Jeez! I haven't blogged in a while. Well, perhaps a week is not long for some, but it is for me. Well, I guess my absence is partly (or no, in large part) due to the fact that my life has been so humdrum lately. Very routine, the same ole', same ole'. Nothing new or different to report.
This weekend I had to take out my beloved wet and wavy braids. Believe it or not, it was my first time doing this style that is so common here in Lagos. I totally loved them and for the first time in a long while, I could see why long hair is considered so utterly sexy. I flipped that hair over and around my shoulders like no one's business (for those who, in the last few weeks, have had cause to sit next to me and gotten an unexpected mouthful of hair flung at them, I truly apologise. LOL!!!!!). Anyway, since my hair is natural, it tends to get rough pretty quickly as my hair starts to kink up. It takes an exteremly skilled braider for this not to happen. I'm still looking for such a person.
I like to take my braids out myself. It's slower than if I went to a salon to get it done, but I'm happier with the results and the process is a lot less painful for me. I've seen women getting their braids undone at the salon and I wince along with them, as the stylists rip the extensions out of their hair with lightening speed. Sure, the braids are out in no time, but it seems like it is with a good chunk of their own hair. Let's not talk about having to take weaves out. As the stylists slice the extensions off with their razors, they inevitably carve out holes in their customers' hair. As much as I would love to save time, I also love my hair very much and kind of want it to remain on my head. I also love to play with my hair and taking out my own hair gives me ample time to do this. The best reason I love to take out my braids though is that this is about the only time that I watch films and can give them my undivided attention.
This weekend, I watched 4 Elizabeth Taylor movies while undoing my hair: Cat on a Hot Tin Roof; Butterfield 8; Father of the Bride; and National Velvet. Needless to say, I had a blast. I drooled over ET's clothes. They were gorgeous and timeless and the kind of clothes that I could see myself wearing (but, of course). I sighed over Paul Newman in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof and how mean his character was to ET's. One thing I really like about old films is how some things are left for the viewer to figure out; I feel that today there is too much hand-holding and bludgeoning movie-goers over the head with the intended message, rather than letting them draw their own conclusions. In Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Paul Newman played a gay man, but never was that said in the film. I marvelled at how Elizabeth Taylor grew up from a rather awkward looking adolescent in National Velvet, complete with a faint moustache, to such a breath-takingly beautiful woman. It should give hope to all ungainly adolescents. I should know; I was one. LOL!
Anyway, back to my hair. It took my about 4 hours on Friday night/Saturday morning and maybe 8/9 hours on Saturday to remove all the braids, but it was well worth it. I missed my hair and am happy to have it back again.