Oh, Lawd, not another conversation about black Hair,
began Elizabeth Wellington’s Mirror, Mirror column in the Inquirer Magazine section on March 01, 2013.
My answer then and now is:


As a child I sat under a miserable contraction with wires
that came down from overhead and that were attached to big clips that where clamped on my hair that was tightly curled up. I had two fears, electrocution and that if I were to bend my head even slightly the weight of this contraption on my head would cause my head to separate from my body. The glorious result? Thanks to the need for curls I spent most of my childhood dealing with split ends. And, just in case anyone is wondering, the perms never really worked. Right after the ordeal my hair frizzed, then over the next several weeks it gradually became straighter and straighter. The split ends, though, were constant.
My friends of color
NO MORE!
I refuse
My advice to the women of the world?
Leave your hair alone!
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