Our Hair, Our History Not a Trend, Not a Rebrand

“You need to pick your Afro, daddy, because it’s flat on one side.” “I rock rough and stuff with my Afro Puffs.” “Don’t touch my hair, don’t touch my crown.” These are just a few lyrics from artists who have proudly celebrated our roots, our culture, and the reality that our hair represents far more than a passing trend. Artists like Solange reminded the world that our hair is sacred, personal, and political. And while India Arie taught us that we are not defined by our hair, we also can’t deny that it has always been a powerful part of our cultural identity.

Instagram: Tracee Ellis Ross/Tyler Mitchell

From slavery when braids were used not only as a means of survival, transporting grains and mapping escape routes to locs symbolizing freedom and liberation, to the countless styles in between that serve as expressions of self, our hair has always told a story.

So why is it that when we express ourselves through our hair, fashion, and language, it’s labeled “ghetto” until someone else takes it, remixes it, and rebrands it? Cultural appropriation continues to show up in ways that feel both familiar and frustrating. We’ve seen it when Kim Kardashian wore cornrows and called them “boxer braids.” We’ve seen it when Travis Kelce was praised for a fade a style Black men have been wearing for decades. And now, we’re seeing it again as Vogue and hairstylist Tom Smith attempt to rename the Afro a “cloud bob,” calling it fall’s breeziest haircut.

The Afro became prominent in the Black community throughout the 60s and 70s as a symbol of power, resistance, and self-love. It was a bold rejection of societal norms and an embrace of natural beauty in its purest form. While its popularity has ebbed and flowed over time, its return has been intentional a political statement reminding the world that the way our hair naturally grows should never be deemed unprofessional. In fact, the discrimination became so pervasive that laws had to be passed to protect us in workplaces and schools.

So when major publications like Vogue repackage and rename something so deeply rooted in Black culture without proper acknowledgment, it feels like a backhanded compliment. There’s nothing wrong with drawing inspiration from different cultures, but completely rebranding something with such historical and cultural significance reflects either a lack of education or a refusal to acknowledge the truth.

Our culture is not a trend. Our hair is not new. And our history is not up for reinvention.

Instagram: Tracee Ellis Ross

Shout out to award-winning film director and platinum songwriter TĒDRA, who showed how admiration can exist without appropriation. Her concept of blending an Afro and a bob into a soft, cloud-like vision proves that inspiration doesn’t have to erase or rename it can simply reimagine while still honoring the source.