All about hair
I've been thinking about my hair this weekend. I changed all my profile pictures to show more of my hair, and then there this blog post....
The other night, at about 11:17 pm I started playing with my camera, and took pictures of my hair. It was still a little damp, which means it was longer than it is when dry. Anyhow, looking at the pictures, I thought 'man, it's getting really long', so I did the next obvious thing - I measured it. The one dread I measured was over 15 inches long!
The other day I was walking down Castro St., on my way to catch a bus, when one of those California Environment people tried to stop me. I told her I was late for work, she responded by asking how long I've had my dreads, and how great they looked.
Because I never really 'see' my hair, except those times it comes close to ending up in my food or drink, or when I fall while playing soccer, I don't really know what my hair looks like. Sometimes I just think my hair is a bother - while sleeping, while eating, while it is stuck in the shoulder strap on my backpack, while washing (and especially drying) it, while twisting it, and many other times. I do like having 'different' hair though, so I want to use this opportunity (because I don't know what else to blog about) to discuss the history of my hair, and answer questions people hesitantly ask me about it.
I had a shaved head in high school, and wanted something different in college. That's when I saw (I never formally met him) Thomas. Thomas was a friend of a friend of mine. He was a math major (like me), who was a year ahead of me. He was mixed, with one parent from Africa (like me), and he had dreads (not like me). I thought he looked so cool, I had a non-sexual crush on the guy. I wanted to be Thomas. It was also cool that his name was Thomas and mine, Jefferson.
Anyhow, starting in the Summer of 1995 I started on my first incarnation of dread-locked life. I didn't know how to get it started, so I just grew my hair out, didn't wash it much, and twisted, and twisted, and twisted, and twisted....about 6 months later, I had stubby dreads. I only grew them on the top of my head, and they grew out pretty well. In 1998 I got into the habit of trimming them. This eventually led to a couple falling out. I thought I was going bald (and I was told by a recruiter that his company wouldn't hire me because of my hair - I should have sued), so on January 2, 2000, I cut off my dreads.
For the next several months, there were a number of 2nd takes when I would run into people who didn't recognize me on first glance. It was funny.
Flash forward to 2003. I had been at De Anza for 2 years, taken a year off to go to Berkeley, and thought now is the time to start up the hair again. I started dreading again in early 2004, and by Summer 2004, I had the stubs again, and they grew and grew and grew, and now, 4 years later, they are 15 inches long.
People often want to ask me things about my hair, and I can see they hesitancy in their faces (sometimes they never even ask), so I'll answer some of the questions I've been asked.
The most asked questions deal with washing it.
I wash it about every 3 days (it's actually not the best idea to wash your hair everyday, you everyday hair washers). The drying part is the real pain. I use a combination of hair drying, towel, and flicking. After I use a hair dryer and a towel, I spend about 45 minutes twisting each one from the root to about an inch or two from my scalp. I then flick water out of the dread. It usually takes 5-6 hour to get completely dry.
My also get (often from kids) requests to touch my hair.
In college, I remember being at house parties, and having drunken students (usually women) coming up to me from behind and touching or running their hands through my hair. I never really saw why they did this, I just assumed they were drunk.
I also remember a friend of mine with 'spring-y' wanting to play with my hair. I would let her do it, if I could play with hers.
About a year ago, my then 4-year old cousin-in-law asked why I had my hair like I did. I said I liked it. I then asked him the same question. He said he liked his. We then proceeded to touch each others hair (it sounds odder than it actually was).
It doesn't bother me at all when people ask me questions about my hair (or even want to touch it). I'd much rather people ask than assume. I've gone through my life (and many airport security checkpoints) with too many people making assumptions about who or what I am.
2004
2005
2006
2007
2008
The other night, at about 11:17 pm I started playing with my camera, and took pictures of my hair. It was still a little damp, which means it was longer than it is when dry. Anyhow, looking at the pictures, I thought 'man, it's getting really long', so I did the next obvious thing - I measured it. The one dread I measured was over 15 inches long!
The other day I was walking down Castro St., on my way to catch a bus, when one of those California Environment people tried to stop me. I told her I was late for work, she responded by asking how long I've had my dreads, and how great they looked.
Because I never really 'see' my hair, except those times it comes close to ending up in my food or drink, or when I fall while playing soccer, I don't really know what my hair looks like. Sometimes I just think my hair is a bother - while sleeping, while eating, while it is stuck in the shoulder strap on my backpack, while washing (and especially drying) it, while twisting it, and many other times. I do like having 'different' hair though, so I want to use this opportunity (because I don't know what else to blog about) to discuss the history of my hair, and answer questions people hesitantly ask me about it.
I had a shaved head in high school, and wanted something different in college. That's when I saw (I never formally met him) Thomas. Thomas was a friend of a friend of mine. He was a math major (like me), who was a year ahead of me. He was mixed, with one parent from Africa (like me), and he had dreads (not like me). I thought he looked so cool, I had a non-sexual crush on the guy. I wanted to be Thomas. It was also cool that his name was Thomas and mine, Jefferson.
Anyhow, starting in the Summer of 1995 I started on my first incarnation of dread-locked life. I didn't know how to get it started, so I just grew my hair out, didn't wash it much, and twisted, and twisted, and twisted, and twisted....about 6 months later, I had stubby dreads. I only grew them on the top of my head, and they grew out pretty well. In 1998 I got into the habit of trimming them. This eventually led to a couple falling out. I thought I was going bald (and I was told by a recruiter that his company wouldn't hire me because of my hair - I should have sued), so on January 2, 2000, I cut off my dreads.
For the next several months, there were a number of 2nd takes when I would run into people who didn't recognize me on first glance. It was funny.
Flash forward to 2003. I had been at De Anza for 2 years, taken a year off to go to Berkeley, and thought now is the time to start up the hair again. I started dreading again in early 2004, and by Summer 2004, I had the stubs again, and they grew and grew and grew, and now, 4 years later, they are 15 inches long.
People often want to ask me things about my hair, and I can see they hesitancy in their faces (sometimes they never even ask), so I'll answer some of the questions I've been asked.
The most asked questions deal with washing it.
I wash it about every 3 days (it's actually not the best idea to wash your hair everyday, you everyday hair washers). The drying part is the real pain. I use a combination of hair drying, towel, and flicking. After I use a hair dryer and a towel, I spend about 45 minutes twisting each one from the root to about an inch or two from my scalp. I then flick water out of the dread. It usually takes 5-6 hour to get completely dry.
My also get (often from kids) requests to touch my hair.
In college, I remember being at house parties, and having drunken students (usually women) coming up to me from behind and touching or running their hands through my hair. I never really saw why they did this, I just assumed they were drunk.
I also remember a friend of mine with 'spring-y' wanting to play with my hair. I would let her do it, if I could play with hers.
About a year ago, my then 4-year old cousin-in-law asked why I had my hair like I did. I said I liked it. I then asked him the same question. He said he liked his. We then proceeded to touch each others hair (it sounds odder than it actually was).
It doesn't bother me at all when people ask me questions about my hair (or even want to touch it). I'd much rather people ask than assume. I've gone through my life (and many airport security checkpoints) with too many people making assumptions about who or what I am.
2008
posted by Jefferson at 9:27 PM
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