The Things We Do For Beauty

We preen, pluck, and primp. We go on insane and obviously unhealthy diets. We shove our feet into pointy toed high heel shoes that can cause long term health effects, and pay a pretty penny for that pleasure. We get our wrinkles disguised from the inside out with fillers, or we have known poisons injected into our faces. The things we women do in the name of beauty are just insane. And still, there’s always something new out there to try, some new crazy thing you haven’t thought of doing before that promises to make you look prettier, younger, hotter, sexier. More beautiful.

I’ve made myself a guinea pig for beauty. I realize that more some times than others — trying out hot new hair products or makeup samples is nice work if you can get it. But these realizations all started swirling around my mind Friday before last, when I um — had my nostrils waxed. I know! WTH was I thinking? Let me just go ahead and answer the top four questions I’ve gotten from everyone who I’ve told about this so far.

1 — OMG, did it hurt?

Obviously! Hot wax + body hair + ripping = pain. But the pain of waxing my nose hairs paled in comparison to the first time I had my upper lip waxed. Or the first time I had a full bikini wax. Oh my Lord, I actually sobbed the first time I had that done. But the pain of bikini waxing truly does diminish over time. Nostril waxing feels crazy — imagine having someone push two hot-wax covered sticks up your nose. OK, then breathe through your mouth. Don’t freak out! One… two… yoink! Tears instantly flooded my eyes and poured down my face — it was a completely involuntary reaction. But the waxing itself didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would.

2 — Why on earth would I do such a thing?

I have no answers, bellas. Sometimes I perplex even myself. I went into the situation honestly not knowing what I was in for — Women’s Package #1 at this spa includes eyebrows, under arms, and upper lip waxing (all of which I have done, and was in need of doing again). I had the exterior of my nose waxed before and it was kind of amazing — you’d be stunned at how many teeny little hairs grow out of every pore of your face. But I never ever would have thought of waxing the inside. But Maria talked me into it, and in all honesty, I didn’t think about it for long. I was like, “sure, I’ll try it!” without even questioning my judgment, or having the chance to do the research that probably would have made me not volunteer for the service. According to Wikipedia, “given the function of nasal hairs, many physicians recommend trimming them lightly, if at all.” But I called my doctor right after I did the procedure, and she didn’t think it would cause any harm. Either way, here I am, nose-hair free.

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Out in the Streets, They Call It Murder

I had already left my home on Friday, by the time the Sean Bell verdict dropped. So I took the weekend to absorb the shock, and to try to understand how this verdict could possibly be handed down. I’m still at a loss.

My immediate emotional response to the news that the three accused officers were acquitted in the Sean Bell shooting case was outrage, anger, and that sickening feeling you get when justice has been perverted. My second response was jaded disgust. Surprise didn’t even occur to me — sadly, I would have been truly, happily surprised if the officers who fired 50 shots at an unarmed man were actually sentenced for their violent crime. But this sentence was just more of the same ol, same ol — same as Amadou Diallo, same as Ousmane Zongo, Johnny Gammage in Pittsburgh, and even Jean Charles de Meneze in London. When police officers gun down unarmed victims, it seems that the course of justice doesn’t run smooth and straight by any means.

Would a trial by jury have resulted in a different outcome for the Bell family? Perhaps — a jury of Sean Bell’s peers would probably be more than familiar with the NYPD’s reputation of racial profiling. But the defendants opted for a judge, rather than a jury. And lo and behold, that judge found reasons to question the witnesses’ accounts — “He said some prosecution witnesses contradicted themselves, and he cited prior convictions and incarcerations of witnesses,” that Concrete Loop article reveals. (note — the gif image at the top of this post also came from Concrete Loop).

They say that Detective Michael Oliver wept at the defense table. I wonder if those were guilty tears — after all, he did fire his weapon 31 times at the unarmed husband-to-be — or if they were simply tears of relief that he wasn’t going to be sent to jail for his actions.

