Beyond the Braid: Why It’s Not “Just Hair”

fulani braids sewing for my sanity; Close-up portrait of the blog author, a Black woman with beautiful, beaded Fulani braids, looking confidently at the camera

A Black woman’s hair is an intricate part of her personality, her mood, her season. It’s a crowning jewel, and its versatility is a story in itself. That’s why it’s so appropriate that during my “Next Chapter” series, we take a moment to talk about hair. Not horsehair braid, (we will get back to that in a bit, I promise). We are talking about cultural appropriation with hair and hairstyles.

My own hair journey has been a long and winding road. As a child, teen, and young adult, my hairstyles changed with the times. I’ve had my ear singed with a hot comb straight off a gas stove—I know Madame C.J. Walker would be proud!

Madame C. J. Walker

I’ve worn the Jheri curl (don’t get that hair wet!), the lye perm, buns, braids, and plaits. Ultimately, about 12 years ago, I went natural and never looked back. The freedom to wear my hair as it grows from my scalp or, when I’m tired of it, braid it down for crochets, wigs, and all sorts of extensions, is a freedom I cherish.

This personal journey is why my blood starts to simmer when I see something so culturally rich and significant being treated like a disposable trend. A hairstyle for us is never just a hairstyle. And to understand why, we need to talk about the difference between broad terms and specific, cultural art forms.

The Art and Soul of Fulani Braids

Many people use “Tribal braids” as a catch-all, but that broad umbrella covers a vast and diverse array of braiding styles from hundreds of African ethnic groups. To lump everything under that term erases the specific identities woven into the plaits.

A perfect example is Fulani braids. This is not a generic term; it is a specific, intricate, and deeply symbolic art form from the Fulani (or Fula) people of West Africa. Traditionally, the style is characterized by a central cornrow braided down the middle of the head, with other cornrows braided towards the face. The adornments—beads, cowrie shells, metal cuffs—aren’t just accessories; historically, they signified wealth, marital status, and social standing.

To see this style stripped of its context and labeled something else feels like watching a sacred text being used as a coffee table book.

The Painful Double Standard of Appropriation

This brings us to the thorny issue of cultural appropriation. When we see celebrities like Kim Kardashian or Bo Derek credited for “new” or “edgy” hairstyles that are clearly Fulani braids, it’s a slap in the face. Instead of those comparisons, I choose to look to role models like the incomparable Susan Taylor, former editor of the illustrious Essence Magazine.

While anyone can wear any style, the issue arises when the cultural origins are ignored, erasing generations of Black women who have worn these styles as a symbol of their heritage, often in the face of severe discrimination. I can recall when I first went natural, it was not a popular style. Some in my own family questioned whether I would lose my position at work as a physician or if my professional reputation would be damaged. Truly, I could not understand this. Everyone else at work was allowed to neatly wear their hair as it grew out of their head; why couldn’t I? This personal experience underscores the documented reality:

It’s a documented reality with significant social and economic consequences.

According to the 2023 CROWN Workplace Study, co-commissioned by Dove and LinkedIn, the bias is stark:

  • Black women’s hair is 2.5 times more likely to be perceived as unprofessional.
  • This has a direct impact on job prospects, as a staggering two-thirds (66%) of Black women report changing their hair for a job interview. Among them, 41% felt they needed to straighten their hair.
  • The pressure is immense: 25% of Black women believe they have been denied a job interview simply because of their hair. This number jumps to one-third for Black women under the age of 34.
  • Even in the workplace, the discrimination continues. Over 20% of Black women aged 25-34 have been sent home from work because of their hair.

This systemic issue is why organizations have fought so hard for The CROWN Act (Creating a Respectful and Open World for Natural Hair). As of today, this landmark legislation, which bans race-based hair discrimination, has been passed into law in 25 states.

So, when the very same styles that can cost a Black woman a job opportunity are celebrated as “high-fashion” on non-Black individuals, it is the definition of a painful double standard. It’s taking the beauty without the burden and the style without the story.

Honoring the Craft: A Guide to the Styles

Part of giving credit is knowing what we’re actually looking at. Calling a style by its proper name is the first step toward appreciation and gratitude. Braids in particular aren’t just braids. Often the style, design, color, accessories beads and adornment tell you much about the person before you ever speak a word.

  • Fulani Braids: Defined by a pattern of cornrows down the center part and along the temples, while the rest of the hair is in individual braids. Often adorned with beads.
  • Boho Braids (or Goddess Braids): Traditional box braids where pieces of curly, wavy hair are left out of the braid, creating a soft, full, and textured look.
  • Lemonade Braids: A full head of neat, curvy, side-swept cornrows, all flowing in one direction, popularized by Beyoncé.
  • Tree Braids: A technique where tiny cornrows are used as a hidden base, and loose hair is pulled out of the braid to create the look of a full, free-flowing hairstyle.

A Creator’s Responsibility

As someone passionate about design, I believe in the power of inspiration. But there’s a fine line between inspiration and appropriation. Before you jump on a “trend,” take a moment to understand its origins. Ask yourself:

  • What is the history of this style?
  • Am I giving credit where credit is due?
  • Am I perpetuating a harmful double standard?

This isn’t about building walls around cultures. It’s about ensuring that the vibrant communities that have gifted us so much are honored, not just mined for fleeting trends. Our hair tells a story. Let’s make sure we’re listening.