Diane Bailey: Locsmith Extraordinaire
The
exterior of natural hair salon Tendrils is like many spots in hip,
urban/boho Brooklyn—it’s nothing fabulous, really, resembling that
of a nondescript storefront or factory space. But of course, the
smart ones know that it’s the inside that counts. Step through
the doors of this Clinton Hill nook (tucked neatly at the corner of
Vanderbilt and Myrtle Aves.), and you’re ushered into a natural hair care
oasis—all rich colors and African adornments, the air thick with
fragrant sandalwood. Don’t be mistaken, however—it’s never
“chill time” for the employees. The air crackles with energy
as there are appointments to be made, twists to be started, cornrows
to be braided, locs to be twisted, colored, cut, adorned and
everything else. One chocolate-complexioned woman stands
out—tall and slender, her long black locs dance as she moves gracefully
through the shop under pressure, simultaneously greeting customers,
supervising stylists and confirming appointments—all done with a
cell phone glued to her ear. She’s bad, children. She’s
Diane Bailey, owner of Tendrils and natural hair care pioneer.
“I’ve always been
a braider, into hair care, nurturing, helping women with problem
hair,” says the 47-year-old Brooklyn native, who opened Tendrils in
1987 with a staff of two that she trained herself. Since then,
her talented hands have been all over the natural hair care
industry—including as a teacher and co-founder/president of the
International Braiders Network, an organization instrumental in
educating consumers and stylists about natural hair care through
seminars and workshops.
Those hands
are now taking a break as we sit in her home office, located in the
basement of a cozy
brownstone a short walk from Tendrils. With her terrier puppy Diamond
showing off in front of us, Bailey kicks back and shares knowledge about
doing handling her affairs in the natural hair care business and doing
her thing, as she puts it, “the way it needs to be done.”
Locs and natural
hair are everywhere one goes in New York City—especially Brooklyn.
But was it like that when you first opened Tendrils in the mid-1980s?
When Tendrils opened,
there weren’t as many locs. But Brooklyn’s always been a
cultural center. We have a large influx of Caribbean people,
particularly from Jamaica, so locs have always been familiar to us
here. When I began locing my hair in ’88…that’s
when cultivated locs became popular in Brooklyn—locs that didn’t
have anything to do with a religious base. In the industry,
I’m considered one of the people who helped promote the self-love
and care of our natural hair. That’s something that makes me feel
good. I’m not just a hairstylist—at this point, I feel like
I’ve motivated people and opened their minds to alternative looks.
Are there any hairstylists or salons that
have inspired you?
The one that inspired
me was Knapps (now known as Locs ‘N Chops, at 365
West 34th St. in Manhattan)—it used to be on
Flatbush Ave. Beautiful barbershop. I was still braiding
hair at home when a friend said, “You’ve got to come to my
friend’s barber shop—it’s Afrocentric, and it’s fantastic!”
This was around 1985 or 1986, so I was like, “An Afrocentric
barbershop? What are you talking about?” Girl, I went to that
barbershop, and it was hooked! They had African masks
everywhere…I get chills now just thinking about it. When I saw
that space, I knew it was time for me to get my own shop. I just
watched and saw, and I knew.
Did you grow up in
an environment that celebrated natural, kinky hair? Or were you, like
many women of color, taught that it was undesirable?
I grew up the same
way everyone else did—my hair was relaxed, I straightened my hair
with a straightening comb, I burned myself, etc. During my 20s,
I had chemical treatments until you could see my scalp. I wore
sponge rollers to bed, I did the whole thing. I fell prey to
wanting to have long, “luxurious” blonde hair like everyone else.
But I started to realize that my hair didn’t like chemicals.
It all became clear after college, when I went to school for cosmetology.
What styles are
really popular at Tendrils right now?
We have our signature
hairstyle, called the Afro Twist--and it’s done with a hair fiber
that’s used particularly for that style. We’ve been doing it now for
about five years. It really blew up about two years ago, when I
did the Afro Twist for the book The Essence Total Makeover. To
promote the book, they featured the style in the January 2000 issue of
Essence, and people started coming from everywhere—it was just
amazing. The style is still very popular, because it’s really
natural and light, and people hadn’t really seen anything like it.