Mayor Michael Bloomberg offered a statement afterwards — “”An innocent man lost his life, a bride lost her groom, two daughters lost their father, and a mother and a father lost their son. No verdict could ever end the grief that those who knew and loved Sean Bell suffer… America is a nation of laws, and though not everyone will agree with the verdicts and opinions issued by the courts, we accept their authority.”

My heart goes out to Nicole Paultre Bell and the rest of the Bell family. I can’t even imagine their pain, the emptiness they might feel inside. Rest in peace, Sean. 23 is too young to die under any circumstances, and these are especially heinous and tragic. I hope that somewhere down the line real justice is served, at the inevitable trials and civil suits to come. And there better be recompense somewhere – especially since someone working at the police union in Manhattan thought the verdict was FUNNY enough to make a PRANK PHONE CALL to Nicole Bell. (hat tip to Love is Dope for letting me know about THAT fresh outrage).

How do you bellas and fellas living in New York feel about this verdict, now that the weekend has passed? Do you still feel simmering anger in the pit of your stomach, or is it more like grim acceptance?

We Remember

Where were you six years ago?

What were you doing when time seemed to stand still?

I remember it as clear as day, even though at the time, it felt like a horrible dream. Tuesday morning, September 11 2001 — I was sleeping over at my then boyfriend’s (now husband’s) place, a college party house that was the scene for many crazy get-togethers and good times. He had been up since dark morning, studying for a big test. His roommate was a night owl, and he’d been up all night and had heard before anyone else in the house did. The two roommates watched the early reports together, tried to wrap their minds around the unfolding scene.

I remember someone softly touching my leg to wake me up — way too early. I grumbled, then looked at my boyfriend’s shocked, scared face. He had turned on the little TV in our room. Smoke billowed from a gaping hole in a building. The reporters were tripping over themselves, narrating the awful scene. We watched people jump from the damaged tower, bodies as small as ants tumbling that horrific distance down. What? I couldn’t even grasp what I was watching. We were sitting in bed together when the second plane hit. That’s when the phone started ringing.

The first call was from our friend Jenny. She’s from Washington DC, so she was terrified for her family. She didn’t want to go to class. We told her to come over right away. That happened all morning — friends kept calling us, looking for somewhere to go, trying to assemble a collection of loved ones at a time when their families seemed so frighteningly distant. I changed clothes — couldn’t tear myself away from the news long enough to take a shower. The phone kept ringing. Throughout the morning friends came over and crowded into the tiny, dirty bedroom. At one point, I counted fifteen heads — people sat on the bed, on the ground, on the one chair there was in the room. We all stared intently at the TV. The only sounds were the television, snatches of bewildered conversation, occasional gasps, quiet weeping. Every now and then someone left the room to try calling family and friends in Washington and New York. Nobody could get through. Nobody knew what city would be hit next. I prayed. At that point, I hadn’t really PRAYED in years, unless it was a brief “God guide me” before a college test. But faith came flooding back in the shadow of my fears.

“Miami has no targets. We’re cool,” our friend Lino assured. We tried to think of where a potential local target could be, and we couldn’t think of one. But everyone was still too scared to leave. I don’t remember how the day ended — at some point, people trickled out of the room, went home to tend to their usual affairs, called the school to figure out if classes were taking place. I don’t remember the afternoon, but the morning is seared into my memory forever.

CNN’s running a viewer poll today — do you feel safer six years later? From the brief glance I just got, it appears the majority has answered no. Looking back on the assurances given in the days that followed 9/11, and the fact that Bin Laden dropped a new video to remind the world that he’s still around, hiding but not yet captured, it seems to me that our priorities shifted somewhere along the way. What say you?

Where were you six years ago, when time seemed to stand still?

Ich Don’t Think So

I got a comment on my site recently that made me feel like I was in a glass case of emotions.

“I really enjoy your blog but lately it seems like it has turned into a product blog. It seems like every week some company sends you some product in exchange for you ooohing and awwwing over it and recommending that your readers try it. Don’t get me wrong, I love hair stuff but it just seems like the blog has lost some of that “organic” straight from the hip type thing. It seems that everything you review is your new “best thing ever/holy grail!” product. So much hair stuff is marketed to black women to “fix” our tresses, that sometimes it gets to be too much. Of course, I’m sure most people here will disagree with me but I wanted to put it out there.”

