8 August 2007: Emancipation Proclamation Day!
Flip. I make it past the cover and hope that the hallo-effect hovering over this issue’s ethereal cover girl is not representative of what one would find inside. Flip. Cars- at least there is no inexplicably near-naked girl on the hood, so far we’re safe. Flip. The Bling begins. One of Hollywood’s newest, bright stars seduces viewers into luxury brand bliss. I remember that girl from way back when. She was fine as hell and cheerful, too, all of which went well with the bounce and natural body of her hair, which stood like a crown. Now her relaxed tresses reflect a more refined woman, a luxury brand prima donna. This page faces a first near (butt) naked Safronia- the exotic mulatto-looking frail and wanton child in a swimsuit on a beach against several large, rough black boulders; looks like lake Michigan. Her wet hair swings and flows (that’s why she she’s in a swimsuit!), her innocence is as seductive as that damn diamond laden bezel.
Flip. This chick that looks like Beyoncé, which makes me do a double take. They got me! I looked, again, and definitely took notice of the brand that this caramel-eyed damsel promotes. I have seen this chick before and have that same reaction … I fall for the same trick every time. Flip. Now they have a boney dark skin chick that looks like Kelly, and I am wondering if that was Beyoncé on the previous page? Perhaps the pop group has reunited to endorse cosmetics, too? ‘Flawless’ reads that banner covering one diva, ‘endless’ sashaying across the final chick- another mulatto type with that Jane of the jungle hair that seems to resist resting against her (naked) back. There apparently are not that many ‘ways to style’ contrary to the ad’s final declaration.
The more I flip, the more I flip out. The everyday heroines highlighted throughout the magazine impress me; it is just as I remember, neatly fanned between the latest issues of Jet and Ebony on my great Aunt’s coffee table. We see all shades, shapes and textures of Black women, including sections devoted to Black men ‘speaking out’ about why they love Black women, no doubt a ploy to boost confidence against a cultural landscape filled with butt-naked music videos hoes at a ratio of 10:1 vis-à-vis a clothed rapper- the apparent marker of Hip-Hop success. Indeed, we live in a rich, white male dominated nation and despite the Abraham Lincoln’s infamously ignored 1862 proclamation, which essentially did not liberate most Black people from slavery until the 13th Amendment in 1865, Black women’s bodies in particular are still a commodity.
She is ‘shapely’ blessed with ‘so much flavor’, known to ‘willingly embrace challenges and always succeed’. Fetch, girl, sweep up one of these men! ‘There is absolutely nothing sexier than a women who has curves in all the right places’, one brother boasted, and ‘There’s nothing more attractive that a Black woman in heels’ gloated another.
These brothers essentially describe a patriarchal fantasy cloaked in modern day sensibilities. Yet she is still like the martyr Sita in Hindu mythology- the brave and sacrificial one. Flip. Even Queen Latifah, Hip-Hop’s first fiery feminist (Ladies First!) and early House Music aficionada, is blond. Long gone are her African head wraps and red, black and green. The gold dust and articulate lighting seem to give Latifah that ethereal glow- she’s a cover girl. I suppose this is the reproduction of stardom.
Flip. ‘Amazing length’. There are fairness creams, soaps with before and after pictures, and full-page close-ups of barely tanned models with angular noses, bleach-white smiles, and thin, licentiously gapping tented lips. The darkest girl seems to have the longest, silkiest, bone straight hair, laid like a dead fur tightly across her forehead.
Proudly, the first ad in one issue is a Black-owned manufacturer selling products for natural hair. Another ad, a 3-page exposé on hair care, peddled products catering to natural, permed and ‘loose curls’ (permed!) hair. Apparently Black hair is very problematic: ‘Dry’ or ‘Itchy’. Fortunately the proceeding leaves offer tons of solutions: Dyes (actually, bleaches) and hair relaxers. The cosmetics company ‘Dark and Lovely’ are celebrating 35th Years (of helping Black people relax?). I suppose that ‘African Pride’ will celebrate such an anniversary soon. The ‘glossing and polishing’ product adjacent to a full-page spread Hollywood’s new happening fat girl promises to control ‘fly-away hair!’ This must, then, truly be ‘nature’s secret to healthy hair!’
‘Breakthroughs in Motherhood’ one ad ominously claimed, against a backdrop of bright, healthy sunshine showering over two light-skinned pre-teen girls smiling at each as if admiring each other’s wavy long hair. After 1950’s disposable diaper, and 1995’s spill-proof cup, this 2007 award winner for ‘worry-free hair manageability’ is ’now available in the Ethnic Hair Care Section’ of my local retailer. To further penetrate the point, before/after sketches of individual hairs claim that ‘tightly curled hair tangles, causing breakage when combed’. Nappy hair cannot be combed, so you’re doing your child a favor when applying this to her delicate hair- as delicate as the sunflower bouquet in the darker girl’s arms.
