Mpho wearing a rolled up long sleeve T-shirt, assortment of South African
bangles, discreet stud earrings and a trangus piercing.
When I look at Mpho all I can say is "curvaceous derriere", "eyes", "full lips", "hips" and wow "Black is beautiful", which makes me wonder; why is there marginalisation of black women in the fashion and beauty industry and a general lack of appreciation of black women’s beauty in wider society?
Mpho's haircut reminds me of super model Alek Wek who emerged on the international fashion stage in 1995, the industry beheld her Hershey complexion and short, kinky hair and pronounced her ugly, so in the words of Mpho herself.
Mpho's haircut reminds me of super model Alek Wek who emerged on the international fashion stage in 1995, the industry beheld her Hershey complexion and short, kinky hair and pronounced her ugly, so in the words of Mpho herself.
“I remember when I finally 'found' the courage, somewhere inside of me to shave off my hair. I say finally because it had been on my mind for quite some time, but truthfully speaking I was bricking it. I had mixed emotions and I know some people probably think "It’s only hair, it grows back it’s not a big deal", but oh trust me this was huge to me. Going to a predominantly 'black college' in London meant that there was competition amongst myself and the rest of the girls. I had to look the best, and my hair always had to be on point too. Whenever I took out my weave, I wouldn’t be caught “DEAD” leaving my house or being seen with my natural hair, I just never felt like I was “ME”. I wouldn’t feel better, until I had returned to Peckham for my new identity. My dad hates weave with a passion, and would often comment about how 'lost and brainwashed' I was, my mum having dreadlocks didn’t help the situation. I think the turning point was when I visited South Africa last year and saw so many beautiful girls with shaved heads, walking around proudly and through that experience I vowed that when I got back to London I would do the same, but I didn’t. Some time had gone by and it wasn’t until for one of my assignments in college I was required to produce a documentary and instantly I knew what my topic would be about. I had recently seen Chris Rocks documentary 'Good Hair' and singer/presenter Jamelia's documentary 'Whose Hair Is It Anyway' on TV. I decided I would go out to the “capitals” of weave and extensions Peckham, Brixton, Streatham etc. Armed with my DV camera, I went around and asked people of all ages, ethnic groups and genders on their opinions on why women, especially of black descent had abandoned their natural hair and were now running towards weaves and wigs, were they ashamed of their Natural beauty? Was society, the media, and women we saw on music videos and television to blame? The answers I got were more surprising than anything.
I started to question myself, and looked up to black powerful women such as Erykah Badu, India Arie, Chrissette Michelle and Solange Knowles; to name a few, if they could uphold their beauty whilst sporting their natural hair, why couldn’t I?. Having a weave was just “STRESS”, I was spending money I didn’t have, for something when I come to think of, didn’t particularly want. I just thought about the pain of having to rip glue from my scalp when it was time to remove the weave, strands of my hair ripped out with it, a receding hairline at such a tender age. Overall I thought of the freedom I would have without all that “FAKE” hair, shedding it everywhere I went. With an extra push from my friends, on June 2nd 2011 (yes I remember the date lol), I was sitting opposite a mirror in “Top Barbers”, and watched as clippers buzzed through my scalp. Some reactions were harsh and negative, but I didn’t have a care in the world, I did this for myself and no one else and anyone out there who has anything bad to say, all I can say to you is I didn’t care about your opinion then and I don’t care now. I don’t need you attention or co-signatory, I “LOVE” my new look and I refuse to conform to what society claims beauty to be.”
Amidst the struggles with mainstream social obstacles Mpho revels in her natural beauty, which adversity may shun, but would never ever be able to take it away from her. It is only fitting that I use the words of Maya Angelou in her poem "Still I Rise".
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.
To finish off I must say, Mpho and her picture provide us with a more wholesome view of black beauty and also proof that no matter what the mainstream fashion/beauty industry feeds us, women do not have to portray overly seductive “Jezebels” in order to be considered beautiful.
Amidst the struggles with mainstream social obstacles Mpho revels in her natural beauty, which adversity may shun, but would never ever be able to take it away from her. It is only fitting that I use the words of Maya Angelou in her poem "Still I Rise".
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.
To finish off I must say, Mpho and her picture provide us with a more wholesome view of black beauty and also proof that no matter what the mainstream fashion/beauty industry feeds us, women do not have to portray overly seductive “Jezebels” in order to be considered beautiful.
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