Here are the four stages I went through upon reading that comment.

1. Shock and anger — “I think the last thing Afrobella is, is just another product blog! I work hard to make this site different from all the other beauty sites. I don’t agree with her at all!”

2. Doubt and insecurity — “OMG, what if she’s right? I have done a lot of positive reviews recently, and I’ve tried to be less mean and make my criticism a lot more constructive in recent months. And I do get sent products for review more often than I did when I first started. Good Lord, have I sold out already? My site isn’t even a year old yet, how can that be? Doesn’t selling out mean that you’re making money?”

3. A sense of urgency – “Well, I better do a negative beauty product review right away to prove her wrong! Quick, to the drawer of abandoned products!”

4. Acceptance and dismissal — “Y’know, not everyone’s going to love me 100% of the time, so whatevs. My real life has been eating away my Afrobella time these days, so I’ll just get around to this when I get around to it.”

It’s been over a week now, and just like I’ve come to terms with the conclusion of the Sopranos (click here if you feel me), I am finally ready to deal with this comment like a grown up afrobella should.

You are somewhat correct, my fellow bella, and thanks for speaking your piece. When I started Afrobella back in August of last year, I was just an assistant at my job. I had a backlog of crappy hair products I was itching to vent about, and an idealistic vision of a blogazine that was personal but about beauty products, somehow. But since I started Afrobella, I got a promotion. Now my job keeps me insanely busy. My morning routine — wake up, stretch, dream up a topic to write before I go to work — has changed completely. Now I spend my weekend doing most of my Afrobella stuff, and I pretty much plan out a week’s worth of posts in advance. Because if I don’t, I’ll wind up not writing something every day because I barely have the time right now. So the “straight-from-the-hip” feeling may have vanished because of my schedule, and sadly, there’s nothing I can do about that right now.

Also, my stock has risen in the beauty product-producing community. Whereas before I couldn’t convince someone to mail me a free sample of anything, somewhere along the line, companies started getting my address and sending me stuff. As a product junkie, of course I love that! My response has been to rave about the stuff I really really love, while also mentioning that not all of the products worked well for me. (a perfect example is my recent Elasta QP giveaway. Love the Mango Butter and the DPR-11, but if I let that Intense Conditioner touch my tresses, I come out of the shower looking like Buckwheat). Or I’ll do a very constructive negative review, as I did for Carol’s Daughter Khoret Amen, which made my hair smell funky like an old batch of collard greens. But I need to find a happy balance.

I think part of Afrobella’s unique charm is that I try to write the kinds of very honest product reviews that you don’t usually see in magazines or on other beauty blogs. But somewhere along my path, I’ve struggled to balance music and culture with beauty stuff, which is the genesis and the central focus of this site. I apologize for that. It’s time to stop being polite, and start getting real. I haven’t done a Never Again post in a long time, so I’ll rectify that now. Here are some hair moisturizing products I’ve avoided reviewing because of the high TBS factor.

Ellin LaVar Textures NourishOil Intense Dry Oil Care for Hair and Scalp. I was so psyched when the Ellin Lavar display first hit store shelves at my local CVS. An entire line of high end drugstore products for naturally curly, wavy, or kinky hair? Sign me up! The ingredients even looked alright — Brazil Nut Oil, Pequi Oil, Capuacu Seed Butter, and Maracuja Passion Fruit stand among the exotic additions. The recommended use of this product also attracted me — it’s advised to use it as a nighttime leave-in. From the Ellin LaVar website, “Simply apply to any problem areas of your hair or scalp and cover in plastic wrap while you rest. When you wake, apply OptiMoist before you wet your hair, rinse and follow up with ReconstructMasque and SatinSoft. Your hair has never been softer or shinier!” Upon multiple attempts with this stuff, all it’s made softer and shinier is my pillowcase. Yes, I put on plastic wrap over my head as I slept (and of course the husband just loves that), but inevitably, sleepy tossing and turning + plastic cap + big naturally curly hair = sometime in the night, my plastic cap will slip off. And then I’m left with a pillowcase that looks like a reject from the Soul Glo commercial. Or like Billy Ocean slept over.

