Keratin Treatment For Black Afro Hair
Ah, the eternal struggle of taming the wild beast that is Keratin treatment for black afro hair! If you’re like me, with thick, knotty, and downright obstinate curly locks, you’ll understand why we’re always on the hunt for that miracle treatment that can whip our manes into shape. For many black women, it’s a never-ending battle between embracing our natural styles (think braids, twists, and glorious afros) and protecting our hair under wigs and weaves. Enter the world of Keratin treatments – a mystery that lurks in the shadows for most black women, whispering promises of tamed locks and easier hair management. But what exactly is it, and will it be the savior we’ve all been craving?
For many of us, taking the Keratin plunge is weighed down by fears that it’s just a fancier version of a Relaxer – and we all have enough battle scars from those to last a lifetime. But fear not, dear reader, for in this blog, we will embark on an enlightening journey to unravel the elusive secrets of Keratin treatments for black afro hair. So buckle up, and let’s dive into the hair-raising world of Keratin!
Keratin vs Relaxers: The core difference
Afro hair, you beautiful knotty menace you. If you’ve ever dealt with this love-hate relationship, mentioning hair treatments gives you the chills. We’ve all heard horror stories about relaxers stripping our hair to its skeletal structure, leaving an aftermath resembling bristle on a broom. Let’s face it. Sitting with a head wrapped in chemicals while flipping through a magazine with a brave smile is about as joyful as a bikini wax at a monastery.
Enter Keratin, touting itself as a gentler alternative to treat our frizzy forelocks. Now, before you jump out of your seat thinking it’s a knight in shining armor ready to transform your mane into a silky waterfall, hit the brakes! Is it as gentle as it pretends to be, or is it just another wolf in sheep’s clothing?
One tall myth towers over the world of Keratin treatments like a dark cloud, suggesting it can thin out and damage afro hair as if our coiled curls were some Hollywood actress with a reputation as delicate as china, destined to crack under the pressure of a mere hair treatment! Let’s get to the heart of this issue. Could Keratin be that shoulder-devouring alter-ego monster from a comic book, or is it just misunderstood like that unwelcome broccoli on your dinner plate that you later in life learned is good for you?
Here’s the hard truth, ladies: Keratin won’t thin out and damage your hair.
It’s important to remember that it’s not about dramatically transforming us into a squad of J Lo look-alikes (although that wouldn’t be too bad, would it?). The focus is on repairing and restoring the hair structure while taming the frizz.
Of course, finding the middle ground between believable blogs and fear-mongering hair posts can be like solving an algebraic expression – utterly perplexing. As they say, the truth usually lies somewhere in between. So hold on tight, ladies. Things are about to get hairy in hair-town! Thus begins our wild ride into the world of Keratin treatments. Buckle up! +++
My Keratin journey: Personal experience and insights at Trevor Sorbie Salon
Stepping into the Trevor Sorbie Salon felt like submitting my unruly afro to boot camp, with the drill sergeant being none other than the esteemed and competent Ben. Now, let’s be frank: envisioning someone else tackling the labyrinth of my hair spawns a cocktail of fear and skepticism, with a twist of morbid curiosity.
First up, Ben doused my tresses in a pre-treatment cleanser by KeraStraight. This wasn’t your bog-standard shampoo – oh no – it felt like the first chapter of an epic saga entitled “The Taming of the Shrew’s Mane.” The potion sat on my head, no doubt plotting with each strand, persuading them to loosen their fiendish grip on their neighbors for a ten-minute truce.
Then came the KeraStraight application, the pièce de résistance, the main event. This wasn’t just a product; it was a liquid vow to protect and uphold the sanctity of each hair. As Ben slathered it on, bit by bit, it felt like he was knight-ting each strand with a coat of armor. And, as the creamy substance began establishing its territory, a faint tingling sensation set in. Was it the sting of transformation hair or my scalp shocked into submission? Who could say?
The tingling? It is a mild sensation, not entirely unpleasant — something akin to the buzz one might feel when their crush texts them back. It’s the hair’s way of whispering, “Something’s happening here,” instilling a ticklish anticipation of what’s to come. Little did those follicles know, they were in for quite the ride. As you can tell, my initial trepidation slowly melted away, much like my willpower at a dessert buffet – quickly and with little resistance.
