Debbie Rigaud is author of the young adult book Perfect Shot (pictured above), the first of Simon & Schuster Pulse Romantic Comedies series to feature an African-American (and natural haired!) protagonist. She reminisces on her hair story, and how it shaped her desire to feature a natural heroine.

Author Debbie Rigaud

Growing up, I was shaped by what other people said about me. My most talked-about characteristics were, of course, the most physically obvious ones—my lanky, skinny frame and my big hair. So, for the first ten years of my life, I thought I had long hair. I’d heard enough negative comments about my size to lead me to assume I wasn’t great-looking, but it sounded like I had the long hair thing in the bag.

Sure, I had reference for what long hair really looked like. Thanks to TV, I was aware of the “Jan Brady”s in the world. And then there was the Irish-American woman my uncle lived with (my cousins and I would play with her thigh-length hair like we were maypole dancing). But once I heard other people’s “long hair” remarks about me, I obediently drank the Kool-Aid.

For years I existed comfortably with this belief, until I switched elementary schools from an all-Black to an all-Latino/Italian/Portuguese one. There I was on the first day of fifth grade, with my freshly-pressed, shoulder-blade-length hair tightly pulled back into a ponytail. I had carefully read the school handbook, which sternly ordered all girls with long hair to wear ponytails—or else. Naturally, I complied. As a new student, I did not want to start off on the wrong foot.

I’ll never forget the cheeky girl with the XXLong pony tail pointing at me and snickering as my new classmates and I were led to our homeroom in an orderly fashion. It was then that it struck me that the school handbook wasn’t referring to me at all. The “long hair” bubble I was living in finally burst and I floated out of it. Sure, I was a bit shocked, but I was also free to wear my hair in any style I chose.

As I neared puberty, the new conversation was that straight hair made me look pretty. When my grandmother visited from DC, she’d bring along her straightening combs and my sisters and I all took turns in the “hot seat.” Nevermind that as a tween, I cartwheeled rather than walked, thus sweating out my hair faster than Grandma’s Greyhound bus mascot can run. I still cherished those few days when my hair was straight. It was my all-access pass to Pretty.

By high school, I’d learned how to stretch out my press and curl for weeks, until either my grandma visited or my aunt took pity on me and ran a hot comb through. Back then, most salons didn’t want to spend the time required to straighten a thick head of hair like mine, so I didn’t go to them. My private decision to forego the bone straight relaxed look became fodder for more communal discussion. “Somebody needs a touch-up bad,” I’d hear girls cracking as I’d walk by with my blow-out in sad shape. People wondered why I didn’t just perm my hair. It was the easy choice. And as with every other social activity in high school, everybody else was doing it. Why wasn’t I?

I debated the pros and cons for over a year. At 19, I decided a perm would give me more ownership over my hair. No longer would I have to wait around for a relative to straighten it for me. I still remember sitting in my hairdresser’s seat, listening to her squeal on about “all this virgin hair!” She couldn’t believe her luck and couldn’t want to break me in.

For me, the biggest “wow” factor about the perm was how water flattened my hair. Amazing.

But I gave it about two more touch-ups, and then I abandoned the relaxer altogether. My hair just felt too synthetic. I didn’t like it. I kept my hair braided and kept clipping at the ends. By the time I was a sophomore in college, I’d settled comfortably in the two cornrows hairstyle, and later, my trademark twists.

Of course, this decision generated chatter as well. To some, I was squandering my beauty. And to my mother in particular, I was offending my family, since I come from a line of hair straightening professionals. This profession fed, clothed and educated the generation ahead of me and now I was too good to wear my hair straight? To appease her, I’d straighten my hair from time to time.

Once I was approached by a younger Black girl who wanted to know where I was from. “East Orange,” I told her. She disagreed, and said that with my “long hair,” I must be from somewhere else. I didn’t want to affirm her assumption, but she gave me that I-knew-it look when she uncovered that my parents are from Haiti. I had come face-to-face with yet another girl who bought into that same ole story as I once had — that long or straight hair equaled beauty and that “regular”/non-mixed black girls were effectively locked out from achieving society’s highest standards of beauty.