Others have duplicated the technique, but we have a special way of
doing it so that it looks like nobody else’s work. But since
we’ve been working with this style for a while now, it’s time to
move on.
What are you
moving on to?
What styles and trends do you see becoming popular in the future?
In the spring, I’ll
hopefully be working with combination styles of cornrows and locs, locs
and weaves…
Locs
with
weaves--how are you going to do that?
I don’t know (laughs)!
We’re going to find out, though! We just had a
meeting last night, and I decided that this is where we need to
go—let’s explore. I put it out there to my staff, and they
were like, “Okay…she’s starting that crazy talk again…(laughs).”
But two years ago, I said, “I want to see cornrows
and locs.” They looked at me like I was crazy. For
example, A.J., [co-host of] BET’s “106 & Park”? I
talked about that two years ago. I love that combination; it’s
very tribal, very deliberate. I like when people explore with
that, and that’s what I want to do. And I don’t even know
what I’m saying when I say “weaves and locs.” But I figure that
if I keep saying it enough, maybe I can manifest it.
Which other
natural celebrity hairstyles do you admire?
Hmmm….well, I love
Busta Rhymes’ style. As far as women, I really like when Jill
Scott wears her hair out. I like Vanessa Williams’ (from the
Showtime TV series “Soul Food”) locs, also. I also like the
hairstyles of Diana Ross’ daughters--Tracee Ross (from the UPN TV
show “Girlfriends”), for example—I like that wild, free look.
And her other daughter (actress/singer Rhonda Ross) has beautiful locs. So, there are a few people
out there who are holding their own.
You do loc extensions, too. Some people feel that the concept of fake
locs goes against the widely-held perception that locs should be totally
natural and authentic. How do you feel about that?
My thing is this: We
have options. We are closer than we’ve ever been to
discovering who we are in a natural state. If adding extensions
gets you there, then I’ll do it. Some people need extensions,
because they just don’t have the fullness or the texture, or they
may want to add to whatever they already have. They may want to
embellish or enhance it. So extensions don’t necessarily mean
that you’re fake or false, it just means that you need some “added
help” to get to where you’re going. That’s how I look at
it. When Erykah Badu had extensions in her hair, I was
perfectly fine with it. Because in show business, you’re on
the road and not able to see a hairdresser every week—you need
someone to maintain it, etc.—so having extensions is just something
a little extra to make it happen. She’s a very hot
sista—she’s just real clear. She can wear her hair long one
minute, and then cut it. And she’s like, “All of it’s
me—I bought it, it’s mine!” Or, “If I want to shave it off,
it’s mine!”
Children’s locs—are you starting to see more of them?
We have a clientele
of young children—the earliest we'll start their locs is at the age
of three, because they don’t sit still. I started my daughter at
two, but I did it at home--while she was asleep, I’d twist her hair.
At her school, there are lots of kids with locs, which is great.
She still feels different at times—people still ask her about her
hair, but she’s not an oddity anymore. I think it helps to
develop self-esteem, because you know you’re different. And
“different” doesn’t mean better or worse—it just means that
you’re uniquely you. And that’s what I try to convey to
her—I think she’s got it at nine! So, if she decides at some
point to remove the locs, which I’m sure she will—she can always
grow them back. But I wanted to make sure she has that
foundation first—that natural hair isn’t ugly. My girlfriend
asks, “Why did you loc her hair so early? Why didn’t you give her
the option of waiting?” I said, “No—my mother didn’t give me
the option of straightening my hair.” When people take their
sons at age two to the barbershop—which I think is ridiculous,
exposing your child to sharp instruments at such an early age—it’s
like, “Why?”
But it’s because we have these notions in our head.
There’s a girl at my nine-year-old daughter’s school who has a
perm and a weave. What is that saying to a young girl, when you
can’t accept your basic self? You’ve got to weave your
daughter’s hair up, because it’s obviously not good enough for
you, and then you have to perm it because it’s not “manageable”
enough. What is that telling your daughter? That she’s not
good enough. So, she’s already messed up in her head.
