A Quote by Busta Rhymes
I started growing my hair in December '89. I was seventeen. I signed my record deal and said I ain't combing my hair no more. I don't have too.
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My hair story has been unique because my mom's a German Jew, so her hair is way different than my hair. She was always learning on my hair growing up, but I would sit there for hours, and she did learn how to braid hair. Early on, it was a lot of tears while my mom was braiding my hair.
When I was in school, I got there on the first day and everyone had long, blonde, straight hair, and I had short, dark, curly hair. I immediately felt I didn't fit in and started growing my hair. But I've learned that I'm only happy when I am truly me and feel comfortable and confident in myself.
It was very painful combing my hair. My grand-uncle was a Pentecostal bishop, and he was very strict: our hair couldn't be permed or straightened. So I just cut it all off.
I'm more of a short-hair girl; short hair is a lot more low-maintenance than long hair. And when you're in front of camera every day and your hair is being flatironed and blow-dried it's easier to have a weave so you don't damage your own hair.
When I was Elvira, it was probably the phase of my hair getting too high. I thought that if really high hair was good, then really higher hair was even better. So I just started having my hair get higher and higher. In some of the pictures, we had to cut off the picture because it was like Marge Simpson. So that was embarrassing. The wig phase.
I had that hunger to work and keep growing. So I started to cut hair. When I started getting better, I got my own barbershop. I had a lot of clients in my hometown, so I wouldn't stop cutting hair. That's why I think I have such discipline in my job because I've always been very responsible.
Recently started flat ironing my ball hair. Come on ladies, you know how it is; if you have curly hair you just want straight hair.
When I graduated from college, I thought I was losing my hair. And I started looking into hair transplants. I was talking to my mom. My mom said, 'You're crazy. You have so much hair.' It was a real lesson in your mind playing tricks on you. You can make your mind think anything is happening.
My father took me to see Hank Williams on December 14th, 1952. I was two years and four months of age. And I remember a little cool eddy of hair hitting my cheek, and I remember the smell of his hair oil, and I remember the mingling tonality of the small talk before the show started. Those are my memories.
Looking back, letting my hair go natural was an amazing decision because I started getting major ad campaigns. I also signed with agencies in Europe and travelled to many different cities, which I loved. People would stop me in the street and say they loved my hair!
A hairdresser who did my hair said, "You, my darling, have something that we call successful' hair," which is basically battered hair that's split and falling out in the back because you've had to blow-dry it every day. I don't want my hair falling out, so I wear wigs!
I had an investor who said to me he'd keep his money with me as long as I didn't have a girlfriend and I didn't start combing my hair.
I adore my black skin and my kinky hair. The Negro hair is more educated than the white man's hair. Because with Negro hair, where you put it, it stays. It's obedient. The hair of the white, just give one quick movement, and it's out of place. It won't obey. If reincarnation exists I want to come back black.
I don't dye my hair. It's so fabulous. I had brown hair for so long. I was always getting my roots done. Sometimes I did it myself because I couldn't afford to go to a hair salon. When I turned 60, I decided to see what color I am underneath. I started dyeing my hair a very light blond and then I let it grow out. I cut it very short.
Us three brothers - me, Janis, and Martins - we made a bet. We all sat down and said we were going to grow our hair out. But after a month or two, they cut their hair. But I was too young to make the decision about whether I would get a haircut, so mine just kept growing. And it was so long that I decided I should start rocking those cornrows.
It's a classic love story: me and my hair. I have loved my hair. I have betrayed my hair. My hair and I have gone through this long, gut-wrenching relationship.
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