I thought about that girl years later when I came across reader mail while working at Seventeen magazine. A 17-year-old Black girl wrote in looking for advice on how to tell her mother she wanted to get a perm. She wrote that she felt awkward being the only girl without a relaxer because people were talking about her. I responded to her letter, encouraging her to be certain that any decision she made be for herself and not for others. We began a correspondence, freely discussing hair politics and the social pressures surrounding it. In the end, she got the green light from her mom and excitedly relaxed her hair. That became, I’m sure, the start of but one interesting chapter in that girl’s hair story.

There’s something deeply affirming about rocking the natural look. I see the power it has to spread awareness, encouragement and inspiration and I kept this in mind as I dreamed up a fictional Black girl named London Abrams. London is the main character in my young adult book PERFECT SHOT—the first book in Simon & Schuster’s Simon Pulse Romantic Comedies series to feature a Black protagonist. She’s a sporty girl with a full head of kinky curls that she rocks as if it isn’t any issue at all. When London unwittingly enters a modeling contest, she never feels the need to straighten her hair to fit in or enhance her beauty. Hopefully girls of all hair textures and hairstyles accept London as one representation of them.

It’s funny. I’ve never worked in a corporate environment. That grammar school handbook was my closest brush with hairstyle restrictions. I have always been free to wear my ‘do any way I choose. Yet my hairstyle choices have struck a lot of nerves, sparked plenty of debates, and caused lots of heads to turn in admiration, shake in disgust and nod in acknowledgment. But I learned something key along my personal hair journey. Yes, everyone will share their opinion about my choice of coif, but people’s comments say way more about them—their fears, beliefs (imagined or real), desires—than they ever will about me.

And I think young black girls everywhere need to know that.

For more information about Perfect Shot, check out Debbie’s website HERE and her blog HERE.

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K rocking her big chop

This crazy, sad, cute and heartening story (I know… I was in a glass case of emotion when I read it!) was submitted by reader Jarquisha…

A couple years ago my sister decided that she just could not handle the natural texture of my 2 year old niece’s hair. So she let my mother put the Just For Me Texture softener (texturizer) in her hair which, coupled with her scalp eczema, caused her hair to break off severely.

K, texturized




Lucky for her she has a natural aunt, ME, who was willing to take care of her hair… Here’s her big chop! I’m so proud of her because she’s only 4 years old and handled it like a big girl… she LOVES her hair now!

I’m glad, but I’m also sad — sad that black girls are socialized so early to be unfamiliar with their hair texture. Why do you think black mothers are choosing to relax their babies’ hair so early? Is this a trend?

I also want to thank Jarquisha’s sister for giving BGLH permission to post her baby’s pictures, for the sake of discussion. Of course, the baby will remain nameless.

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Just a week ago, on the heels of a disastrous meeting with an instructor at a well-known beauty school, I made an open call for your beauty industry tips. In response BGLHer Aeleise Harris, a licensed Chicago stylist, submitted an interesting piece on how beauty school works — and how natural hair product companies are partially to blame for the ignorance that exists at a professional level.

Below is a re-post of the story, which can be found on Clutch HERE.

“But you have to understand, we don’t study natural hair here. We study real hair.”

I was on the phone with an instructor from a well-known Chicago beauty school and I just finished asking her about natural hair care basics, things like daily moisturizing, deep conditioning, detangling and clarifying. Her cluelessness became quickly evident and yet, her company wanted her to speak at an event for naturals that I was organizing.

I was excited at first, when I heard a fancy-pants Chicago beauty school liked my site and wanted to partner. And somehow, I was still optimistic when I was told the designated speaker tried, and failed, to go natural.

But my hopes were pretty much dashed with her declaration of the unrealness of natural hair. I think it was the fact she spoke the words without a hint of the gross irony.

After that conversation I set out to understand how – despite existing in an age where Black celebrities are taking razors to their heads in the name of naturalness — the mainstream beauty industry seems so blind to it all.

