DTMH

DTMH. For those who do not know, Solange’s hairstyle for the Evening Standard editorial was a symbolic, culture-rich style. My beautiful friend @Shingai is known to regularly rock similarly threaded ornate styles when she performs. This hairstyle is symbolic, rich in culture and hella offensive to be edited out. Even the journalist who wrote the accompanying article and photographer who captured the original image have condemned the magazine’s edit. Braiding is really symbolic to people of colour and so when her spectacular African-style braided crown was altered on the front of the Evening Standard Magazine Solange aka @SaintRecords posted the original version on Instagram, with the caption “dtmh (don’t touch my hair). I wonder if they would have considered editing out the bindhi on a Hindu or Jain woman, or the turban on a Sikh? Highlighting and sharing this here as an example, so that when your WOC friends talk about the thoughtless erasure of our identity, you know what we mean.

The controversy was ironic not only because of the title of Knowles’s song, but also because of the way she described the importance of her hair in the magazine’s article. In the interview with the magazine, Knowles said braiding is an “act of beauty, an act of convenience and an act of tradition.” It is “its own art form,” she added. She even also spoke of growing up as a young girl in her mother’s salon, which she described as a “safe haven”. Right now, I don’t think the words to her song, literally called ‘Don’t touch my hair’, could be more appropriate, so here were go…

Lyrics
Don’t touch my hair
When it’s the feelings I wear
Don’t touch my soul
When it’s the rhythm I know
Don’t touch my crown
They say the vision I’ve found
Don’t touch what’s there
When it’s the feelings I wear
They don’t understand
What it means to me
Where we chose to go
Where we’ve been to know
They don’t understand
What it means to me
Where we chose to go
Where we’ve been to know
You know this hair is my shit
Rode the ride, I gave it time
But this here is mine
You know this hair is my shit
Rode the ride, I gave it time
But this here is mine
What you say, oh?
What you say to me?
Don’t touch my pride
They say the glory’s all mine
Don’t test my mouth
They say the truth is my sound
They don’t understand
What it means to me
Where we chose to go
Where we’ve been to know
They don’t understand
What it means to me
Where we chose to go
Where we’ve been to know
You know this hair is my shit
Rode the ride, I gave it time
But this here is mine
You know this hair is my shit
Rode the ride, I gave it time
But this here is mine
What you say, oh?
What you say to me?