Saturated bed linens aside, I had other issues with this product. First of all, the way this bottle is designed leaves A LOT to be desired. I guess the intention was to give the consumer options — there’s actually a caution on the back of the bottle, “product dispenses quickly.” You can either remove the cap completely, which reveals a weird pointy tip with three available holes for this stuff to pour through. Or you can poke a hole in the cap. After spilling oil all down my neck, I opted to poke a hole in the cap. Besides all of THAT, it didn’t do what it promised. The oil just sat on the surface of my hair, but didn’t penetrate the hair itself, so my tresses were shiny, stringy, and overslick but not truly moisturized. I’m thinking this probably works great for straightened hairstyles, moreso than natural curls. At $7.99 it won’t break the bank, but I was disappointed and won’t repurchase.

Maryam’s Soap Nook Japanese Camelia Botanical Hair Oil. I notice on the website this is being called “body and bath oil,” but my bottle is labeled “hair oil.” I haven’t tried it for body oil yet, and here’s why. I just can’t get with the smell. It’s funky and a bit musty and sweet, like an old lady’s bedroom. It just lingers on my hair after I use it, and I actually had to wash it out of my hair the last time I gave this a try. It’s not like, the funk of 40,000 years, but scent is very important to me when it comes to hair products — I don’t need an unpleasant cloud following me around all day. I’ve loved many of Maryam’s other products — her soaps, body washes, and whipped shea butter are amazing. But for this stuff as hair oil, I gotta say the nay-no.

On the opposite end of the hair oil spectrum, there’s Oscar Blandi olio de jasmine. The smell is heaven sent. It’s just incredible. I love jasmine ANYTHING, so I was really expecting this to be the most incredible hair oil ever. (did I mention that it costs $35 for a teeny 1.69 oz bottle?) I came to this product with high expectations, and I was left with a lasting disappointment. This stuff is clearly meant for bellas with straightened hair, or naturally straight hair. It felt gloppy, and did nothing for my hair beyond making it smell amazing. It actually made my hair feel coarser, if that’s even possible. Didn’t like it, can’t recommend it. But if you’ve got chemically treated locks that are straight and need some glamorous shine, this could work wonders for you.

Want a bonus review? Here’s a quickie. Harlem is filled with street entrepreneurs, each hawking a remarkably similar display of products. Incense, shea butter, and a variety of natural soaps are readily available along 125th St. When I was there in March, I absolutely had to stock up on these soaps. I got the Nubian Heritage Coconut & Papaya soap with Vanilla Beans. I opened it right there on the street, and it smelled amazing! I noticed the soap was studded with what looked like natural coconut extracts, but that didn’t bother me. I enjoy a mildly exfoliating soap, and the price was right. But let me warn you — that coconut soap probably shouldn’t be used as an all-over body soap. I have never seen such big chunks of stuff in a beauty product before. I’m talking big pointy pieces of coconut bark that just scratched me, instead of gently exfoliating my skin. So if you’d rather avoid splinters in your most tender areas, avoid this soap like the plague, or use as a hand soap only. The Ivorian Cocoa Butter soap with Milk Chocolate and Hazelnuts also smells amazing, and will be less likely to hurt you in the shower.

Have you tried a product that just left you cold, bellas? Tell me all about it! And if you want to offer criticism, or give me advice on keeping it real, e mail me at bella@afrobella.com.

Lord Give Me A Sign ** edited April 17

Today I got an incoming link from a new website, which I will decline to name at this time. So as I always do, I clicked the new link to check out what this new site was all about. And it’s everything that I’ve written. Word for word, photo for photo, video for video. It’s my site, with a different title and template. No contact info, so I can’t e mail this person who seems to be blatantly stealing and reposting my work on a daily basis. I don’t know what this is, but I want it to stop.

Friends in the blogosphere, fellow bloggers — has anything like this happened to you? Should I be as pissed off about this as I am right now? How can I make this desist immediately? Please, holla at your girl and tell me how to handle this situation.