I asked my readers to submit their insider beauty industry insights. Reader Aeleise Harris, a licensed Chicago stylist, shared her experience;

“The haircare industry is lagging behind its consumers when it comes to natural hair. White companies don’t market to us and the Black companies only teach about relaxers. There is a serious disconnect between a.) consumers who want and need licensed professionals to care for their natural hair, b.) companies that produce natural products but provide no advanced education on natural hair c.) mainstream product companies that don’t even acknowledge the natural movement, and d.) stylists who can’t/won’t access the education to branch into natural haircare.”

I attended the Aveda Institute Tallahassee in 2005-2006 where care for Black hair — even how to relax it — was barely taught. Natural hair was discussed even less, except in the context of flat iron silking/chemical texturizing it. I learned natural hair through my and my friends’ experiences. Upon moving back to Chicago, I attended a Black hair school to get extra certification hours, and natural hair was only taught in the context of pressing it.

Beauty school is designed to teach you hair theory — the anatomy, chemistry, and the disorders of hair and scalp – the safe use of chemical treatments, and basic cutting and styling techniques that can be used on a majority of hair types. A beauty school’s only goal is to help students pass the state board exam, which is normally a 100-question computerized test.

After that your real education begins. Advanced classes are where stylists hone their skills of cut, color and style. Most of these classes are provided by companies that produce salon professional products, like Aveda, Redken, and Mizani.

But natural hair product companies go consumer direct, completely bypassing the licensed stylist. And unlike companies like Aveda, they are not providing the advanced education stylists rely on to build their educational arsenal. They do not stock their products in professional-only stores — and I should note that the average product in a professionals store is 30 to 50 percent less than retail.

Many professional stylists want to incorporate natural hair into their service menus, but first the education must be accessible and experiential and the products must be salon quality.”

Thanks again Aeleise for submitting this information! Show her some love by checking out her site HairLoveArt.

The call for tips is still open. If you have beauty news (good or bad) that needs to be heard, submit it to blackgirllonghair@gmail.com. Put “Beauty Tips” in the header.

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Lexi, who entered our July Now and Then giveaway, sent in an interesting comment with her photos.

“I transitioned for 7 months and big chopped on May 7, 2010. I was the last of my girls to do the BC so we threw a BC party, had some wine, pizza, and all around fun!”

I was surprised when I read that because, honestly, I’ve never heard of that before (even though it’s a fairly straightforward and fun idea!) But I do keep hearing stories of women transitioning together (like them and them), doing the big chop together and just having fun with it.

Would you throw a party celebrating your “big chop”? Have any of you actually done it?

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Photo taken at a South Side Chicago Target.

After our discussion about ideal leave-in conditioners, I scribbled a few notes and headed to Target. The smell of Target reminds me of college (yeh, I used to be a Tar-jay junkie) but the haircare aisle had DEFINITELY changed.

By now most naturals know that mega American retailer Target is carrying well-known natural hair brands like Miss Jessie’s, Shea Moisture, Jane Carter Solution and Curls, with Kinky Curly soon to follow. But to see it with my own eyes was pretty amazing.

Right there, front and center, were natural brands that I recognized. They weren’t pigeonholed under an “Ethnic Haircare” sign, or bundled with crappy petroleum-laced products. There they sat. Alone and proud. Change in a conditioner bottle.

Forgive me if I sound emotional. But there are deeper implications here.

I recently wrote a piece about the state of the black hair industry and how, when it comes to leveling the very uneven playing field, natural entrepreneurs are at the front lines. From brands like Kinky Curly and Shea Moisture to women whipping up hair butters in their kitchens and selling to family and friends, naturals are bringing black business ownership back to black haircare, and generating much-needed competition against larger brands.

Products from Miss Jessie’s, Shea Moisture, Jane Carter Solution and Curls have been repeatedly referenced as “favs” of various natural regimens, and it’s great to see that recognized on such a large scale. Congrats to you all! Much love from BGLH!

And to my readers, what do you think of Target carrying well-respected natural brands?

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Via Clutch Magazine

New pictures were recently released of Naomi Campbell at a New York photoshoot. What is your reaction?

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So, if you have a Twitter account, you know that Essence Magazine hosted a natural hair chat on its website yesterday.

