When curly hair becomes the norm
Celebrating the evolution of Egyptian beauty standards
I remember my first haircut. A family friend did it. A puffball of hair to the right. One to the left. And let’s not forget the one right on top of my head, culminating into a less than desired ‘poodle’ look. I was only five at the time, but I still remember that feeling of horror when I first saw myself in the mirror. For years after that, I only let my mom cut my hair.
My mom had her technique. She would stick a piece of tape along the bottom of my freshly washed hair after combing it, and cut right above it in a straight line. It did the trick. How else would you cut hair, much less curly hair? I definitely didn’t know. My mom didn’t know. Nobody around us knew, even though I grew up in a country with an abundance of curls.
Most Egyptians have curly hair like me, but I didn’t see many curls growing up. It just wasn’t the beauty standard and for many, it’s more practical and manageable to straighten it instead of deal with the unruly curls (keeping in mind there were no curly hair products at the time). In Egypt, you can just pop down to your neighborhood ‘coiffeur,’ the one you’ve been going to your whole life, and get a quick blowout for a great price. And let me tell you, those hairdressers know what they’re doing. It’s SO convenient. Back in the day, all the girls I knew would straighten their hair consistently and if not consistently, then for every ‘special’ occasion. We’re talking weddings, birthdays, school functions, outings to the mall, romantic walks. You name it. This is a non-exhaustive list.
I, on the other hand, grew up with an American mother who adored my curls, even prayed that I would have curly hair before I was born, and would bury her face into my curls rather frequently, to my annoyance. My mom was also not in touch with Egyptian women’s beauty standards. This was a sort of blessing in disguise because, while I battled with my hair and sometimes wished that it was straight, I didn’t have the expectation or desire to straighten it, unless it was for the really special occasions (whatever that means). And whenever I did it, I would feel and look so different, that I felt it wasn’t me even though I loved how it looked, maybe too much. I finally felt ‘pretty.’ And that scared me. It felt like a lie, albeit harmless and temporary, but I didn’t want to like the lie more than the truth. And the truth is, I have curly hair. Simple as that. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
On a recent visit to Egypt, I couldn’t help but notice that everywhere I turned, it was curls galore! It made me smile to see how things have changed. It’s exciting to see more and more people wearing their natural curls, to see curly hair products easily available and the rise of the ‘curly’ hairdressers, to see the cultural shift that is freeing from conservative and western influenced beauty standards, and the growing space to embrace whatever it is that makes you feel most authentic to yourself, curly or not.
