When my journey into styling and accepting my natural hair began in high school, one of my favorite styles was a slicked back bun. This was the perfect style because my hair was still natural and I was avoiding the heat, but I wasn’t ready to let my curls loose just yet.
My white friends begged me to show off my curls and wear my hair in its completely natural state because it was “different” and “unique,” but I opted to keep the comfort that my slicked back look provided. Many of the other black girls I met also wore this style, but for others, wearing hair down the back was considered the most attractive look, while a tight bun was perceived as matronly.
To my surprise, the slicked-back bun has now become the favorite hairstyle for white women, a defining part of what the TikTok community calls the “clean girl” beauty trend. Attributed to the off-duty model style inspired by celebrities like Hailey Bieber and Bella Hadid, the look often combines a chignon styled with gold hoops and neat acrylic nails, two other elements that have been a part of Black and Latino beauty cultures for years. years. . Why was it when I wore this look that it was considered less desirable, but now it’s a model-approved style that turns its wearers into “that girl”?
When Kaelyn Montoya, a marketing strategist in Austin, Texas, saw that the “clean girl” look was all the rage on TikTok, she was immediately confused as to how people thought this was something new. She posted a video on the page of herself styling her hair into a slicked back bun, saying that she was “taking back the clean girl bun” that Latina women had been wearing for decades. The video of her racked up more than a million views, but sparked controversy in the comments about whether a certain cultural group could claim a look.
“When [the clean girl trend] I found my page for the first time, it was not someone who looks like you or me,” Montoya said. “It’s [was] a blonde [woman]he had blue-green eyes and was wearing what looked like prep clothes. [She had] a bow, some hoop earrings, and [lip gloss]. It immediately felt very familiar to me, like something I had actually been doing all my life. I thought: ‘Is this a trend?’
Montoya was surprised to find that his own community was left out of the mix. Since both of her parents are from Honduras, Montoya grew up a member of the Latinx community, and this chignon, she says, was an important part of Latin beauty standards. She emphasizes that the look was especially prevalent among women of color who had textured hair.
Styling curly hair can be time consuming, so for her, this was the easiest hairstyle to take to school growing up. Despite her popularity among women of color at the time, there were still ignorant connotations surrounding the style. “I remember being in high school and someone asked me if I [wore] because he had lice,” says Montoya.
Like Montoya, celebrity hairstylist Sabrina Rowe Holdsworth said this style has been a “mainstream style” within the black and brown communities, something she’s been wearing since she was a little girl.
“It’s been a staple forever for good reason,” Holdsworth said. “Our hair has often been described as unruly, wild and unprofessional. A slippery bun was a way to ‘tame’ our hair; now it’s just a ‘basic do for a flying girl’.
Holdsworth doesn’t really care that the slicked-back bun is now worn by white women, especially because of its similarities to the French bun, a style in which the hair is pulled into a tight bun at the nape of the neck; the style also has long-standing popularity in ballet. The problem with style is when it’s promoted as part of a new beauty “trend” without acknowledging its origins.
“When white women rediscover something, it becomes a trend”, Holdsworth. “[The “clean girl” look] It’s been around forever, so my only request is that people stop saying it’s new and give credit to the black and brown women who it’s completely inspired and created by.”
Montoya shares a similar sentiment. “The trend feels momentary,” she says. “It also feels like pass and go, something you’re doing because it’s nice for the moment and for the season. The texture of our hair is not a season; we’re going to have to wear the bun all the time because that’s the type of hair we have. Saying it’s a ‘trend’ diminishes what that identity is to us.”
The texture of our hair is not a season; saying that it is a ‘trend’ diminishes what that identity is for us.
The “clean girl” look stems from the heritage and culture of marginalized communities, making it unfair for white beauty creators on the app to benefit from this look they just decided is right for them. “The bow, the acrylic nails, the dog tag [necklace]the earrings, are all things that have marginalized [us] as a group, so if you’re making a profit from it, it could be considered appropriation,” says Montoya.
In the end, Holdsworth says he doesn’t see it as a problem that the clean-girl look has gone mainstream, but stresses the importance of creators giving proper credit for things they didn’t create. “There is very little in the beauty space that is really new,” she says. “As you approach [these looks] with respect and [proper credit]you should be fine to enjoy.”
For me, my slicked-back bun was more than just a hairstyle; he offered me comfort and security in a space where I felt that both me and my hair would be judged. It started as a way for black and brown women to hide and hide, but soon became a central element that characterized the beauty culture of our communities: gold earrings, acrylic nails and all. This style was important to us long before it became a trending hashtag on TikTok.
If this “trend” has taught the beauty world anything, it is that nothing is new and everything is imbued with meaning. It is important that we understand this so as not to erase cultural groups from the narrative of their own beauty traditions. Never claim something new without proper investigation, because it probably wasn’t yours in the first place.
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Source: www.nylon.com