I was planning to participate, but Chicago had an EPIC set of storms yesterday. Power went out at the coffee shop I was at (Buzz Cafe for all you Oak Parkians) and I was pretty much stranded.

Did you participate in the chat? What are your thoughts? Did you get new information? How were the celebrities and celebrity stylists?

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Every Chris Brown fan knows that he has color issues and that he prefers to date only light skinned women. They say that when one impulsively lashes out in anger, they open a window into their true character.



Yesterday, Chris Brown threw open that window giving us a wider insight into his self hatred in a series of tweets attacking the part of me that he despises the most — my skin color.



Laugh if you want to, but you should know that this is how Chris Brown feels about an entire group of people with brown skin — not just one.



If you have beautiful brown skin, you should be offended by his “spook by the door” insults and the message he sends to his young fans that it is OK to disparage and ridicule people with darker skin hue than his.

Sandra’s Rallying cry brought many readers to her defense. Even I, who knew very little about her, mentioned it on my personal Facebook page.

Now, just a month later, Sandra has titled an article “Celeb Style: Solange Knowles Throws an Afro Wig Over Her Naps.” (Thanks Robin for emailing this to me!)

Sandra says;

When Beyonce’s sister Solange Knowles first debuted her short nappy hair cut, bloggers howled. Her own fans dissed her on message boards and even her ex-boyfriend Bow Wow went in on her on his Twitter page:

“What is going on with all these young ladies today cutting their hair and carrying themselves like men? Stop that! As a man, I don’t want to look at you and see myself in your reflection.”

Soon Solo was forced to defend her unkempt natural ‘do by claiming she was making a statement (yeah, right).



Well, Solange finally grew tired of the jabs and barbs. Solo threw an afro wig over her naps when she DJ’d a set at TAO Beach in las Vegas over the weekend.



Work it girl! — that nappy look was not working for you, baby.

Really Sandra?

Well first off I’m not really seeing how Solange’s hair was “unkempt”. So I’m just going to assume that’s code language for short and coily.

Second, dark skin and “naps” (as you call them) are features common to a MAJORITY of black people worldwide. How can you on the one hand defend “beautiful black skin” and turn around and disparage “naps”?

How is Chris Brown’s “self-hatred” any different from yours?

And P.S., “Bow Wow” isn’t a reputable source on…. anything.

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Image via Le Coil (amazing natural hair site!)

My, how a table has turned!

Gawker.com just ran a piece about American Apparel’s standards for its employees, looks wise. The article is interesting, but what caught my eye is what it said about black women…

Another former AA (American Apparel) manager says that she received the following instructions as to what kind of black girls she should try to hire during the company’s open calls:



“none of the trashy kind that come in, we don’t want that. we’re not trying to sell our clothes to them. try to find some of these classy black girls, with nice hair, you know?”



i will remember that forever, especially the “nice hair” part. he was instructing another manager and i on who to look for during an upcoming open call, and i sat there dumbfounded, listening to him speak while the other manager made “uh huh, got it” sounds on her end of the phone. the other manager on the call with me later became a district manager, and at one point instructed me to tell two of my employees (both of whom happened to be black females) to stop straightening their hair. i refused to do this, but wondered if the mentality behind her request was related to what dov had said.

This is blowing my mind just a little bit. Not in an ‘oh-this-is-so-great’ kinda way… but in a ‘what-in-the-??’ kinda way.

After blogging for 2 years, posting story after story of companies/educators/media personalities discriminating against kinks and curls, it is quite a paradigm shift to see that discrimination head in the other direction!

Of course, I do not condone American Apparel’s “looks policy”. Wrong is wrong — even when the benefits fall in my column. At the same time, we’ve discussed that emerging evidence (like the proliferation of natural haired commercial models and actresses like her, her, her and her) seems to point to the fact that mainstream media just might be starting to see natural hair the same way we do — as TOTALLY awesome!!!

At the end of the day, I don’t want to read too much into what the American Apparel manager said. I don’t know the backstory or why exactly he/she wanted the black female employees to stop straightening. But this is interesting nonetheless…

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