** I was contacted by the umbrella Website’s creative director, who explained that they were trying to develop a new website and were reposting RSS feeds that they liked in the interim. Apparently they meant to e mail and let me know, but never got around to it before I freaked out. I’m going to be posting an Afrobella FAQ soon, to clarify my feelings about being reprinted elsewhere. I just want to take this opportunity to thank all of you for your love, support, and advice! I wouldn’t have even known how to contact these people without your suggestions.

What Condition My Conditioner’s In

* Just so you all know, this post was ready to go up this morning. But when I woke up, I had no cable, no internet, and because we have Vonage, no phone. Now that my situation is rectified, back to your regularly scheduled afrobella post.

You’ll hear many an afrobella talk about abandoning shampoo, or adopting the “no poo” method. But you’ll never hear a woman with natural curls say “I’m going to give up using conditioner.” Unless said woman has lost her damn mind.

Conditioner is a vital supply for women with curly locks, and for most afrobellas it’s a daily necessity. I go through conditioner the way Shaquille O’Neal might go through a gallon of milk. My hair absolutely guzzles the stuff. Because of the sheer amount of conditioner that my hair demands, I’ve become rather picky about what I’m buying.

Many afrobellas over at Nappturality.com swear by Suave’s super-affordable line o’ condishes, but the last one I bought, green apple, made my hair feel clumpy and frizzy. I won’t be making that mistake twice!

And just so you know, price has nothing to do with it. Damage Remedy by Aveda is a big Ave-don’t for my hair. I’ve never been so disappointed by a beauty product. Honestly, I can’t but into the hype on Aveda.

Yes they do great things for the environment, their stores are eco-friendly and attractive, they serve you fabulous tea while you wait, and because of the company’s philosophy on saving the world, I’m pre-disposed to love them. But their hair products don’t work for me. Also, I’ve had two of my most expensively disappointing hairstyling incidents at Aveda salons.

One’s a famous SoBe establishment, and I walked out of there with my head looking like Buckwheat didn’t sleep right, with a brown paper bag containing $100 in products that I really didn’t mean to buy.

The stylist insisted that I had to mix (the apparently now discontinued) Elixir and Confixor together to style my do. Um, WRONG. Gel doesn’t work for me as a general rule. And Elixir was not the best leave-in conditioner on the market. Not by a long shot. I’m glad to see it gone. Having said that, I would gladly try the new Be Curly Conditioner, but once bitten, twice shy. If any of you have tried it, please let me know your results.

The second time I visited a different Aveda salon, off the beaten path and near my neck of the woods. I had a hairdresser who was one of those Jamaicans who hate reggae music. What is with that? “Bob Marley is alright, but not me and that Buju Banton rah-rah nonsense,” she said with a screw-face. I should have known right then that there’d be a problem.

I begged her to keep the cost to under $200. She assured me that the bill would be fine. I got lowlights and a deep conditioning treatment, then the mofo at the cash register rang me up at $250 and change. Needless to say, my hairdresser was hiding in the back room when it came time to pay. My hair didn’t even look that special, and I vowed never to return. So cosmetics aside (still loving the eyeliner), I think I’m through with purchasing Aveda products.

One of my new favorite conditioners is Matrix Biolage Hydratherapie Conditioning Balm.

I like the Matrix Biolage line so far — I’ve tried two of their conditioners and I give them two thumbs up without reservation. I just ran out of conditioning balm and I need to get to the store today to restock! I think I might go for this AWESOME colorful train bag that comes with the purchase of any three products!
Tres chic, and I’d get the Curl Defining Creme and the Ultra-Hydrating Shampoo.

The Conditioning Balm slicks on effortlessly, softens my naps to the point where I can actually pass a wide tooth comb through my knotty ends, and makes detangling easy. It’s $15.99, but salon quality and a pretty good purchase.

A while ago, I was lucky enough be sent some little samples of Mixed Chicks leave-in conditioner. I really love the concept of these products, but it didn’t work on me. I put on about half of the cute little container that I received, and my hair just sat there like “ok, so when are you putting on the product?” Heartbreaking, because I wanted to fall in love.

