Letting go of 'perfect hair'; How to love every stand.

Most of us have heard or used the term “good hair” growing up and even in our adulthood. This term often refers to hair with textures that are looser, silkier, or easier to manage. Hair textures that aren’t kinky or coily. Hair that isn’t all that black.

The term “good hair” is a relic of colonisation and white supremacy. It is an insidious phrase that has been used for generations to divide, diminish, and dictate what kind of Black hair is considered beautiful, acceptable, or worthy of praise. It is a phrase drenched in anti-Blackness, one that has told countless Black children that their tightly coiled, gravity-defying strands are not enough. And yet, it persists.

But, there is no such thing as “good hair.” There is only hair that is healthy, loved, and properly cared for. 

To fully dismantle the harm behind this phrase, we need to dig deeper—into history, into cultural conditioning, and into our own minds.

The idea of “good hair” is not accidental. It was planted during slavery, where lighter skin and looser curls often meant preferential treatment. These Eurocentric beauty standards were reinforced for centuries, making their way into media, social structures, and even our own homes.

By the early 1900s, Black women like Madam C.J. Walker created hair-care products that straightened and “tamed” kinks—not because our natural hair was inherently flawed, but because society made it clear that looser, straighter hair was more acceptable. Mainstream media, from fashion magazines to Hollywood celebrate a singular, narrow vision of beauty—one that excluded tightly coiled, 4C textures.

Fast forward to today, and we still hear the phrase:  “Her hair is so nice and soft—she’s got good hair”, “I wish my hair was more manageable” and quite sadly, “mixed babies have the best hair.”

These statements may seem harmless to some, but they reinforce the belief that Blackness, in its purest form, needs to be softened or diluted to be desirable.

The impact of these ideals runs deep. Texturism — the favouritism toward looser curl patterns — has caused self-esteem issues, generational trauma, and even economic consequences for Black people. Women with tightly coiled textures often feel pressured to relax their hair for job opportunities, while men are sometimes forced to cut their natural styles to be seen as “professional.”

Even within the natural hair movement, which was meant to be a space of freedom, there’s an unspoken hierarchy. Looser curls get the brand deals. The “big chop” is celebrated, but only if the curls that emerge fit a certain aesthetic.

This is why the term “good hair” is not just outdated—it is dangerous. It is a tool of oppression, one that tells Black people that some versions of us are worthy while others are not.

 

So, how do we dismantle this harmful belief?

1. Call out the bias: The next time someone mentions “good hair,” challenge them. Ask them what they mean. Force them to confront the bias behind the phrase.

2. Re-educate yourself and then others: If you’ve ever believed that some textures are better than others, it’s time to unlearn that thinking. Follow creators who celebrate all Black hair, not just the “socially acceptable” versions. Dismantle the indoctrination in your own mind before trying to challenge the next person.

3. Celebrate all hair textures, loudly: Representation matters. Uplift images of tight coils, undefined curls, and natural shrinkage. Make sure the next generation grows up knowing that their hair is enough.

4. Watch your words: Language matters. Replace “good hair” with accurate, empowering language. Your hair is strong. Your hair is so beautiful. Your hair is so versatile. Period.

Our hair has survived centuries of erasure, judgment, and suppression. But it continues to grow. It continues to defy gravity. It continues to exist, boldly, unapologetically, and without permission.

And that is what truly makes it good.

Love, MPL

Your Hair Doctor.