s the Curly Girl Method??? I joined a group on face book called Kinky, Curly, Coily, Me! I asked as many questions as I could think of. The ladies on the site were so helpful and knowledgeable. I kept hearing about the L.O.C. method. Then I kept hearing about the curly girl method. What are these things? Then I kept hearing about Castor oil growth Challenges. Don’t people know that genes control your hair’s growth! I never had Long Hair; it’s just not in my genes!! It’s not my thing! Yet, I was curious. I had to sit for a second. How was I going to seriously get my hair back to its pre dye job healthy state? It was time to start reading! Back to Google I went. Through the NaturallyCurly.com website I found the Curly girl method, by Lorraine Massey as illustrated by one of the featured vloggers. I knew about Lorraine Massey because of her Deva Curl products I had tried when the money was good. Her eye opening book helped me to give up some of the bad habits and practices.

In the trash went the hand held dryer and got myself a bonnet dryer and a Denman Brush. Luckily, I already had a big tooth comb! Yet, I stop combing my hair so much and began using my fingers more. I started to learn the terminology of the curly girl like pre- poo and started using some of the methods. The one thing that I was hesitant about was the Curly Girl method. That Friday, I decided to try this method for grooming curly hair. For an hour, I sat under a dryer with coconut oil on my head. Now for the test; I went in the shower and Co-washed with As I Am Coconut wash , rinsed and applied some Suave coconut conditioner to my hair and left the conditioner in my hair. I followed her directions to the letter! Afterwards, I waited for the magic to happen. Three hours later my hair was still white, and still wet. This method wasn’t for me. Nevertheless, I did like what she had to say about keeping the conditioner in your hair. Yet, there were all these techniques that require you put some kind of oil on your head. Where does that come in? I kept reading. On my Nook reader, I came across a book called the “Science of Black Hair” by Audrey Davis-Sivasothy. This book changed everything about how I saw our hair. I read and then re-read this book. Where was this woman 20 years ago when I first went natural? Ms. Davis Sivasothy breaks everything down! She thoroughly explains the growth cycle of black hair, how we plateau to shoulder length hair, and how to properly set up a hair regimen. She also proves Black hair DOES grow, and genes are only partially responsible for length. How we take care of our hair on a daily basis is most important!

Finally, I could possibly see shoulder length hair and beyond in my future. For years, I had it so wrong. For example, we have been conditioned to think water is terrible for our hair. Even as a natural, I dreaded getting my hair wet. I always thought oil or hair grease made your hair grow, and applying it to your hair that hadn’t been washed in days was the answer to preserving your hair. Then when I did wash my hair, I did this torturous thing of basically stripping it down dry hair and washing it with sulfates and harsh detergents. My hair had been screaming, “I AM DEHYDRATED!!” as it fell off of my head! In the “Science of Black Hair”, I read about the shoulder length plateau that has plagued many black women. The longest my hair had ever gotten to was to my mouth. Then I would cut it because it would begin to shed or break off or I got bored. I never even got to the shoulder length plateau. Who am I to think shoulder length was even an option for me let alone bra strap length. Yet I kept reading! In addition to reading Davis-Sivasothy’s book, I began reading the BGLH website in depth. For the longest time I thought these cycles happened at separate times. They actually happen at various times. I also thought that if you were biracial or had some significant mixture in your back ground you were bound to have long hair no matter what you did to it. This is how we had seen people for years, these were the stories that we were told. When I started reading the routines of the featured women it helped break this age old stereotype of Black hair growth. I was inspired to create a routine for myself. From this point on I will share with you how researching helped me get on the right path to healthy hair!

Christmas time rolled on and I was determined to feel grateful for something! I had decided to take on a new hobby. The Ukulele! While sitting in church choir, I saw one of the altos carrying a ukulele box to another room. It hit me, I can’t play guitar for shit! Why not try the Uke! It’s smaller, less strings and it looks fairly unintimidating. My husband is a musician as well; he plays the guitar and the bass. He works on weekends playing in a combo at a restaurant. His boss plays the Ukulele as well. He asked him if he had a random Uke I could practice on just to see if I could handle it. He lent me his old ukulele and I began studying it.

Quickly, I began to get the hang of it. However this ukulele was so old the tension in the pegs began to weaken. The A string would loosen and the note would go flat. I had gotten so attached to playing songs, it was disappointing to have stop. So my husband bought me a ukulele for my Christmas present.

