by Sharlyn Pierre
In a recent conversation with my sister-in-law who was talking about her niece and said, “her hair is so big and full—she has Diana Ross hair!”
In an instant I was filled with hair envy.
Am I embarrassed to admit that I was jealous of a toddler? Absolutely not. The funny thing about women and hair is that we always want someone else’s, and if I had a chance to swap wig pieces with anyone, it would be Ms. Ross.
If you know me, then you know my obsession with this woman is quite real. She was my biggest inspiration for going natural. Some of us aren’t as lucky the aforementioned tyke.
It isn’t just about Diana Ross’ hair either; it’s about the presence she’s had in my life.
From my class singing Ease On Down The Road in our fourth grade spring show, to an ill college student nursing a Love Hangover, and now, as a woman on the move who blares I’m Coming Out on her iPod every morning, that gorgeous creature has touched every area of my being. Her style of dress alone has “yassss” written all over it.
But once again, it’s deeper than that; it’s about the divine connection she transfers from verse to verse; a house of power packed into that small frame. Always regal but yet you could always read the vulnerability in her eyes. They let you know that she would fight for our sisterhood, even if she got hurt in the process. She would make sure she got a few hits in, Detroit-style.
And hits are what she has had; her catalogue landed her in the record books and she even penned one or two in the process. Diana knew how to reveal her many layers. She could be a bit cheeky at times, but no move was ever careless. With a simple hair flip, you knew she was shaking off naysayers.
Before a boss was a “bawse,” there was Ms. Diana Ross.
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