The message here is that Black is naturally unmanageable, full of worry and darkness. Come into the sun and ‘take the worry out of manageability’. I suspect this slogan passed scores of marketing executives and test groups. These girls look neat and happy- a real breakthrough for the modern mother.
All my favorite Divas have that Soul Glow shine of one shade or another- preferably blond! And if there is one thing that should not be allowed to go down is bleached blond hair one Black person. The ritual is no worse than my fraternity brothers branding one of our ‘sorors’, not our constitutionally bound sisters, but another of the National Pan-Hellenic Council sorority that happened to use the same single Greek letter for shorthand. Indeed, with a common household hanger bent (clumsily so, and while intoxicated, I might add, in order to numb her- or him?) into shape and heated over a stove- Black chicks have the scourge of burning from lye, or worse the hot comb! Many parents wish to thwart the eventual perm for their daughter, a rite of passage which most Black girls face at some point in elementary school. The wise stall the practice, knowing its clear indication of sexual maturity: She is, after all, a woman. Her permed hair signals her availability. Good girls wear hot pressed pig tails till at least the fifth grade. Likely every single one of those branded sorors had suffered that ritualistic fate, only to engage another in college, and likely throughout their lives. They are pressed- hard-pressed hair!
Hidden amongst the plethora of hair charms are ‘deep penetrating’ cleansers, serums and creams to combat a range of ‘discoloration’ problems, though non-addressed self-esteem. Despite marketing tricks to link their products with ‘nature’ and health, straightening is unnatural and unhealthy, and this is fact. Self-esteem suffers, AND that shit just burns!
They should not have to be rich women who compromise everything.
Flip. Bone straight. More than dry skin, cancer, healthy eating habits, ‘relationship drama’, debt and the myriad of other lifestyle issues addressed in this issue, ‘hair’ is clearly their target audiences greatest contention. Including the total hair messes surrounding the horoscopes, Black hair problem solvers dawn over 15 glossies of X pages, two specifically for girls.
The one really chocolate sister in the magazine covers a full-page ad. Naturally her hair is straight, but admittedly she looks like a clown. In order to accentuate her hipness, this dark diva’s eyes are shadowed with turquoise, magenta, and burnt orange , allowing consumers to ‘show off the color that shows up on you’. ‘Aren’t you worth it?’ they tag their ad, as if to declare that indeed, as opposed to the dark lady whose feet we seen on the adjacent page, under a tattered pagne above the headline ‘out of Africa’. Aren’t you glad you made it out?
Flip. I make it past the cover and hope that the hallo-effect hovering over this issue’s ethereal cover girl is not representative of what one would find inside. Flip. Cars- at least there is no inexplicably near-naked girl on the hood, so far we’re safe. Flip. The Bling begins. One of Hollywood’s newest, bright stars seduces viewers into luxury brand bliss. I remember that girl from way back when. She was fine as hell and cheerful, too, all of which went well with the bounce and natural body of her hair, which stood like a crown. Now her relaxed tresses reflect a more refined woman, a luxury brand prima donna. This page faces a first near (butt) naked Safronia- the exotic mulatto-looking frail and wanton child in a swimsuit on a beach against several large, rough black boulders; looks like lake Michigan. Her wet hair swings and flows (that’s why she she’s in a swimsuit!), her innocence is as seductive as that damn diamond laden bezel.
Flip. This chick that looks like Beyoncé, which makes me do a double take. They got me! I looked, again, and definitely took notice of the brand that this caramel-eyed damsel promotes. I have seen this chick before and have that same reaction … I fall for the same trick every time. Flip. Now they have a boney dark skin chick that looks like Kelly, and I am wondering if that was Beyoncé on the previous page? Perhaps the pop group has reunited to endorse cosmetics, too? ‘Flawless’ reads that banner covering one diva, ‘endless’ sashaying across the final chick- another mulatto type with that Jane of the jungle hair that seems to resist resting against her (naked) back. There apparently are not that many ‘ways to style’ contrary to the ad’s final declaration.
The more I flip, the more I flip out. The everyday heroines highlighted throughout the magazine impress me; it is just as I remember, neatly fanned between the latest issues of Jet and Ebony on my great Aunt’s coffee table. We see all shades, shapes and textures of Black women, including sections devoted to Black men ‘speaking out’ about why they love Black women, no doubt a ploy to boost confidence against a cultural landscape filled with butt-naked music videos hoes at a ratio of 10:1 vis-à-vis a clothed rapper- the apparent marker of Hip-Hop success. Indeed, we live in a rich, white male dominated nation and despite the Abraham Lincoln’s infamously ignored 1862 proclamation, which essentially did not liberate most Black people from slavery until the 13th Amendment in 1865, Black women’s bodies in particular are still a commodity.
