If you are not among the 5 million people who have already watched this video, then you just gotta. Yes, this is Will and Jada’s daughter, and yes she’s only nine, which is a bit weird frankly. Nonetheless, we are loving little Willow Smith’s positive vibe and message to the young girls. Here’s what she told MTV:
“Whip My Hair means don’t be afraid to be yourself, and don’t let anybody tell you that that’s wrong. Because the best thing is you.“
Snaps! Willow seems to have much in common with a young muppet who also released her single this week. Did the two plan it together? Hard to say. But you can bet there’s already a Willow Vs. Sesame Street remix. Happy weekend!
There was an interesting article this morning on MSNBC about how some women just don’t care about formaldehyde if they can get frizz-free hair. From the piece:
“Chemicals are a way of life now,” says Stefeny Anderson, a 36-year-old event planner from Renton, Wash., who got her first Brazilian Blowout two weeks ago in an effort to tame “corkscrew curls” that frizz at the slightest hint of rain (a given in Washington state). “It’s not like you’re putting it in your hair every day.”
One thing we’ve tried to make abundantly clear is that if you know what’s in your products, and you want to go ahead and use them anyways because you like the cosmetic result, we think that’s fine. What is tricky about the Brazilian blowout, though, is that even if somene is cool with some formaldehyde, the workers are the ones being exposed to those fumes on a daily basis—to say nothing of the other clients in the salon at the time, who didn’t sign up for the BB.
Now if Brazilian blowouts were always done in glass boxes, like the weird smoking room at the airport, and everyone who walked in knew what they were signing up for—well, hey, that would be a different story.
What’s your take?
Last night I had one of those magical first chats with a perfect stranger. We covered a lot of ground, but as is often the case with me: All roads lead to hair. Hers was a very lovely, curly weave. Which I would have never guessed had she not told me, and had we not been touching each other’s curls to compare textures.
Of course this lead us into a brief conversation about the cultural politics of hair, and how those politics play out for little girls and their afros—a subject covered with great skill and humor by Chris Rock in his documentary Good Hair. All that to say, I was pretty thrilled to see the above video posted on Treehugger by Emma Grady this morning. I love that Sesame Street is encouraging young black girls to wear their hair naturally! But the fact remains that many black women do not… And I understand why. I am, after all, a girl who formaldehyded her own curls into submission with the Brazilian blowout, and earlier tried adding length to it with extensions.
So, what about you: Do you wear a weave or extensions?
Yes, Brazilian blowouts are toxic. It’s official. But I’d like to talk about something else for a moment: They can also completely mess up your hair. Behold the unflattering exhibits above.
I was pretty shocked to revisit these pictures, and see just how awful my hair looked. Part of me was starting to think that I’d maybe overreacted at the time. I hadn’t.
If you’re wondering why I cataloged my hair like a crazy person, it’s because Siobhan and I were sending each other pictures like these over instant message to check in on whether our $400 blowouts were worth it. We sure thought so at first.
In picture 1, my hair felt silky smooth. I could even run my fingers through it, something that had never happened before (and hasn’t since). But beyond that first month of bliss? The situation started to seriously degrade. As my real hair tried to break through the toxic veneer, I was left with a dry, flat mess.
I really thought I’d ruined my hair for good. I went to the salon to complain, only to be scolded by a mean (and actually Brazilian) hairdresser. Just that morning we had Google-panicked about the treatment, but he yelled at me when I questioned its safety. I cried the entire drive home. Let me tell you, it was a rough few weeks.
Of course, my story has a happy ending. Eventually my hair came back to as the treatment washed out over time, and now it’s really healthy. That awful experience also happened to give us an idea for a book. You may have heard of it?
But my heart seriously goes out to the women who have shared their stories with us, some of whom are currently panicking about their hair just like we did. The other day I met a natural hairdresser who told me that she’s had to “treat” women whose hair began falling out from repeated Brazilians. I really find it heartbreaking!
I’ll be honest, I’m a little embarrassed to share these pictures—but I’m just so sick of hearing the rebuttals about why this toxic treatment is worth it.
Are you still convinced?
Oh, hey, look at this: A hair product claiming to be formaldehyde-free isn’t. Which is not surprising to us as all, but is still big news. The Center for Research on Occupational and Environmental Toxicology in Oregon was contacted by a Portland salon when the straightening solution they were using in their salon caused difficulty breathing, nose bleeds and eye irritation in stylists using the product as directed.
