Decolonising My Hair

I'm of the era that would watch my older sister and her friends, use an iron and tea towel to straighten their hair.  The days when Avon was a "thing" and watching the girls get dressed up to go clubbing at Dan's would become my life goal. Colonisation 1 Vs My Hair 0.

My first visit to a hair salon, was when a hairdresser came to our Maori class to find 'thick, dark brown hair' for her hair competition. She would photograph one of us with our hair and makeup, so if you can imagine a room full of teenage girls, jumping at such the opportunity. The only catch was she wanted to cut, colour and straighten our hair. My friends without hesitation, said "No, she's not changing our hair." This ruled out everyone but me. I didn’t have the long, curly, beautiful hair they had. Mine was straight frizz.

I spent 8 hours on a school day in a salon watching women come in and out of that salon. Drinking my first cappuccino and reading Vogue and Women's Weekly. I shared about my school life and how much I loved kapahaka. After two dye sessions, it was clear to me the hairdresser was no good, and clear to my hairdresser, my hair was going to do what she had planned. So, she decided to go with it and created her concept from my stories.  Sitting outside Rehua Marae at 9pm, a light dusting of rain undoing all of her hard work and my kapahaka uniform on, I felt like the beez-neez. Colonisation 0 Vs My Hair 1.