She is ‘shapely’ blessed with ‘so much flavor’, known to ‘willingly embrace challenges and always succeed’. Fetch, girl, sweep up one of these men! ‘There is absolutely nothing sexier than a women who has curves in all the right places’, one brother boasted, and ‘There’s nothing more attractive that a Black woman in heels’ gloated another.
These brothers essentially describe a patriarchal fantasy cloaked in modern day sensibilities. Yet she is still like the martyr Sita in Hindu mythology- the brave and sacrificial one. Flip. Even Queen Latifah, Hip-Hop’s first fiery feminist (Ladies First!) and early House Music aficionada, is blond. Long gone are her African head wraps and red, black and green. The gold dust and articulate lighting seem to give Latifah that ethereal glow- she’s a cover girl. I suppose this is the reproduction of stardom.
Flip. ‘Amazing length’. There are fairness creams, soaps with before and after pictures, and full-page close-ups of barely tanned models with angular noses, bleach-white smiles, and thin, licentiously gapping tented lips. The darkest girl seems to have the longest, silkiest, bone straight hair, laid like a dead fur tightly across her forehead.
Proudly, the first ad in one issue is a Black-owned manufacturer selling products for natural hair. Another ad, a 3-page exposé on hair care, peddled products catering to natural, permed and ‘loose curls’ (permed!) hair. Apparently Black hair is very problematic: ‘Dry’ or ‘Itchy’. Fortunately the proceeding leaves offer tons of solutions: Dyes (actually, bleaches) and hair relaxers. The cosmetics company ‘Dark and Lovely’ are celebrating 35th Years (of helping Black people relax?). I suppose that ‘African Pride’ will celebrate such an anniversary soon. The ‘glossing and polishing’ product adjacent to a full-page spread Hollywood’s new happening fat girl promises to control ‘fly-away hair!’ This must, then, truly be ‘nature’s secret to healthy hair!’
‘Breakthroughs in Motherhood’ one ad ominously claimed, against a backdrop of bright, healthy sunshine showering over two light-skinned pre-teen girls smiling at each as if admiring each other’s wavy long hair. After 1950’s disposable diaper, and 1995’s spill-proof cup, this 2007 award winner for ‘worry-free hair manageability’ is ’now available in the Ethnic Hair Care Section’ of my local retailer. To further penetrate the point, before/after sketches of individual hairs claim that ‘tightly curled hair tangles, causing breakage when combed’. Nappy hair cannot be combed, so you’re doing your child a favor when applying this to her delicate hair- as delicate as the sunflower bouquet in the darker girl’s arms.
The message here is that Black is naturally unmanageable, full of worry and darkness. Come into the sun and ‘take the worry out of manageability’. I suspect this slogan passed scores of marketing executives and test groups. These girls look neat and happy- a real breakthrough for the modern mother.
All my favorite Divas have that Soul Glow shine of one shade or another- preferably blond! And if there is one thing that should not be allowed to go down is bleached blond hair one Black person. The ritual is no worse than my fraternity brothers branding one of our ‘sorors’, not our constitutionally bound sisters, but another of the National Pan-Hellenic Council sorority that happened to use the same single Greek letter for shorthand. Indeed, with a common household hanger bent (clumsily so, and while intoxicated, I might add, in order to numb her- or him?) into shape and heated over a stove- Black chicks have the scourge of burning from lye, or worse the hot comb! Many parents wish to thwart the eventual perm for their daughter, a rite of passage which most Black girls face at some point in elementary school. The wise stall the practice, knowing its clear indication of sexual maturity: She is, after all, a woman. Her permed hair signals her availability. Good girls wear hot pressed pig tails till at least the fifth grade. Likely every single one of those branded sorors had suffered that ritualistic fate, only to engage another in college, and likely throughout their lives. They are pressed- hard-pressed hair!
Hidden amongst the plethora of hair charms are ‘deep penetrating’ cleansers, serums and creams to combat a range of ‘discoloration’ problems, though non-addressed self-esteem. Despite marketing tricks to link their products with ‘nature’ and health, straightening is unnatural and unhealthy, and this is fact. Self-esteem suffers, AND that shit just burns!
They should not have to be rich women who compromise everything.
Flip. Bone straight. More than dry skin, cancer, healthy eating habits, ‘relationship drama’, debt and the myriad of other lifestyle issues addressed in this issue, ‘hair’ is clearly their target audiences greatest contention. Including the total hair messes surrounding the horoscopes, Black hair problem solvers dawn over 15 glossies of X pages, two specifically for girls.
The one really chocolate sister in the magazine covers a full-page ad. Naturally her hair is straight, but admittedly she looks like a clown. In order to accentuate her hipness, this dark diva’s eyes are shadowed with turquoise, magenta, and burnt orange , allowing consumers to ‘show off the color that shows up on you’. ‘Aren’t you worth it?’ they tag their ad, as if to declare that indeed, as opposed to the dark lady whose feet we seen on the adjacent page, under a tattered pagne above the headline ‘out of Africa’. Aren’t you glad you made it out?
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