By Christmas, time my hair and I were getting along. I had trimmed it into a very nice shape and had decided to let it grow out. That new found freedom I felt in Salzburg was carrying through. I wore it in an afro more and didn’t bother with Curl definition. However it was feeling more and more like paper again. It would grow out; feel like a dry mess of straw then break off. The only thing that was growing was my frustration. I began co-washing again it helped a little but nothing long term. I would oil it, nothing. I would twist and tuck it, nothing. My hair was also doing something strange. It was curly at the root, but would straighten out at the end; an inconsistent curl from root to tip. I didn’t know what to do! Cut it again, maybe? My mind frame was this; my hair has changed this is what happens when you get older. It will never grow longer than it is right now. While watching one of my favorite shows Mirror, Mirror, the host did a segment on Castor oil. Using a tiny bit on your hair greatly improves your ends and reduces flyway's. Desperately, I went to the drug store and decided to give Castor oil another try. In the past I had used it but didn’t think it was beneficial. While setting my hair in twist and tucks, I would mix the castor oil with some of Dove’s oil cream moisturizer. I did this for a month and notice a significant change in the quality of my hair. It started to curl again and felt softer. In my mind, the pieces started to come together. It as if little droplets of information started to hit my head. During this time I had joined the addiction know as Pinterest. Pinning fashion images and style pictures was how I first got interested. Then an Image of a stylish up do on a beautiful black girl caught my attention. How did she do this style? Could I see myself doing the same style? I click the link that was attached to the imaged and recognized the sight from a few months ago. The image was from Black girl Long Hair. I went to this website and started reading about the Young lady who took her hair from Big Chop to some significant length. She changed her regime stop using heat and started treat her hair better. The results were a glorious head of lovely long locks. I began to Google “Natural hair” and then found the website Naturallycurly.com. This is where I found the typing system which I understood but wasn’t sure where I fit in. My damaged hair did so many things I could really identify with 4 A, B, or C! So I just kept reading.

When I got back home, it was like nothing changed. First of all I was home. In my grandest dream, I thought I was going to have to send for my husband and cats. We were going to have to set up shop in Salzburg because I was offered work singing somewhere in Europe. As it turned out, sometimes dreams turn into nightmares. The festival was a great disappointment which led to a depressing 16 hour plane ride home to depression. I had one gig to look forward to. In kind, I agreed to cover the Soprano in a Beethoven 9 concert with a local orchestra. I was excited about this initially. When I came home it was all I had. I took the one recording we manage to get from the whole event, and create a video for it to shop around to various Opera companies and orchestras. I figured I put all that work into training my voice at the highest level , somebody should bite. I got nothing. Not even an “come in and let us hear you sing”. When we began rehearsing for the concert, I was confident in how I prepared myself, even though my heart wasn’t fully into it. I walked around the world like I had been battered and bruised by a heart breaking experience. My coach who helped me with my preparation dealt me a harsh blow when she said I should have been cast for the concert but I looked too old compared to the others. It hurt. Myself image was taking a bruising in the weeks after Salzburg. It was as if the world had changed right under my broad nose. Here I am, undeniably black, and I don’t fit in. Being the Christian woman I am I kept pushing. My duty now was to get a day job and continue with voice lessons and auditioning. The day job was proving more and more difficult to come by. After all, Los Angeles is one of the cities with the highest unemployment. I was able to sign up with my 10th temp agency. They were sending me out on assignments here and there. By this time I my hair was beginning to flourish again. I had braided it with some box braids and it looked okay. The hair that I used was so cheap it would unravel and the braids would tangle leaving me with a mess. I took them down and sported my signature twist and tuck. It was a neat hairstyle that I could undo into a nice textured afro! It was my go to “protective style”. Now at this point I was not so hip on the entire Natural hair lingo. I had gone natural in 1991 and all we had was Caesar cut and braids! Those were the terms we used.

As the subsequent days rolled by, I kissed my husband good bye each day and remained home slightly depressed from the lack of work and prospects I would send out two sets of resumes to opera companies and regular companies for receptionist jobs. I got one call to audition for San Francisco opera’s chorus. I get that one every year. They put me on the wait list and leave me hanging for never. Then I got a call from Long Beach Opera asking me to help them out with the School program they put on for the schools. I thought his would be great to do. I was excited to do it even though they were only going to pay me $50 to do it. Then I had a recital for the Music club I belonged to and another Christmas gig paying $200 at my church. So I was set up for the holidays! I began to heal. The temp agency called me as well. They had a job downtown covering for the receptionist who had lost her mother suddenly. I was excited, real work! Since my hair was growing out, I still wanted to look professional and not do too much to my hair. Plus they called me at 9 am I had to do something quick to my hair. So I pulled out one of my pixie wig and wore it to the assignment! This proved to be a smart but incredibly dumb move. Smart because I got tons of compliments on my work, they were impressed at how quickly I caught on to the office culture and how well I worked the front desk. I looked professional and pulled together with my little pixie wig on.

