A Quote by Susan Rice

Nobody's tried to touch my hair in like, in decades. — © Susan Rice
Nobody's tried to touch my hair in like, in decades.
When I'm in the Switzerland backcountry and nobody around looks like me, people were like, 'Can I touch your hair?'
I wash my hair maybe once every four or five months. But whenever I touch my hair, I wash my hands. I think since I wash my hands a lot and then touch my hair, maybe I'm washing my hair each time. But also, I sweat a lot, and sweat is like a natural shower built into your body.
I've tried everything but celibacy, and I really want to know what it feels like to be touched by someone with a mental touch and not a physical touch.
My hair is just like five pieces of very soft straw that needs managing. I touch my hair a lot, and that makes it crazy.
I got real bored in '96. Wasn't nobody to fight. Nothing to look forward to. That's when I started playing basketball again. Had I not started playing basketball, my boxing career would have failed. But I went from a sport where nobody could touch me to another where I couldn't touch nobody.
I remember being in Atlantic City once when I was 18 or 19, and a sea of people were screaming and pulling their hair because I was there. It was weird. Nobody deserves adulation like that. I tried to explain it to my kids once. I said, 'Mommy used to be kind of cool, kind of like a Britney Spears.
I remember being in Atlantic City once when I was 18 or 19, and a sea of people were screaming and pulling their hair because I was there. It was weird. Nobody deserves adulation like that. I tried to explain it to my kids once. I said, 'Mommy used to be kind of cool, kind of like a Britney Spears.'
I have lived almost seven decades. So I've had my hair journey where I wasn't comfortable with my hair.
Hair is so linked to how we feel and everyone goes for something radical after a break-up, but my advice if you've suffered heartbreak or you’ve broken up with someone is not to touch your hair. It's the first thing women do but you're not in a fit state to make long-term decisions. You'll have to spend four years growing it out. Buy a lipstick instead. Go and kiss loads of other people, but don't f***ing touch your hair.
Fans know my hair is my thing - I flip my hair every time I get in the ring - and believe it or not some spit in my hair. They can't touch to you so they spit on you.
Black women have kinky hair, and we think we have limitations on what we can do. It's interesting that people think, 'Oh this is the only thing they can do.' But if you have blonde, straight hair and don't change it for 20 years - nobody thinks about it. Nobody says anything!
It was an odd situation. For a century and a half, men got rid of their own hair, which was perfectly comfortable, and instead covered their heads with something foreign and uncomfortable. Very often it was actually their own hair made into a wig. People who couldn't afford wigs tried to make their hair look like a wig.
We were never the cool band to like. They tried to put us into a hair-metal thing, but we weren't really Warrant or Poison. We were always outside the box. I think we had a little niche that nobody had - maybe the funkiness had something to do with it.
He moved to run a hand through her cornrows, then pulled back remembering the one time he's tried that-Connie had lectured him on the Eleventh Commandment: Thou shalt not touch thy black girlfriend's hair. Ever.
I tried perming my hair by myself in lockdown. It came out looking ridiculous - my hair was so damaged and crispy.
When I was modeling in Japan, I could blend in a little because of my hair, but my roommates with blonde hair got harassed. People would touch their hair and grope them in the subway. Actually, a lot of groping happens in the subway in Japan, but that's probably true of subways everywhere.
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