Guess what the product was? Brazilian-blowout straightening solution, which was labeled explicitly formaldehyde free.
The Oregon OSHA laboratory analyzed the sample using four different test methods. Formaldehyde was reported to be detected by each method at 10.6%, 6.3%, 10.6% and 10.4% of the product.
Because our Brazilian blowout inspired us to write our book in the first place, we get asked about this a lot. And in the last little while, we keep getting the question-statement: But Brazilian blowouts don’t use formaldehyde anymore!(?) To which we always say: Perhaps not, but they do use biformyl, which is also known as glyoxal and Oxaldehyde, and is a relative of formaldehyde, that isn’t particularly safe and also sometimes also contains the big F.
You can see some toxicological info for that chemical here and here. Note how the second one, under “exposure” it says: “AVOID ALL CONTACT!” (Caps and exclamation mark are, for once, not ours.)
Image via
Grab a bottle, any bottle, and flip er over. On the ingredient list, you are very likely to see cyclopentasiloxane. It’s a sleek, smooth and revolting silicone that makes your hair shine and your foundation go on even and your antiperspirant slip on in a nice thin layer. It’s used in thousands of beauty products, and according to Skin Deep, it rates pretty low on the human-toxics scale. It’s also an evil fish killer, apparently.
Quoting: “Government assessments show [cyclopentasiloxane] could be killing fish and other aquatic life after it washes down the drain and into the water supply.” Nice, right?
And so Canada might be banning it—an effort they’ve had underway for a couple of years already. It’s pretty wild to think about what would happen if Canada succeeded in restricting or banning this stuff. Hopefully, if it happens, the companies that reformulate without cyclopentasiloxane will take it as an opportunity to get smart about ingredients and not just throw in some other chemical we know even less about.
Silicones are on our no-no list, and we hope they’re on yours—if not because they’re gross, then for the fishes.
For new readers, we announced a hair challenge last week—natural shampoo and conditioner, no heat, no products, then say cheese. Well, the results are in and they are amazing. Look at all of these beautiful women! And Jordan! And Conall! We can’t believe how many of you did it—among them Alexandra’s sister (see if you can guess which one she is), three of Siobhan’s cousins, our lit agent, our book editor, a bunch of friends, and a whole lot of strangers. What we can believe, however, is how fabulous and pretty you all look.
Many of you expressed surprise at how good your hair looked when you didn’t mess with it, which was sort of the point. In the next few days we will share some of your individual stories as inspiration. But for now, it’s picture time, so enjoy!
1. Sharalyn; 2. Lauren, Columbus, Ohio; 3. Aster, Netherlands; 4. Emily, New Jersey; 5. Jordan of JordanSamuelFragrances.com; 6. Shannon; 7. Amy, Glasgow; 8. Rocio, Glasgow; 9. Talia; 10. Anonymous; 11. Amy; 12. Allison, Urbana, Illinois; 13. Jenn, Arizona; 14. Molly, Los Angeles; 15. Jenn, Nashville; 16. Marna, Columbus, Ohio; 17. Sarah, Washington, DC; 18. Belle, Portland; 19. Lisa, Los Angeles; 20. Bridget, Denver; 21. Kate, Switzerland; 22. Adrianna, California; 23. Lauren, Houston; 24. Amanda, New York; 25. Rebecca, Phoenix; 26. Sheryl, New York; 27. Carolina, Los Angeles; 28. Acree; 29. Dianna, Boone, North Carolina; 30. Karyn, Brooklyn; 31. Tina, Brooklyn; 32. Lauren, Ottawa; 33. Alissa, Long Beach, California; 34. Ilana, Toronto; 35. Mary; 36. Jan, New York; 37. Sarah, Little Rock, Arkanas; 38. Conall, Montreal; 39. Jennifer, New York; 40. Julianne; 41. Emilia, Brooklyn; 42. Casey, Philadelphia; 43. Emily, Southern Indiana; 44. Allison, Austin; 45. Anonymous; 46. Kei, Vancouver; 47. Maria, Tampa; 48. Kathryn, Toronto; 49. Ania, New York; 50. Meghan-Rose, Washington, DC; 51. Nicola, Toronto; 52. Ishka; 53. Abby, Chicago; 54. Cara; 55. Sabrina, Tel Aviv; 56. Alice; 57. Hartley, Henderson Harbor, New York; 58. Maya, Brooklyn; 59. Samantha, Windsor, Ontario; 60. Traci, Macon, Georgia; 61. Laura, New York; 62. Virginia of www.beautyschooledproject.com; 63. Maeve, Kingston, Ontario; 64. Christine, Los Angeles; 65. Katherine, London; 66. Katie, Brooklyn; 67. Anni, Chicago; 68. Dani, Bellingham, Washington; 69. Katie, Little Rock; 70. Anna, New York; 71. Amy, Des Moines; 72. Marina, London.