Post-application talks: Setting the right expectations
After slathering my tendriled temple with the KeraStraight elixir, I was now perched in the stylist’s chair, engaged in the most thrilling waiting game since the last season of “Game of Thrones.” Spoiler: this saga involves fewer dragons and more hairdryers. This, the land between application and rinsing, is a realm where patience is indeed a virtue, and traffic jams appear to move at warp speed in comparison. Just when you think time couldn’t inch along any slower, you realize you’re in a salon, not a time machine.
Ben, the sage of smooth strands, then began to recite verses from the holy book of Post-Keraplication Care. “Thou shalt not wash thine hair for 72 hours.” “Thou shalt embrace the slick life, free from the tyranny of ponytails and hair clips.” I listened intently, not daring to anger the hair gods with thoughts of disobedience. His advice: keep it loose, fancy-free, and, for the hair’s sake, avoid any encounters with H2O as if you were the Wicked Witch of the West.
And as much as I longed to run my fingers through my new silky mane, Ben’s words echoed in my mind, “Patience, young Skywalker, your smooth, glossy destiny awaits.” As the hours ticked by, I imagined a future where my comb didn’t need to double as a weapon of mass detangling.
Initial results and reactions
Ah, the first few days of having Keratin-treated hair were like floating in a bubble of fairy floss! I was serenaded by the silky touch of my once unmanageable mane, and I must say, it felt insanely good! Waking up every morning with hair that seemed straight out of a shampoo commercial? Check. Was I swooning with friends and relatives, gasping at my hair transformation? Check. Finally, becoming the unofficial Rapunzel of afro hair? Check.
But you know what they say about anything that seems too good to be true… it usually is. Also, living in a world with zero frizz is akin to living without social media arguments over pineapple on pizza; startlingly odd.
On day four, I spent a good 20 minutes staring at my highly cooperative, soft-smooth hair in disbelief. My afro locks, which usually stood defiant, were now a straight, well-behaved congregation of strands brazenly denying its former life. It was weird.
“Who are you, and what have you done to my exuberant Chaos-in-Chief?” I half-expected my hair to come alive, chuckling, “Gotcha!”
So yes, there was a tinge of unsettling strangeness. Isn’t change supposed to feel a little weird? If it doesn’t, then perhaps you’re not doing it right! Remember, folks, that going from a fluffy cloud of magnificent tangle to a silky river of straight hair overnight is a landscape shift, not a hair shift!
But hello, manageable mornings! As exceptional as it was, I was certainly loving this change. Consider it a hair vacation, my little retreat from the relentless detangling routine. But, of course, the question remained: How long was this vacation set to last?
Long-Term Review: Does Keratin stand the test of time?
Fate, my vanity-fueled calendar, lost itself a good laugh when the dreaded first ‘post-treatment’ shampoo day coincidentally fell on Valentine’s Day. Imagine, fresh out of the salon, Aang on the wind in my hair, sun in my eyes- Wait. Did I feel a knot? No, my swift-moving fingers feverishly tried to disentangle the phantom knot, but alas!
One month in, my hair seems to have developed a split-personality disorder. Supple and glossy at the roots, but on the tips? It’s straight-up social-distancing. Their stiff demeanor modeled perfectly for ‘How to easily break hair ties 101’, absolving my fears about potential hair thinning with intense conditioning updates. I realized that even though Keratin was akin to that promising Tinder Profile, reality rehearsals, routines, and touch-ups were a must if Keratin and I were to reach the three-month mark.
Speaking of touch-ups, one can’t help but wonder – does this much high maintenance warrant a luscious mane? Well, detangling sessions became something less of a medieval torture technique whilst the styling reduced to only about an entire streaming of a sitcom episode. So, in theory, you’re gaining more productivity time. Win-win! Or rather, less lose-lose!
Finally, the holy grail, the question I know you’ve been dying to know, was the mythical story of Keratin’s treatment causing more harm than good justified? The short answer? Not entirely. While my hair isn’t quite reminiscing its pre-Keratin rebellion, it isn’t singing praises in mythical straightened glory either. Prospects of damage seemed to be proportionate to my relative paranoia and haircare routine. So, for all the Keratin-cats out there, your hair’s destiny lies primarily in your hair-brained antics!
Conclusion
So, has this Keratin escapade turned my untamable mane into a docile dream, or am I nursing a secret yearning to embrace the wild side again? Let’s spill the tea—it’s a game-changer, honey! For those peering over the Keratin fence, wiggle off that perch and land softly on the side of liberation. Give your locks the glossy revolution they’ve been protesting for—it’s time to switch up the narrative!
