Shea Moisture: Cancelled

Lauren Anderson
7 min readDec 11, 2017

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Natural-hair brand Shea Moisture, was in the media last week for posting a problematic commercial that was deemed tone-deaf from many on Twitter and Facebook. The commercial was created with the intention to tell people to “break free from hair hate,” by featuring a racially ambiguous woman with long, curly hair and two white women with red and blonde hair. They told their sob stories of finding paper balls in their hair, feeling pressured to dye their red hair blonde, and not knowing what to do with blonde hair in the morning. This commercial did not sit well with women of color that use the brand, originally intended for black hair, for a multitude of reasons. The commercial did not just give black women a reason to pull the race card, but opened conversation regarding the injustices that happen in school, work, and everyday life while wearing natural hair. This ad led to questions like; why is Shea Moisture trying to appeal to white consumers? Why are white women disrupting predominantly black spaces? How does the lack of representation of a certain natural hair texture in the media contribute to us remaining unprogressive? Why are people so uncomfortable talking about natural hair? Including black women?

Some history on Shea Moisture will add context to the anger black women posted online. The brand started after the founder and CEO, Richelieu Dennis, began selling his grandmother’s shea butters, salves, and soap recipes to a community that was ignored by mainstream media. The black-owned company has angered their consumers online several times because they “whitewash” their ads. In 2015, they tweeted ads that included stock photos of white children. That same year, they were accused of watering down their products to attract those with hair that could not handle heavy products (read: white women.) Carol’s Daughter is another brand that is whitewashing ads to reach new consumers. Two weeks before the Shea Moisture commercial aired, I found a thread on Twitter from Raquel Savage, as she wrote about being a model at a hair expo for Carol’s Daughter. Savage wrote that the booth diluted blackness as they had multiple light-skinned racially ambiguous women and white women at the Shea Moisture and Carol’s Daughter booth. At the SM booth, she was told that it is not a “black” company but a multicultural one and further confirmed the allegations that brands are watering down their products to appease white consumers.

SM’s CEO responded to the backlash with “This was not executed the way we intended, we are being clear that in order or us to stay relevant, we have to grow. We will continue to serve the needs and hair types with black women at the core of these needs and services. You cannot erase 27 years of service because of one slip-up or Facebook post.” Staying relevant and growing means answering to your corporate leaders as L’Oreal purchased Carol’s Daughter and Bain Capitol is a minority investor in Shea Moisture. These ownerships and investments in black companies leave their original customers wondering if their needs with be forgotten while the company grows. To be clear, reaching other audiences and remaining inclusive is fine. This is not black women getting mad at white people for using products, as the comment section in The Blaze would allege. This is black women reacting to having their politicized struggles grouped with their white counterparts.

Media representation of natural, black hair had been monolithic as lighter girls with big, long, curly hair were the image behind the term natural. Recently, natural hair has taken a turn as more black women with thicker, more nappy hair are redefining what it means to have beautiful, natural hair. Celebrities like Viola Davis, Lupita Nyong’o, Solange, Janelle Monae, and Gabrielle Union are taking advantage of their platform and embracing natural hair. Models in the Victoria’s Secret fashion show are using their platform to embrace their naturally kinky hair in a space where long, bouncy, voluminous curls are synonymous with beauty. Maria Borges wore her hair in an afro in the 2016 Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show.

When reading the comment sections of some publications online, readers were pointing out the black woman in the commercial and that people were looking for a reason to be mad at white people. Colorism is so prominent in mainstream media, black media, and everyday lives, that whenever someone speaks out about it, they’re labeled haters. I’m not saying that light-skinned girls do not experience injustices in their everyday life, but what are the odds that someone growing up with fair skin and a head full of defined curls experience bullying because of their hair? I’m not buying it. For many who watched the commercial, seeing a privileged black girl share her hair-hate story was incredibly insulting and unprogressive. The lack of representation of women with higher hair grades and darker skin tones in the Hollywood contribute to colorism and self-hate for black girls. When people ridiculed Blue Ivy for wearing her 4C hair, but praised North West for her mixed girl hair is a prime example. The idea that one girl who is closely related to whiteness is more valuable than the other.

Why is loose curly hair better than kinky, coily, nappy hair? Why are people so uncomfortable talking about textured hair? History and representation. For a while loose, curly hair was synonymous with natural hair and if you had kinky, coily hair that shrunk, you were labeled bald-headed. A triggering term that was heavily associated with dark-skinned black girls with 4 grade hair. What people do not know is that 4 grade hair is susceptible to immense shrinkage when coming into contact with water. Or when wet, hair will absorb moisture, curl up and hide up to 90% of actual length or “shrinks.” This happens the most in 4C hair textures and is often the most hated texture to have because of its low porosity and is constantly dry and tangled. These elements will make it appear like it doesn’t grow, but the tight coils retain all the length and gives the illusion that the hair is short. Becoming more comfortable with that hair texture is detrimental to the improving the way 4C girls view their hair. Representation in the media made me love mine (although I still hide it,) as celebrities and public figures began using their platform to encourage people and start movements like #BlackGirlMagic.

The erasure of black girls in ads to many seems like an overreaction, but looking historically at the experiences dark-skinned black women had to go through and are still facing currently adds context. During the antebellum period, dark-skinned women were kept outside in the field while light-skinned women stayed inside. Now, post-antebellum, light-skinned, racially ambiguous women are on the cover of bleaching creams in black communities and the standard for natural hair. For white counterparts, your struggles are not the same as black women because of the society that we live in, where white is the standard. For everything. Disrupting predominantly black spaces to align your insecurities on the same spectrum is unacceptable. Watching that commercial and seeing those women say they have bad hair days and are uncomfortable with the color made me think of how black women are trained to hate their hair from birth. Imagine being a pregnant black woman and hearing people wish you have a boy so that you don’t have to worry about doing a girl’s hair. Imagine being a black girl with natural hair or locs (dreadlocks,) and get discriminated against in the work place, in the military(rolled back), at school and in your household. Imagine breaking societal norms by getting twists, braids or faux locs, get labeled “ghetto” or “ratchet”, and then see white girls do it, they get label “cool,” “edgy,” or “trendy.” Imagine being asked “can I touch your hair?” and being objectified or there to be seen as black women were in the antebellum period. This is absolutely, completely about race. White hair struggles do exist, but it seems as if they are indifferent to anything outside of their realm of insecurities.

The Shea Moisture commercial succeeded in the generating conversations on hair and race and allowing the natural hair community a chance to explore other options. After SM got “cancelled” on Twitter, people began making threads of other natural hair brands like As I Am, Eden, Curls, Mizani, and Miss Jessie’s. This erasure of 27 years of service to black hair derived from them negating historical black hair struggles and promoting white hair struggles. This could have been avoided if they executed their commercials properly and perhaps had a black girl on their marketing team. As for white women who align their struggles with black ones or write think pieces on black bodies about experiences they do not understand, stop. Claire Fallonfrom the Huffington Post writes that “it’s too easy to let white, straight women who mostly adhere to society’s norms of feminine beauty dominate this discussion [of hair struggles] at the expense of other narratives.”

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