The slogan on the sample says, “are you tired of defining your race and not your curls?” My answer is yes, but sadly this isn’t for me.

I gave samples to my friends Shanique and Jessica, both of whom are stunning cafe au lait Jamaican bellas with diverse heritages.

Jessica is actually more of a prototypical mixed chick, she’s got light skin, green eyes, and a long mop of loose curls. But despite her 3B/3C appearance, she assures me that her hair actually feels coarser than mine. Still, she LOVED Mixed Chicks. She took it home to Jamaica with her (the small sample size made it ideal for traveling), and she raved about the smell, she said it made her hair look shiny and feel soft, and in the photos she showed me her curls were defined and gorgeous.

But instead of relying on our divergent experiences, fellow afrobellas, you can find out for yourself! I present to you, the first Afrobella giveaway!

I have three mini-samples of Mixed Chicks Leave-In Conditioner, and if you live in the continental USA I will gladly send one of them your way.

Leave a comment and let me know what products you’ve been using, and why you want to try Mixed Chicks. By Tuesday March 20, I will put the comment numbers in a hat and decide. Then I’ll contact you personally for your mailing address information. These are teeny samples, so I don’t think postage will be a problem. When I start doing big giveaways like Andrea the Organic Beauty Expert, I might need some shipping assistance. But for this first little one, it’s on me!

What’s your favorite daily conditioner? I’m always looking for a new one to try!

Motionless

If you’re a black woman in the Americas, you’re probably familiar with the Motions line of haircare products. (Holla at me if y’all know about Motions in the UK, British bellas!) There’s been a jar of CPR treatment conditioner in the shower at the homestead in Trinidad for as far back as I can remember (you know, right next to the Queen Helene Cholesterol).

CPR is a good conditioning product for natural and relaxed bellas, and I’ve repurchased many times and oft. But after a while, I yearned for a different deep conditioner and I strayed from the familiar yellow and purple jar. Until recently, when I came across a new product from the good people at Motions.

Motions At Home Salon Care Weightless Detangling Conditioner comes in a curvy new bottle, and promises to help repair and strengthen hair, in addition to conditioning, detangling, and softening tangled tresses. The product is made for fine to medium hair and mine is more on the coarse side, but I bought it because it was made by a company I knew well and respected, and I figured I could use this product as a good, daily conditioner wash as part of my “low poo” routine. Boy was I wrong.

First of all, “weightless” is an understatement. I expect a certain thickness of my shampoo and conditioner, and this stuff just squirted out like week-old milk. And it smelled like Lemon Pledge. I gamely gave it several tries and I’m sad to say, other brands have given me a more impressive, detangling comb-through.

This stuff left me so disappointed that I’m not rushing to buy another Motions product any time soon. ** edited at 8:25 p.m. - I guess I shouldn’t be particularly surprised, seeing that Motions lists “having too curly hair” among their Common Problems That May Occur With Your Hair. What’s the solution? Motions Texturizer, of course!
I’ll stick to Suave, thank you very much. Any suggestions for a good, daily conditioner bellas?

A Belated Happy New Year, and My Fake Eyelash Hell

So sorry for the mysterious silence, bellas. 2007 hit me like a Mack truck.

Coming back from a blissful vacation to a new job with bigger responsibilities, an immediately pressing deadline, no food in the house, and a husband out sick with the flu has been a tad overwhelming. Unexpectedly, one of my most major sources of stress was totally Afrobella related. I got fake lashes put on for New Year’s, and I absolutely hated the experience.

I got individual false eyelashes applied on New Year’s Day, shortly before our family festivities began. Other than the strong scent of the glue so close to my eyes and nose, the process wasn’t bad at all. Mama Bella and I chatted with Julie the whole time, and it was done in a flash.

When I was done, I was thoroughly impressed. My lashes were thicker and longer and more fabulous than ever before. I felt gorgeous, and received beaucoup compliments from people who normally don’t notice what kind of makeup I’m wearing. Then, the trouble began.

