Asian guy speaks: I think Black Women have Sexy Hair!

A couple months ago I was strolling through movie trailers section on Youtube. After a few good ones, a handful of shitty ones, and one or two trailers that made me say “WOW, I’m illegalling watching this ASAP!”, I came across a movie that opened up my Asian eyes completely: Good Hair.

Now, in case you didn’t read the banner on top, I’m Asian. I know just as much about black culture as any other Asian: Miles Davis, The Black Panthers, and in eighth grade I could say “YEEEAAAAAHH!” and “OKKAAAY!” like Lil Jon.  But for some reason, I never knew about this “black hair industry”.

I mean, I knew that black hair was different, and I knew about weaves, but that’s about it. It just wasn’t a topic people talked about. Sure, 17% of my High School was black, and yes, I did have a few black friends, but no one ever sat me down with a cup of warm tea and said “Ranier, it’s difficult for black people to straighten their hair. We have to use chemicals. I’m sorry you had to hear it from me.”

omgomgomgomgomg

But after watching that movie, it got me thinking: we live in a society that worships white features. We want their noses, we want their hair color, and we want their skin color. And now we want their hair texture? Holy crap!

But the surprising thing is that I had internalized some of it. After watching the trailer I tested myself: I looked at pictures of various black women with their straightened hair, and then with natural hair. In the end, I found myself preferring the straight hair, and I began to feel a bit troubled: I disliked black hair and I didn’t even have a reason why.

If only I saw how cute this woman was, I would have never felt that way

Has America painted the Black Woman as perfectly IMPERFECT? By American standards (as seen on T.V), the ideal woman is light skinned, with colored eyes, and straight hair. However, the typical black women has none of those – she has dark skin, dark eyes, and curly hair. Does that make Black women not beautiful?

And even though I’m Asian and I don’t share this problem with Black people, I can sympathize. I know what it’s like to look in the mirror and see your ethnic features, and ask yourself “am I ugly?” In an effort to reformat my thinking I tried to find the beauty in Black beauty. And I think I found it:

This is by far the GREATEST picture of all times <3

Sure, Black women don’t have natural straight hair, but what they do have is unique. NO one in the world can have that kind of hair. Black women can make their hair look White, or Indian, or Asian, but there are no White people who can make their hair look black. It’s a beauty that can only be seen in one group of people in this world. Doesn’t that make it beautiful?

Doesn’t the fact that it’s so rare and hard to replicate, make it gorgeous? When you realize the amount of work that Black women go through just to make their hair seem “normal” doesn’t that struggle make it beautiful? I mean shit! Their HAIR has a story to it! What do Asians and Whites have to say about their hair?

A message to all Black Women: Don’t change a thing. No matter how full, or curly. It doesn’t matter if the world prefers you light, dark, or darker. Forget what any magazine tells you. Black isn’t beautiful, it’s fucking gorgeous.

Marry me?

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I think girls who can wear a fro

are super sexy.

Falco 2: And The Revenge Of The Sexy Girls

My luck in the women department can be very random. Some days I can be a high roller reeling in big game and going on a winning streak. But on other days, I can fail miserably. It’s almost as if Satan had sent down his own patrol of anti-men, born and raised for the purpose of ruining my life. But today wasn’t a bad day. Today was like a nice game of baseball – and  I scored a double.

Japanese Baseball Player: Ichiro Suzuki

The First Inning

For the past few weeks the rain had put a damper on my mood and consequently, my outfits. I schlepped into school day after day wearing boring shit, with the confidence of a 13 year old who had just got his first pimple.  Laziness got the best of me and I also didn’t do my hair for a week. To put it simply, I was bummin it.

But today I decided “Fuck that shit! I need to get my ass to the closet, dress up, and put on my Super Asian-Man cape; fly throughout the college campus, and hit on as many women as possible!” So I did. Gray on black on black on white. My hair was did and I now had the confidence of an El Matador!

A Japanese Matador? WHO KNEW?!

As soon as I stepped foot onto campus, I felt damn good. A surge of energy rushed through my veins when all of a sudden, I saw a very pretty 25-something year old girl, staring at me, wide eyed, jaw slightly open. As our paths came closer and closer, she opened her pretty mouth and said:

” Wow….you dress very nice!”

That was it. I was fucked. My ego had already shot into outer space and I was on cloud 999. After “suffering” through two “harsh” hours of class, I got out and decided to walk around. I enjoy walking around campus. Yes, sometimes I look for cute girls to talk to but most of the time I just look for girls to look at – whether it’s their beautiful face I’m looking at, or their incredible outfit.

