Kanika's Hair regime

My regime is very simple and I do the same thing throughout the year.  I reckon I can get away with this because in London, the seasons can meld into one!  Humidity can be a challenge, but it's rarely too hot or cold to bother with fancy pants, seasonal specific regimes. That's my story and I'm sticking to it!   However, I have also been too lazy, cautious and poor to experiment with lots of different products and techniques, so my reggy has remained pretty much the same for the last 3 years.

I have a lot of hair and try to treat it as gently as possible, but lawdy sometimes it tries my patience! This is what I have to deal with.

Crazy girl hair  - 

Big 'n' poofy at the root, stretched at the ends 

& producty. Time for a wash!

Hair texture

My hair’s like an unruly child, who hates doing what it’s told and loves to run wild and free. It’s thick, dense, with I think normal porosity (but I'm still trying to work that out) and type wise it's a mixture of 3C & 4A. I haven’t properly checked the length for 18mnths when I had my last trim (I know, I know, I’m bad) but it’s about bra-strap length. Here is good guide from NaturallyCurly.com about texture typing. 

Merry Christmas!

This has to be one of my favourite times of year. In the space of three weeks my birthday, Jesus’ birthday too and a brand new year swing by in an extravaganza of merriment and celebration. What’s not to like! 

A couple of years ago I wrote this piece about how Christmas is celebrated around the World and in researching different festive nuances, it made me appreciate the season even more.

Forget the last minute gift buying hysteria, Christmas is about all about family, food and TV.  Sure, I like receiving nice presents as much as the next gal, but they’re not the be all, and this is without the nation’s collective brassicness.  I’d rather be surrounded by the people I love, belly laughing at their dry cynicism and nursing sides fit to burst post dinner, as I waddle to the sofa ready to indulge in some epic histrionics courtesy of the Eastenders Christmas Day implosion!  Yep, simple pleasures are often the best eh?

From the Mulled wine, to the pigs-in-blankets (my family use this as an excuse to also crack out the ackee ‘n’ saltfish and plantain #jamaicanchristmas), the endless Christmas specials, the Queen’s speech and the carols, to that delicious sprinkling of icing sugar that seems to magically appear overnight and adds instant Christmas.  To the goodwill, cold cheeks, in your face lights and lingering smell of pine, all this and more,  I flipping love Christmas!

Hope you all have a fantastic Christmas, filled with lots of joy, warmth and rest xx

Kanika

Better late than never?

Do you have a friend who is systematically, perpetually late for everything.  Late so consistently it's quite inexplicable? Well...

I, am that friend!

I've been late for pretty much every kind of social and life situation I've encountered in my short life.  Exams, assignments, work, dates, that time I missed my flight to Exit Festival for no particular reason, and almost had to fork out a cool £340 for a new return ticket to Hungary. Ouch!
With my non-refundable, non-transferable ticket in hand, I slopped around the terminal dragging my 50ltr rucksack stuffed with rave gear and looking for an alternative flight. After half hour of this pathetic catwalk, my kindly flight desk attendant took pity on my sad face, magically changed my void ticket into a valid one and only charged me an extra £35 for booking fee.  He let me on my merry way as I ran to catch the next flight, that I was nearly late for too!

I'm been late meeting friends when they've been running late and, had I left vaguely on time I should have arrived before them. You name it, I've been late for it, and it's ridiculous.

I don't like being late. I don't like bowling up to whatever thing I'm late for sweaty, breathless, souped up on adrenaline and hoping who or whatever I've kept waiting is a) still there, b) not too angry or c) still gonna pay me?!  But most of all it's extremely annoying and inconvenient for whoever I've kept waiting.

It's a bad, disgusting habit and it's not ok. No excuses! It's not because I'm black (BMT does not exist....if only).  It's not because I'm a woman.  I barely wear make up and usually end up throwing on whatever's clean and vaguely appropriate. So why in the name of sweet baby Jesus am I always late? Truth be told it's because I'm a disorganised fool.

I doesn't have to be like that. I can be super organised and a good judge of time when I put my mind to it, no really! But my Achilles Heal fells me time after time.  Yes, Procrastination you are my worst enemy and also my constant companion. Not urgent? Meh, it can get done in a minute or two. Stick it on my many to do lists and I'll get round to it eventually.

Did I also mention I'm easily distracted and have an insatiable penchant for daydreaming.  I'll be getting on with something and da dah da, I wonder why such and such is.....what's that? Oooh this thingy online looks interesting. Maybe I'll have a quick read, how long have I got? Hour and a half, plenty of time! Wooh girl, your split ends are awful, where are my scissors! And before I know it I'm left with 45mins to eat, shower, dress and arrive at final destination on time. Not a snowball's in the eternal fiery damnation of hell!

When You Gonna... Start Being More Assertive

As a woman who looks a) MUCH younger than I am and b) like perhaps a bit of a soft touch, I've grown accustomed to putting up with things I may not necessarily enjoy. For example, last week while out catching up with an old friend, I was happened upon by an old Jamaican man who took me by the hand and danced with me because I looked like a 'nice girl'.  Despite the fact that I didn't know him, he smelled like a rabbit hutch that rabbits had pooped in and his beard appeared to contain remnants of food, I indulged him and danced for what I considered a sufficient period of time before faking a toilet break.

Another time, I made the mistake of accidentally making eye contact with a man while boarding a train from London to Manchester. Naturally, he came and sat next to me so he could quiz me about my life, my 'Jamaicanness' and to demand that we be friends when we arrive in Manchester even though I told him I had a (made up) boyfriend. Eventually, around Salford, I managed to pretend to go to sleep and popped some headphones in for a bit of peace and quiet.