I first noticed that I might experience some eyelash turbulence during the party itself. I became suddenly verklempt after kissing my niece goodbye - I knew she wouldn’t be awake ‘foreday morning to wave and say bye when we left for the airport. Then I went to say adios to my dog, Souris. The poor guy is on his last legs (literally - he has chronic arthritis and splits half a pill with my mom every day. It’s so sad to watch. He’s like 98 years old in dog years).

I guess it was the drinking + homesickness made me bawl like a baby, right there crouched next to my poor, old dog. When I tried to dry my tears, I encountered spiky, painful plastic protrusions coming from my eyelids. They HURT.

From that moment on, I became hyper-aware of the fact that I had glued on plastic spikes to my eyelids. No - correction - I had paid for the pleasure of having plastic spikes glued to my eyelids. I had no idea how sensitive my eyes were until this point.

Julie had warned me to sleep carefully on my back - she could tell by the way some of my outer lashes curved that I slept in the fetal position. After copious glasses of champagne followed by strong rum and cokes (and rum and Peardrax. Try it! Such an inspired combination), I slept any which way I could.

When I awoke to head to the airport, the lashes were fine. When I awoke after sleeping on the plane, they were fine but a bit “kilkitay,” as they might say at home. By the time I got back to our place, my lids ached. I wanted these lashes OFF and I was going to make it happen by hook or by crook!

I spent two days cleaning my eyelids with makeup remover. Kiehl’s, Philosophy, Rimmel… none of them worked. I did a Google search for removing fake lashes, and all of the information I read recommended soaking my eyelashes with makeup remover, then removing the lashes. It was not that easy, bellas.

At one point, one of the most painful of the lashes became disengaged, only to become stuck in the spiderweb upside down. I looked like I had a large mosquito trapped in my eyelashes. It was terrible. My eyes were red, my lids were swollen, and they hurt. Every time I blinked I felt these spiky bastards on my aching eyelids. I cursed myself for being so vain. For going against my credo of all-natural beauty. Why oh why did I not think my own lashes were good enough, and leave well enough alone?

It took two days of repeated cleansing, delicate picking at the hard, black clumps of glue, and I don’t want to speculate how many real lashes got lost along the way… but finally I’m happy to say that all of my fake lashes are removed. I will never torture them like that again.

In retrospect, I wonder if I had bought softer fake lashes - these Shu Uemura ones look divine - or if Julie had used a different sort of glue, I would have had a better experience. Either way, I’m glad they’re finally off. I don’t know how Mama Bella does it!

Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad I had the experience and I don’t regret a thing. Fake lashes made me appreciate my real lashes that much more. Now I just want to pamper my eyelashes to the max. I slathered them with Vaseline and told them I love them. Now I want to buy some kind of brush-on eyelash conditioner, to really take better care of them. If any of you have tried such a product, let me know.

I hope you all had a wonderful New Year’s, and that 2007 brings happiness and blessings to us all! I’ll be making up for lost time and posting all weekend long. I missed you guys!

No Dance Is Worth Dying For

OK, I’m not sure of how many of my American readers are yet aware of this, but I read this and had to discuss. There’s a popular Jamaican dance called the Dutty Wine.

I know, I know. Sounds classy, right?

It involves rapidly gyrating your butt, hips, and neck simultaneously. Long hair or a weave is instrumental to the look. Just watch for yourself, but fair warning - none of these links are safe for work, really. I mean, there’s no nudity, but if your computer could catch a virus from skank, this would be the root cause.

I think Beyonce throws in a little dutty wine in the video for Ring The Alarm (the weave-flinging part, anyway), and you can see a TV-ready version in Sean Paul and Keyshia Cole’s Give It Up To Me (in my opinion, this dude does the dance better than all of them).

But women are stepping up their game in the dancehall and taking the dance to extreme and dangerous levels. According to the Jamaica Gleaner, it is believed that an 18 year old girl just died from doing the Dutty Wine.

She reported feeling dizzy and was rushed to the hospital, where she was pronounced dead.