I wore the wig for a couple of weeks and occasionally switched it up with another short wig. I got tons of compliments on it too. One lady screamed out I like your hair! I walked back and said thanks it’s a wig! Winked and kept going. She came to the front desk and marveled at my wig. The next day, she told me she went to her hair appointment bragging about it and how she wanted my hair cut. The beautician talked her off the ledge. There was one girl who would cover my desk for lunch and she would go on various blogs but one she would go on was BGLH or Black Girl Long Hair. I thought that was interesting. I didn’t know what it was about so I told her to write it down for me. I would look at it later. She had long hair but I think it was a weave. However there was another girl who covered for me who had very long hair. She too was black. This was not a weave. It was hers ALL hers. I thought like most people “she must be mixed with something. I never went back to the website. I thought it was a site for girls who were somehow more blessed than us ordinary girls with ordinary black hair. When I got home, I looked at myself in the mirror as I took my wig and make up off. I undid my little twist and tuck buns and began to think, what if I just not wear the wig tomorrow. Just undo my hair, fluff it out and dress really nice and go into work like this? The next morning, I began operation phase out. I put on a very sleek outfit, and fluffed out my twist and tuck and went in to work as is. I got compliments on my thick hair from some the other said the phrase I dread, “You Changed your hair”. How many of you have heard this phrase? I always think when someone says this it’s their way of really saying, “I don’t understand why your hair is like this, but if I don’t say something you will think I hate it, I actually don’t like it but you caught me staring so I have to say …You changed your hair!” insert slight smile. The head of the company even began to look at me differently. I thought to myself “uh oh”!

I had spent two months working there when the powers that be decided to promote the old receptionist and hire me on as the new receptionist. I was through the roof! I thought “My hair won”! And I got a job! This is great! Prior to taking on this job, I had informed my temp agency of the days I would need off for my various side gigs and to fly up to San Francisco for my audition. They were in total agreement with this and would work around my schedule. The first week I worked on my own as the temp to perm receptionist, I informed the H.R. assistant of the days I would need off. He immediately rushed to my desk and said he knew nothing of this. A slight warm feeling came over me, then immediately my blood turned cold. This was not good. I went to lunch and called my temp agent and told her what had happened. When I came back from lunch, the other receptionist told me that another rep from my agency came to see me. I was thinking all of this was bad, bad, bad! I immediately, started canceling my gigs; I needed this job, and was prepared to sacrifice my reputation as a musician for a day job. The following week I was on pins and needles. Christmas was coming upon us and I was doing anything and everything they had asked of me to keep this job. Then something happened, I answered a call about the Receptionist position that was available. I went cold. I called my temp agent and she broke the news to me, they are rescinding the job offer, they are looking for another receptionist. I was to stay there until they found someone else. Well as luck would have it, that weekend I got food poisoning. I didn’t make it to Monday and they told me not to come back at all. The next thing I did was try to get my gigs back. I got the one!

It was my honest intention to talk about my Hair journey when beginning this blog. But I wanted to share with you my experience in Salzburg for a very important reason. I am going to get to this reason. I will not go on about the festival I attended because it was Crap! The festival was indeed a sham. The best part of the whole business was the 15 people I met.

I now have a place to stay whenever I decide to go back to Salzburg, or to Vienna, Malaysia, Spain, Germany, and England! However, I want to finally get to the real reason why Salzburg is so important to my Hair journey. Are you ready for it? It was the weather.

When I last reported on my hair I shared that it had barely survive 16 hours of airplane air, sweat and gel plastered down by a sweaty scarf attempting to give it some sort of style! Each day in Salzburg brought something new weather wise. Initially, I walked out to chilly temps in the 70’s filled with gently breezes and misty atmospheres! Just my type of weather. I began the day with a shower, wetting my hair and applying some Organic Root Stimulator olive oil hair cream. This had proven t be somewhat useful in the states. I wouldn’t bother with wash and go curl definition. For some reason, my whole perspective on hair and Curl definition went completely out the window. Accepting what was real and authentic was more important. I couldn’t’ hide underneath braids. This is me and I had to look the best I could with what I had on my head. Like the gas station hottie said, the weather in Salzburg changes quite often in the summer. Some days it could be very cold, but the next day it could get quite hot and humid. The longer I stayed in Salzburg the more it began to fluctuate. We had competing storms that would volley back and forth between mountains.