What I’m saying to my daughter is, “You are good enough—I
don’t care what anybody says.” She’s beautiful, and I tell her
that all the time. Because I didn’t get that. And I’m
sure most of us didn’t. So, we have to make a conscious effort when
we raise our kids to let them know that they are acceptable and more
than sufficiently wonderful. And that yes, they’re different—but
so what? So is everybody else. Because my daughter’s
like, “But Mommy, I’m different.” And I’m like, “Well...yeah!
It’s a special kind of different, it’s a hot 'different.'”
What are some of
your experiences in other places with attitudes toward locs and
natural hair?
People are embracing
it in different ways. None of it’s negative, but some of it’s
reluctant; some of it is with apprehension—when you go South, for
example. It's not that they don’t like it; they’re just like, “Huh?”
They often want to touch it; they want to know if you can wash it…I
went to Savannah, GA. When my aunt died, a woman said to me, “Oh,
you’ve still got those locs.” And I replied, “Well, you still have
your hair, don’t you?” She was like, “Well…I like change.” I
said, “I change my hair—I curl it, I crimp it, I wear it up, down,
I can color it…I can do almost everything you can do.” She
was like, “Oh! Okay…” I didn’t get defensive, but I got
real clear with her. Don’t play me, this is not a fad—this is me,
it’s who I am. Most “mainstream” people think,
“Oh, it’s a fad, it’ll go away.” For the most part, we
do have choices. I just cut five inches off my hair. But I
know for a fact that I’m never going to put another perm in my hair.
Although I modified its length, I didn’t change the texture.
Locs
and natural
hair. Are people really starting to embrace them, or do you
think they’re just fads?
My hope is that 20
years from now, natural hair will be so mainstream that people won’t
even have to ask that question.
Good answer!
Hopefully, it’ll be
so interwoven into different perspectives of our world, that someone
with nappy hair will be able to just be. You don’t know how
many times people have asked me, “Is this a fad?” And I tell them,
“How can something be a fad when it’s been going on for so
long—for 4,000 years?” To me, locs are what the Afro was in the
60s. The Afro was connected to the Black Power political
movement. Locs are connected to a cultural power; a sense of
heritage, so it has a different lineage. And cultures don’t
change like that; they define a people and create boundaries for a
civilization. So with that, I can say that no, it’s not a fad.
Will people embrace the culture forever in this way? I
personally hope so. But like anything else, cultures define
themselves, so we won’t know. I definitely think that when my
daughter’s in college years from now, it will be more mainstream and
readily accepted.
For those who want
to get into the natural haircare business, what advice would you give
them?
The main thing is
that you have to be really passionate about people—you have to be a
people person. You need to be a nurturing person, because it’s
important to develop relationships with clients. That’s really
critical on an interpersonal level and when it comes to providing a service.
Natural hair care focuses more on nurturing and spiritual connection
than, say, cosmetology, which tends to be about glitz and glamour. Not
that you can’t mix the two—if you want a little glam with natural
hair or some nurturing with cosmetology, you can do it. But just
know that the fundamentals of natural hair is about embracing the
total being—body, mind and spirit. Removing chemicals from services
help you to do that—that’s one of the callings of natural hair
care.
For people who are
interested in learning more about it, Medgar
Evers College has The Fundamentals of Braiding I and II.
It’s a six-week course; I wrote the curriculum and taught it for six
years. It’s offered during the fall and spring semester.
There’s also Nzhinga’s School for Cosmetology in Brooklyn, which
offers a natural hair care license—they have a pretty good
curriculum. The
School of Cooperative Technical Education offers a natural hair
care license and curriculum as well. The Medgar Evers classes
don’t give licenses, but they do give a certificate of completion
(after 30 hours), which is a good way to see if the natural hair care
business is something you’re interested in.
Tendrils is
located at 154 Vanderbilt Ave. in Brooklyn, NY. Hours are Wed.
through Sat.; 10am - 6pm. For more information or an appointment, call
(718) 875-3811.
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