I am fascinated by the Jamaican dancehall scene and I think it’s cool that the culture still has named dances. The tradition dates back to the roots of reggae. The cool and deadly, horseman scabby, the water pump, bogle, and butterfly were popular in the Seventies, Eighties, and Nineties. More recently, there has been the Sesame Street, Wacky Dip, Willy Bounce, and Hot Wuk. All of these dances are fascinating to watch and probably pretty fun to do; I just think women need to think about how we’re represented and how we represent ourselves.

And children should NOT be encouraged in this kind of slackness. Those links are DEFINITELY not safe for work, and not cool in general.

I’m from Trinidad, and our Carnival is legendary. Women get down on the floor to wine and have a good time, and ain’t nothing wrong with that. But I have always hated when children are encouraged to follow suit. Many people defend it as a cultural thing. I’d love to hear your opinions on this.

This is a topic I’m going to return to next week - positive female images in Caribbean music and hip hop. For now, I just have to say that while I’m utterly amazed by these dancers, there’s something unmistakably flawed with the culture when we’re busting out video cameras to capture (and coax) our children gyrating on the floor, or participating in a whore-off so fervent that it becomes fatal.

Khoret Amen is not for me

I was sent some Carol’s Daughter products by a very nice PR lady about a month ago, and I have taken my sweet time trying them and reviewing them. Finally, I’m ready to come clean with my true feelings about the products I tried.

Bellas, I love what Lisa Price has created. More power to her, for creating a quality line of products for natural beauties. I adore the Hair Milk - Lisa was right when she advised me to spring for the $16 bottle as versus the $10 bottle. I use Hair Milk almost daily, and if I’m not using that, I’m using Lisa’s Hair Elixir which I also love.

I’m alllll about the Almond Cookie, and now, finally I understand why Lisa urged me to get the Black Vanilla Leave In Conditioner; the smell of that product is heavenly. Especially when I compare it to the Khoret Amen. Let me backtrack a bit.

At the Mary J. Blige event I spent a great deal of time in the Carol’s Daughter aisle, smelling stuff and rubbing lotions on my hands. Jamaican Punch was too sweet and Kool-Aidy, I wasn’t feeling the Ocean. But the Khoret Amen appealed to me. I believe I said it smelled “like I died and went to ylang-ylang heaven” at the time.

Initially it smelled strong and unique, “sensual and woodsy” like the container said. I thought I could get down with Khoret Amen. I was wrong.

Sense of smell is such a subjective thing. What one person thinks is delicious-smelling, another person might find stank. Body chemistry definitely plays a role in our olfactory interpretations. For example, mi amiga Motown Girl describes the Hair Milk as “very stinky,” but I love it because it reminds me of Indian delicacies. Another case in point, the review at the bottom of this Amazon listing for the Khoret Amen Hair Oil. That lady loves the scent. For me, Khoret Amen had an attractive scent in the bottle. Then I put it on my hair and that was an entirely different story.

Sephora lists the ingredients for Khoret Amen as including lavender flowers, sage, ylang-ylang, clary sage, and bay leaf. The Carol’s Daughter site adds blue malva, cedarwood, and patchouli. On me, it smelled a lot like Vetiver, the grass root that my mother keeps little ribbon-tied bundles of in her closet instead of moth balls.

Vetiver is used as a base note in many popular scents, so some of you are probably familiar with it and enjoy the smell. (Also, vetiver is often used in witchcraft. Which reminds me, happy halloween, everyone!) To me, it takes me back to being six and playing with my dolls in my mother’s closet. I’ve never cared for the scent.

On my hair, woodsy = funky = bad. And it failed the husband smell test; he was like “Ick! What did you wash your hair with?” Not a good sign. So I have to say the nay-no to Khoret Amen not for the quality of the product - the Hair Smoothie isn’t for traditional in-the-shower conditioner use. It worked great when used with my steam cap, and made my curls coily and happy. The leave-in worked well enough. But I won’t be buying Khoret Amen again. It doesn’t mesh well with my chemistry.

Hey Carol’s Daughter, why not make an Almond Cookie hair smoothie, oil, and leave-in? That would be delicious!