I permed my hair 12 years ago, because I always wanted a perm, but my mother would never let me have one! I got a lot of stick, but I didn't care - I loved the curls. The growing out was the difficult part!
I generally like to wear my hair down, preferably with soft curls. But when I'm having a bad hair day, I like to wear my hair in French braids or fishtail braids.
Anyone who has dead straight hair wants curls.
Puberty hit me pretty hard. All of a sudden, I woke up, and I had really curly hair.
I always had crazy, curly hair up in a bun, messy, running up and down, sweaty.
My hair is naturally super curly. But I really don't do so much to it. I just sleep on it and see what happens.
I think what is magic about black-girl hair is, at its basic level, it's just resilient. It can go from straight to curly in the same day. It's just transformative. When you don't feel so strong, the hair can be a sign of empowerment.
I keep my hair curly and natural because I really just wanna show who I am.
I straighten my hair very few times throughout the year, and it's only in the cold winter months because it's the only time my hair will stay straight. If there is, like, a tiny bit of humidity in the air, it's curly again.
There are situations when, in your singing, in your interpretation of songs, for instance, when you want a straight tone. And I have to work really hard at getting a straight tone... That's sort of like if you have curly hair, you have curly hair.
Growing up in Florida and having naturally curly hair was a bit tough. I had to learn to do treatments and masks to keep the frizz under control.
In TV, you get driven to work in a luxury car, and find flowers in your dressing room. Then suddenly you're on tour, drying your hair backstage on plastic curtains.
Schoolkids - black and white - would call me Kunta Kinte as a cuss. If ever my hair was particularly messy, if ever I looked scruffy at school, I would be called Kunta Kinte. My first impression was that it was bad to be African and bad to be associated with him.
It can be hard for the cute girl. I was blond, cute, broke. I was beat up. I was thrown inside lockers. I was burned with cigarettes. My hair was lit on fire.
Too bad all the people who know how to run this country are busy running taxicabs or cutting hair.
The cycling helmet can save your life, but it doesn't look good and tends to ruin your hair.
I can't live without mousse. When my hair is damp I put it at the roots. When I blow dry my hair it makes it so much bouncier. It gives you shampoo commercial hair and makes your blowout so much better.
I do have bad hair days. If I fall asleep with it slightly damp, I wake up and it'll all be piled up on top in a mess.
I damp my hair, take 2-3 drops of serum, and apply it through the length of my hair - my hair becomes super smooth, letting me style it any way I want, and - it also gets the perfect, glossy finish.
I remember acting in a school play about the melting pot when I was very little. There was a great big pot onstage. On the other side of the pot was a little girl who had dark hair, and she and I were representing the Italians. And I thought: Is that what an Italian looked like?
