Isn’t it ironic, don’t ya think?

As I’m snuggled up on the couch watching Kinky Boots with my hubby and dreading going to work tonight, the movie got me to thinking about iconic beauty…That’s a good movie, by the way. It’s been on my short list for ages, but I just never sat down to watch it. Oddly enough, my comfortable in his own skin hubby was watching it when I woke up, and I decided to join him.

For white women, it’s long blond hair and blue eyes. For black women, it’s light skinned girls with long, curly, fine hair. That doesn’t make sense to me. I get the white side, it’s essentially the purest of pure European iconic woman. But for us? We don’t make sense.

The iconic black woman should be the purest of pure black woman. That straight out of the villages in Africa black woman. That dark skinned, nappiest of nappy hair, beautifully laden in handmade jewelry, shapely black woman.

Where did we go wrong? Why did we go wrong? I feel our current generation is too smart to still be confused by something as obviously twisted by this. Can African-America ever be capable of embracing our true icon or is it simply not what we’re about here? I might buy the explanation that America is a melting pot and the true American is a blending of all of the nationalities that have migrated- by force or choice- here. Then white people are confused, and we’ve got it right.

Who knows… All I know is i need to tame my ‘fro and get on to work. My hair is screaming at me wondering why I haven’t tended to it in a day or so. Not to worry, you little patch of nappy love, I will shampoo you and condition you and moisturize you before I go.

Have a good weekend folks. Send me your iconic black women. I’d like to know.

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