Remember when I decided I would only use two beauty products for my entire body? Well, it did not work out, you guys. My scalp itched, like, constantly, and my hair was limp and tired. It had no body at the crown, which I've been told is very (very) important. My skin was, to put it mildly, sub-ethereal. Oh, I was sad. While I am still fully freaked out by unregulated chemicals in the shit that I put on my face (!!!), I am simply too vain to stay the course. So, off to Sephora I went. (For the record, I fucking hate Sephora, but their particular brand of awfulness has been well-documented, so I'll stick to the story.)
Now, I was already aware of Carol's Daughter products, thanks to the lovely Mindy Kaling, but had never come across them in person. And while I normally defer to Mindy Kaling in all matters, Carol's Daughter is also endorsed by Jada Pinkett Smith, a women whose tastes I find questionable at best (Wicked Wisdom, anyone?). Sephora carries their hair and body products, and I was excited to check them out. One thing though: how exactly am I supposed to assess a hair product without actually using it? Do you know what I mean? I tried rubbing something on the back of my hand, but all it did was make me feel like a girl with hair stuff on the back of her hand. It also made me smell like Erykah Badu.
Not that smelling like Ms. Badu is a terrible thing, but I am a busy woman, and I don't need strangers stopping me to ask where the nearest slam poetry reading is every time I leave the house. And anyway, Black Hippie-ness is a slippery fucking slope. One moment you're just trying to find a paraben-free moisturizer and the next thing you know you're at Waid's Haitian Lounge talking to some dude in a Dead Prez t-shirt about Frantz Fanon, and you're totally okay with the word "punani." Or so I'm told. (BTW, just typing out "punani" almost made me yak.)
But I persevered, dudes. I waded through the whole product line until I found one that seemed geared toward my needs; a curl product that has lots of moisturizers and offers control, but does not shellac, and is free of scary baddie chemicals! Plus, it smells like lemongrass and roses, which doesn't evoke any goofy sub-cultures that I am aware of. It's called Hair Milk and I am into it. Apparently it won some Best of Sephora award, which is kind of impressive considering how many products they carry, but whatever. All I know is that I used it and now I look purty. Happy ending!!
Quick Programming Note: Sorry I haven't written in so long, but I got a day job this summer, so now I'm rich but I'm low on time. So it goes! I'll try to be here more, whatever that means.