I thought getting a weave would be an easy task. I just knew that it would be the perfect protective style for my transitioning hair. I had no idea that the process that was seemingly simple in my head would become such an ordeal. First off, not only did I have to know the country of origin I wanted the hair to come from, but I had to know the texture, length and weight of the hair. What? Ain’t nobody got time for that! Don’t get me wrong, I knew that hair was a big business and I’ve watched numerous “weave” videos on YouTube, but I had no idea what I was getting myself into.
My search started out online. I combed through numerous sites looking at hair and prices. What I found was ridiculous! The cost of some of this hair was equivalent to bills I pay in real life: my car payment, student loan, light bill, cable bill and heck, even rent. Sure, I’ve heard about the cost of hair, but I had never seen the numbers myself. The price was enough to deter me right there, but my curiosity led me to the hair store.
I figured maybe a face to face approach would be better for me. I wanted to feel and actually see the hair I was to purchase. As soon as I entered the weave section, it was like the mannequins knew I was fresh meat. They just kept staring at me. It was really creepy. After looking clueless for a few moments, a petite young lady walked up to me and asked if I needed help. “I think I want a weave” was my reply. She chuckled and proceeded to ask me several questions. All of which I had no answer for.
Our conversation led to numerous bundles of hair being spread across a counter. I found myself holding hair up to my face, pretending to have pony tails and I think I even smelled a couple of bundles. After what felt like an eternity, I finally made a purchase; some Motions shampoo and a curling wand, no weave for me. Although I left the store more confused than when I entered, I learned a valuable lesson, mannequins look weird and weaveology is a science!