My childhood was marked by nightly, teary-eyed hair brushings. I’d sit as my mother tried her best—bless her soul—to unknot my matted curls, often catching my ears and cheeks with the rough bristles. It was time-consuming and it hurt and I wondered somewhere in my child brain why I was being punished.
Over the years I sort of grew to appreciate my unruly hair—that is by leaving handfuls of product in it. The worst kind. Every day. I just thought that coating it in a ton of crap was the only way to deal with coarse, curly hair. Of course that made for unpleasant build-up every few days, at which point I would lather up dutifully with shampoo (which made my hair look awful) and start the whole ritual over again. I spent an inordinate amount of money on a ridiculous array of products, many of which ended sitting half-finished in my shower.
Then one day I tried an experiment. Those who have read the book know about this: I stopped washing my hair entirely. For several months I actually didn’t use a thing. You’ll have to read the book for the whole story, but suffice to say it’s been over a year and a half since I’ve gone near shampoo. I have some other tricks up my sleeve, like amazing natural conditioners that I rinse through my hair, a baking soda “wash” that works like a charm, and a hair treatment that I do every few days. But no foaming, folks.
The result? Healthier, happier, soft—soft!—hair. No leave-ins, except a for few naturals when I’m feeling fancy. Dare I say… liberation? How often do you shampoo? And do you think I’m totally gross? Be honest.
Okydoke, it’s time for the “what our hair was like before we switched to naturals” post. It explains why we launched the Summer Hair Challenge, it’s related to why we wrote the book, and it speaks to one of our core messages, which is: Less is freaking more. Translation: So many of our products bite us in the ass.
I used to be a four-or-five-hair-products-a-day person and I didn’t think that was particularly high-maintenance. It was just that I had poodle hair sometimes, especially in the summer. I live in New York and grew up in Montreal, islands both, frizzy-hair-makers both. And frizz, every girl knows, sucks eggs. And so I used products.
I used to wake up, hop in the shower, use Garnier Fructis Sleek and Shine shampoo and conditioner, or if I was feeling rich I’d use Rene Furterer’s stuff. Then I’d load Phytodefrisant onto my wet hair, and once blow-dried (and sometimes also ironed), I would use one or two finishing serums that probably had silicone or some other garbage in it.
My hair looked how I wanted it to look, but do the math: that’s expensive, and a pain. I was also unwittingly exposing myself to 11 of the 20 ingredients on our Black List—daily. (For more on what’s in shampoo, check this out.)
Anyway, eventually I realized the unmanageableness (?) of my hair was squarely the fault of the products I was using, and when I made the switch, my hair chilled out. Ever seen a baby with decimated ends? Do we think Pocanhontas had flyaways?
But as we have said in the past: if you’ve made the switch to clean products and are still beefing with some frizz, here are my two favorite tricks: spritz with pure aloe juice in a spray bottle before drying, and for a finisher, argan oil—just a dab, smoothed over the top layer of dry hair.
You got any tricks you like?
Our inbox is already flooding with pictures of fuss-free summer hair in all its glory—and we’re expecting many more thanks to this post on Jezebel (you know, only one of our favorite websites ever—thanks, Sadie!).
However, if you’re stumped—as some ladies appear to be—on what natural products to use for the challenge, here are a few that we like: There are many more in the book but John Masters and Intelligent Nutrients are fancy favorites available at many Whole Foods locations as well as online at sites like Spirit Beauty Lounge and ABC, and Aubrey Organics and Giovanni are two clean and affordable brands you can easily find at your local drug or health food store. So, no more excuses!
Anyone have any other natural favorites to share?
One special note: Some people find that their hair takes a few days to adjust to the less-foamy natural shampoos. Take our word and give it a minute—you have a week to send in your photo!