As I went up the walkway I saw her in the distance. “Her” was a gorgeous, short haired, 22 year old Vietnamese/Indian/French Librarian who worked on campus in the morning. Last quarter, I tried to pursue her by checking out books (which I never read) and movies (which I never watched), all for the opportunity to say “hi”.

Unfortunately, things fizzled out because she was always so busy. Busy with work, busy with school, and too busy for me. I kinda hated it. So after a few failed email attempts in trying to set up a date, I quit. I left the relationship open ended in the hopes that it would pick up again. Today, it picked up again.

Her: HEY!
Me: HEY!
Her: Long time no see! How are you?
Me: I’m great! Yourself?
Her: I’ve just been very very busy. But I just got out of class.
Me: Where did you park?
Her: The Flint Center. You?
Me: Same here. Come on, I’ll walk you

Within that cosmic-like 5 minutes, we caught up on school, life, and future plans. And walking with her made me remember just how pretty she was. There we were, toe to toe, facing each other, ready to part.

Me: Well it was great catching up with you
Her: Yes! Hopefully I’ll see you around!
Me: Oh yea! I’ve been meaning to email you because I wanted to work with you (on a photoshoot)
Her: Oh of course! I’ll just call you sometime or text you my schedule and we can plan it out!
Me: Sounds good! We’ll have lunch or something.
Her: Sounds good! See ya!

The Second Inning

Still juiced up from talking to Laura, my confidence was much too high to simply retire and go home. NO! That would be a waste of confidence! Instead, I decided to walk around Valley Fair mall for two reasons: 1.) I wanted the exercise and 2.) I wanted to get outfit ideas from the window displays. Oh, and also to see if I could meet any more cute girls

One of my favorite things about going to the mall all dressed up is the number of times I get the “double take”. Due to the fact that most guys don’t dress like me, for the fear of being typecasted as “GAY”, I am often seen as a rare breed. So when I patrol through the mall, I always check for the girls who turn around and do the double take. “One. Two. Three. Four…”

And then, all of a sudden, out of nowhere… “RANIER!” My head swiveled around like a stool chair and I turned around to see: no one. “Up here!” I looked up and there she was. “She” was a beautiful black girl who I had in my class last quarter. We went out once but ever since then, like my situation with Laura, things fizzled out.

Me: HEY! Stay right there! I’ll come up!

Her: Wow! Nice to see you! *Hug*
Me: Wow! Haha! How are you?!
Her: I’m great! And yourself?
Me: I’m good What are you doing here?
Her: I’m just here with my sister looking for sneakers. You?
Me: Just walking around.

(More catching up)

Me: Well, It was nice seeing you around. I’d love to stay and chat but I don’t want to disrupt you guys.
Her: Oh no! You can come with us if you want!
Me: Haha Sure!

She introduced me to her gorgeous sister, who also happens to dress incredibly well. After a quick introduction, we were off. So there I was, strolling through the mall, with two beautiful, well spoken, intelligent, and stylish black women at my side. I felt pretty good about myself until I realized that people are either thinking a.) I’m an Asian ladies-man or b.) I’m Gay.

:)))))))))

As we walked into various stores, my situation instantly reminded me of the movie Hitch, and this specific quote: “Tonight isn’t about you, or her. It’s about her best friend. A woman’s best friend has to sign off on all big relationship decisions.”

Being that this was her big sister, the previous quote stands even more true. So I decided to chat up and get along with her sister in a harmless and full-proof-guaranteed-success way: I talked about style and fashion. “What do you like? What do you not like? What’s your opinion about Juicy Couture?”

Eventually, I got both of them to smile and we were a very happy trio. After a loop around the mall, we went our separate paths and said our goodbyes. Saddened by my current lack of Chocolate, I retired my confidence and went home.

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The two events that transpired today seemed exponentially rare. Sure, the thing with Laura wasn’t so unusual but meeting Melanie at the mall as well? That’s just plain luck. Sitting here I truly wonder: when a relationship is left hanging, is it just waiting to be picked up again? Or is it a sign that it’s ready to die?

Today, two loose ends were finally fixed up again – or at the very least, repaired. I feel refreshed, rejuvenated, and alive. My confidence is back up and I’m ready to play again. But is luck really an issue here? Or should we simply play more, and wish for Lady-Probability to be on our side? I might have been in the slums for the past few days but after today, I feel like I’ve won the fuckin lottery. Oh, and one more thing…

…
…
…
…

….There’s still another girl that I haven’t mentioned yet

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I’m back in the game baby!