Yet all of this moisture was proving very beneficial for me. My skin looked amazing, and sense we all had to walk a lot, I began to lose weight. Sticking with my simple regime of wetting and applying curl cream to my hair was also proving beneficial. My curls began to come back. The humidity, good clean food, daily walking, and the working helped my hair tremendously. By the time I left Salzburg for home, I was 10 pounds lighter and impoverished, but I got that one and half inches on my hair!

I’m not an expert. I have never considered myself an expert at anything. However, I am a great learner. Maybe I am an expert at learning. Recently, I had a life lesson thrown me into a stupor. I will spare the details for a later post. I spent many days depressed and sad. I needed to figure out how to get out of my depression without turning to medical options. This is where the learning comes in. Learning something new is a great way to focus the mind on something other than sadness and regret. I choose to pull my efforts into the Ukulele! Then I choose the Violin. Most importantly, I choose my hair! It all started with a dye job gone wrong!

Experts say never make any decision under emotional stress. Well they are right! In 2012, I was at the end of my first job after a long unemployment stint. I was working in Hollywood for a production company. I was under a lot of stress. This job was not what I had expected. They were perks; I got to see some very interesting people, tons of celebrities, free lunch, and after a Nike Shoot I got free gear! Nice right? Well it came at a cost. I was determined to conquer the diva attitudes and constant rule changing to master the front desk of this demanding position. Well At the end of my third month, I had a confident feeling this was going to work, I was fired. Now my home life was on a precarious line of destruction as well. Being a newlywed in this economy is very difficult. I didn’t think we were going to make it. So losing my job, and almost losing my marriage made we want to control something in my life. Unfortunately, I always seek control through my hair. Since I couldn’t stand the sight of my husband at this time, I decided to stay at my mom’s house to clear my head and plan a strategy. My birthday was coming up and it was a big one. I was turning 39. I was growing out a cut into a nice sized fro. I had installed box braid the week before I was let go. So my hair was about nose length in the front and inches away from shoulder length on the sides and back. Yet, I wanted a style that would reflect my new status of impending Woman hood. After all I felt a woman of 39 should have a haircut that reflected this. Plus I just didn’t want to sit and braid it again. So, I went into my mother’s bathroom and with a pair of dull scissors I chopped my 6 inches down to 1 inch. By the time I finished I regretted the hasty decision immediately.

My husband called me the following week and said that he had made an appointment with a marriage counselor to disgust our marriage. We had a ton of issues connected to our past. We decided that instead of throwing everything away we needed to work on ourselves so we can come together. I felt better, unemployed but better. I looked at my new cut and decided that I needed to do something to soften it up. I have always wanted red hair! Red Hair on black people is so unusual and beautiful. I decided to take the plunge and dye my inch long hair red. Went to the beauty supply store and go some Clairol Textures and Tones and 30 minutes later, I was a red head! I loved it. I was coppery and beautiful! I decided to do new headshots and everything! Going short and red made me feel confidant and avant garde! I walked around and embraced the stares! However my Choir director for a group I sang with did not like it. He is very old school and equates Long hair with Beauty. He said I looked mannish! I was insulted, but chalked it up to his antiquated ways! I was not wigging my head for his show! My usual plan when I cut and colour my hair has always been this; Wash, condition, style with gel. As my hair grows out I trim off the colour to my natural colour. Occasionally, I will deep condition my hair. This has worked for me in the past. My hair grew out and all was fine. This time, something terrible happened. My hair was not growing, it was breaking! Breaking terribly! I began seeing split ends so bad that it looks as if I had a head full of tree branches! I was devastated! Later that year, I was cast in the chorus of an opera in Santa Barbara. The costume department wanted me to wear a straw hat on top of my natural hair. What I knew from my mother is, never wear a hat that would rip your hair out of your scalp. I decided to wear a wig plus the hat instead. This helped my hair to rest during the production. By the end of the run, I had a good inch of new growth on top of the two inches. I had stopped wearing gel, and applied Shea Moisture cream instead. This helped a little, but the texture of my hair was so rough and brittle. I thought if I get four inches, I could put braids in and let it rest even more. This didn’t work; I had no other choice but to do another big chop. Lesson Learned? Stay away from major styling decisions under emotional stress! Don’t cut your hair with dull scissors!