On a holiday in Barcelona, I saw someone playing the guitar on the street wearing a leopard print dress. Naturally when he looked at me, I smiled but went back to eating my meal. He came over to play for me. Despite my not having any money to give him/ignoring him and trying to talk with my friend, this happened:

This is a typical example of what I'm talking about.

But why didn't you say no or ask them to leave you alone? I hear you ask. Because friends, I, like many other women, have learned to fear The Switch. The Switch is what happens when an overfriendly stranger becomes a threatening maniac at the drop of a hat.

Catalysts for The Switch tend to be the rejection of:

• flyers
• attempts at courtship (like the grabbing of a hand or the public whistle/shout out)
• offers of friendship
• requests for money.

The Switch can and usually does happen when you least expect it. You've had a long day and don't have the energy to entertain craziness and then BAM! Crazy finds you. You're standing at a bus stop, get your phone out and just about catch a man smiling in your direction. When you don't smile back, he shouts at you, calls you 'evil' and tells everyone on the bus that you're 'slut who means nothing' (true story.) You're on the bus to your house when a boy wearing a hood in the summertime announces, from the back of the bus, that "You're not that hot anyway AND you sound posh" if you don't give him your phone number.

Now I know this may sound trivial, but it plagues me as I plod through life. Sometimes, I just want to read my book or stare out of the window, or not have to hold hands with a stranger. But the polite, people pleasing 80% of me just screws me over. The side of me that doesn't want any trouble, doesn't want to have to deal with confrontation or anything resembling an unpleasant situation.

I have pleasant memories of the one time I avoided The Switch entirely by anticipating an incoming Crazy and before he said anything I scowled at him and said "I am NOT in the mood." He stopped dead in his tracks and I marched on, victorious.

Maybe I just need to grow a pair and get over it, but it's hard y'know?

Excuses, excuses...


Ok. Starting tomorrow, I'm going to just say "No. Not today guys. I don't care if you don't think I'm a nice person anymore - I have enough people who I've tricked into thinking I'm nice around me to care about what you think. I don't even know you and your beard smells of rabbits. Leave me be sir, leave me be."

I'll let you know how that works out...



Karla

London's Natural Beauties: Exhibit C. Sian

This week's installment comes in the shape of a dancer, repique playing, hard working fun loving mother of two, Sian. A true natural beauty who shows that minimal work can actually lead to maximum effect!

NAME: Sian
AGE: Undisclosed
NATURAL FOR: 20 years / 9 years in Locs

When You Gonna: So Sian, why did you go natural and why locs?

Sian: Because I'm LAZY!! My sister is a hairdresser and so she used to do my hair, but when I had my daughters I needed a low maintenance style so locs it was!

WYG: So it wasn't political for you? You weren't trying to make a stand against the mainstream?

S: Nope. I just needed something easy. I just tie it up and go.

WYG: How often do you get it re-done?

S: I go to the hairdresser every 6 to 8 weeks and let them do their thing. They wash it, re-twist it and I'm good to go.

WYG: Sounds like a complete time saver. Ok, last question. Do you have any favourite products?

S: I really like Rosemary oil which I water down to use. It smells really nice. And my hairdressers at Adornment365 always recommend products to me which I use.

Sian's go-to moisturising Hair Freshener

WYG: Great! Thanks Sian.


**GET INVOLVED!**
If you would like to take part in this feature or know of any Natural Beauties you think we should show here GET IN TOUCH! Email us at: whenyougonnasortyourselfout@gmail.com 

Just shave it all off!

One of these days I'm gonna cut all my hair.

But it's not a cute, gamine pixie cut I have in mind, I'm talking about buzzing the bad girl completely off!

Why the hell not?! It'd look great. I reckon I'd look like a pre-pubescent schoolboy but I'm ok with this. I could literally role out of bed and go about my day without having to worry about my hair. Halle-bloody-lujah!

I've wanted to do this for years, but whenever I start to think about it seriously, something stops me turning my whim in to a reality. I come up with reasons why now isn't the right time like: I haven't quite reached my hair goals, it's simply not practical, I'm job hunting!  But, you know...if I ever go travelling or something, or have a baby, I'd totally just chop it off.  For real! I'd be way too busy finding myself or nurturing my offspring to worry about the inconveniences of hair.  Unfortunately, these two life experiences aren't yet specks on my horizon, so those lame excuses don't cut it right now.

Classic Kelis - Pink ombre hair and fuchsia brows! 

Kelis and her Rainbow Brite hair are one my hairspirations. She's a ballsy woman who has the confidence to regularly change up her look, do 'weird things' to it and not give a flying frig about what anyone else things.  Cut to me, a 27 year old women who's styling choices sit on a decidedly vanilla spectrum, and who's cujones are far smaller when it comes to hair experimentation.

I've never played with different cuts or colours, never done anything drastic to my hair, and shaving it all off is as drastic as you get! Not only that, I think women with no hair look stunning. Without anything to detract from their faces their individual features take centre stage.
As a women, chopping your hair off is like a big ol' 'f*** you!' when all around you you're told that in order to be attractive, you need to tick specific boxes. No matter how much I hate this notion and others of it's ilk, I'm subject to them.


I, like most women have an emotional attachment to my hair.  If it looks good, we feel good.  But if we think it looks shit, we contemplate not even leaving the house!  For black women this can be even more acute, because from birth we have it drummed into us that our hair needs to be fixed to be acceptable.