The Inner Monologue Of A Black Girl Getting Her Braids Done

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Lo and behold, braids come in all shapes and sizes and colors. How do I know that? I’ve had mine done in all shapes and sizes and colors. Depending on numerous variables, braids can take shorter or longer than the number of hours depicted here. The following is just based off my most recent experience, which was yesterday.

Side Note: I am not going to apologize to all the Black girls who a.) don’t relate to this b.) don’t get braids. Also friendly tip for White people: sometimes braids use extensions, sometimes they don’t. Sometimes braids are the length of a girl’s hair and sometimes they are not. I have enough White girlfriends (and common sense) to know you girls get to go scott-free with extensions, without any FBI questioning. And to anybody who wants to ask anybody, “Is your hair real?” Did they pay for it? Is it on their head? Then it’s real. Swerve.

30 Minutes: Hair washed, conditioned, dried, and now sitting in the chair waiting for the magic to start.

About to get a new “do” finally! This hair is in need of some serious T-L-C. Maybe when I’m done, I’ll go and get my nails did too! Lol, probably not, I’m going  to be so broke after this. It’s worth it though!

1 Hour: Hair being straightened/pressed/combed till death.

Okay, this shit needs to start sometime today. When is she going to stop combing my hair? Oh my God, if she pulls my hair one more time, shit is about to get real! [Hair gets pulled again. Your lady: “Oh did that hurt?” You: “No, I’m okay.”] Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. You’re a grown-ass woman, don’t cry.

2 Hours: Back of hair being braided.

[Whilst touching your hair] Oh my God, we’re not even a quarter of the way through. I’m going to die in this chair. I am going to be the girl who died while doing her hair….I AM SO HUNGRY. Why didn’t I eat before I got here? And I need to pee. No, I’ll hold it for as long as possible. More bathroom breaks, the longer it’ll take. Oh God, I am so hungry.

2 Hours and 45 minutes: Back of hair still being braided.

Why is there so much yelling? Why can’t everybody just use inside voices? Why do I feel like we’re not even a quarter way through yet? [Touches hair] ‘cause we’re not… OH MY GOD, I NEED TO TELL EVERYONE ABOUT THE LADY WHO STRAIGHT UP TOUCHED MY HAIR ON THE L YESTERDAY!

4 Hours: Middle of hair being braided (Plus brief bouts of combing).

Why hasn’t anyone invented a machine to get braids done in an hour? No, seriously, why? This chair is so uncomfortable. I think I am getting a neck sprain…Wait, why is she combing my hair again? Why is she asking if I’m in pain? OF COURSE I AM IN PAIN. Oh God, don’t cry, don’t cry. NEVER AGAIN. I WILL NEVER EVER EVER BE DOING THIS AGAIN.

5 Hours: Front of hair being done.

Honestly, I just want to go home. Forget this shit. I am tired. Maybe I can come in and finish it tomorrow. I need to eat and sleep and I still need to pee. Oh damn, I really need to pee. Can’t hold it any longer.

[Gets out of chair]

Damn, it feels good to stand…

6 Hours: Front of hair still being done.

You know what? I think I’m going to shave my hair off one of these days. Wait, what is she doing?  [Lady starts unbraiding one that she doesn’t think is perfect.] WHY IS SHE UNBRAIDING ONE. NO, IT’S FINE THE WAY IT IS. LEAVE IT ALONE. Dammit. Seriously, I want to shave my hair off.

6 Hours and 30 minutes: DONE!

My eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord… Wait, how much is she charging me for this again? Oh yeah, an arm and a leg. It’s okay, I don’t need to eat for the rest of the month.

Anyway, selfie time. 

image – stevendepolo