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Kiwi's Dreadlocks Dreadcool |
| Hairstyles - Curly Hairstyles |
| Written by Amanda Linnell |
New Zealand Dreadlocks Culture
Dreadlocks dangle from the car door, sweep the floor in nightclubs and are measured in years, not lengths. Amanda Linnell meets dreadlocked Kiwis for whom hair is more life than a style. HOW'S a girl to keep up? Just after you've cut your hair into a modern-day mullet, your hairdresser's preaching a conversion to Farrah-flicks. Yet as you fork out money on new styles, colours and a seemingly endless array of styling lotions and potions, a group of hipsters are smugly watching from the sideline.
Bringing a new meaning to wash and go--with them it's just go--these dreadlocked funksters are a trend unto themselves. Not swayed by the fickle world of hair fashion they remain steadfast through the fads, patiently twisting their hair into literally carefree dreadlocks.
Of course, there's nothing new about dreadlocks or dreads. They date back as far as the 5th century when, according to Hindu beliefs, they signified a singleminded pursuit of the spiritual. But how does something so old remain so hip? For their new book, Dreads, New York photographers Francesco Mastalia and Alfonse Pagano travelled the world capturing more than 100 dread-heads from all walks of life.
From Indian sadhus to a Jamaican poet, a Maori gang member to a New York scientist, the book is proof that wearing dreadlocks today transcends racial and religious barriers. The individuals featured represent a cross-section of society, their reasons for letting their hair lock as diverse as the wearers themselves.
Auckland bar manager Jessica Ault, who features in the book, started growing her dreads 10 years ago when she was 15 and living in Christchurch.
"It was that sort of grungy, op-shop, unemployed look that was cool at the time," she laughs. "I'd been teasing my hair and putting so much weird stuff into it to make it do crazy things, that the dreads just sort of happened." Today, her dreadlocks hang down her back. She washes them once a month, and puts a henna dye through them every three months.
"The dreadlocks don't smell, they don't feel dirty and they're incredibly easy to look after. Because I've grown them, they don't feel heavy but, I guess, if someone else put them on their head they would be.
"I couldn't go back to having normal hair--it would just be incredibly hard work to do anything with. A few years ago, I did go through a really frustrated period and almost chopped them off. But once I worked through that I now have no inclination whatsoever to get rid of them."
For Kirsty Gregg, an artist and fashion boutique owner, the desire to cut her now calf-length dreadlocks washes over her every couple of years. "I go through phases where I think I'd love to have soft, flowing hair or how nice it would be to have a fashionable hairstyle, but dreads are so easy and they are part of my identity. And the great thing is, if I'm wearing something and I don't like it from behind I just take my hair out and it covers it up. Dreadlocks are great for hiding things like bra-strap bulge or lumps and bumps."
I couldn't imagine those ropes on their heads were hair . . natural hair to which nothing was added, not even a brushing . . . I wondered what such hair felt like, smelled like. What a person dreamed about at night, with hair like that spreading across the pillow . . . writes Black American author Alice Walker in Dreadlocks.
"Well," laughs Gregg, whose dreads have been inspired by a teenage infatuation with Boy George, "in bed I usually just throw my locks over to one side. Occasionally my partner lies on it so when I turn over I have to give it a tug. It's obviously not very pleasant to lie on because it feels quite scratchy, it's not silky."
Other difficulties for Gregg involve driving with her dreadlocks hanging out the car door or not being able to fit in the car because the dreads are piled so high on her head they hit the roof.
"Swimming is a hassle. I usually just put it in one big plait because otherwise it tangles around my body and it feels raspy, like being caught in seaweed. Freestyle's not the easiest, breaststroke is best."
Both Ault and Gregg are approached daily by people curious about their dreadlocks. "It's quite odd," says Gregg. "People just come up and go `that real?' without even saying `excuse me' or they start playing around with my hair. It's like `hang on, that's attached to me'. It can be quite rude."
The general response, however, is positive. "I have ladies in their 60s telling me what lovely hair I have," says Gregg. "People do tend to think you're a Bob Marley-loving Rastafarian who smokes lots of marijuana. I mean, I think Marley's a great musician but that's as far as it goes. When dreadlock Nandor Tanczos was voted into parliament, strangers would say, `Ah, I see ya mate got in then'. Actually, I don't vote Green but people just assume you do."
One person who knows all too well about pre-conceived judgements is architecture student Kara Dodd. She's had dreadlocks on and off since she was 18, and believes people do respond differently.
"There's a lot of stigma attached to dreads," she says, "especially in professional circles. I find you do have to try a bit harder sometimes to prove yourself, but I don't really care what people say. There are people with preconceptions who are quite often shocked when they discover, `oh, she's quite a nice girl really'. When I don't have dreads people concentrate on other things. People are so fickle in the way they judge you."
Dodd does believe society is becoming more accepting. "You're always going to have right-wingers who'll think what a bunch of losers; what dirty, lazy people. But as it becomes more common to have dreadlocks, there's more interaction and therefore the realisation that we're actually quite normal people."
When Dodd was photographed for Dread her locks were 10 years long. She chose to shave them off, however, when her mother died of cancer. "The dreadlocks were long and heavy, and there was a lot of life, memories and history in that hair," she says. "I shaved them off the night before the funeral and put the first ones in my mother's coffin. My mother dying was the biggest thing that's ever happened to me, along with having my son, and it seemed important to dosomething. It was a form of cleansing, a fresh start and new beginning. I'd changed."
The women all speak of a certain "affinity" among fellow dreadlocks dread-heads. An unspoken recognition of non-conformity. "I think once you actually get talking," says Dodd, "it's a lot more than `hair deep'. It's about freedom of choice, sticking to what you believe in, being an individual and being proud.
"I'm having a little break from dreadlocks at the moment, although I can't say I'm trying to be more respectable because I don't think that's possible," she laughs. "But I do plan to have long grey dreads when I'm an old lady."
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| Last Updated on Saturday, 27 March 2010 20:50 |
