Wash Day is more than a task; it’s a gem for generational growth within the natural hair community.
Image Source: @tomeshafaxio
Like most creatives, Tomesha Faxio’s journey wasn’t linear. In 2014, the lawyer-turned-author started questioning her career before becoming a photographer and documentarian. She started soul-searching when she studied advertising, art direction, and copywriting at the Creative Circus from the pressures of feeling undervalued at her law firm coupled with not being passionate as an attorney. Though she didn’t finish the program, Faxio realized she had a creative spirit.
After working for Spankx, she wanted to ideate instead of evaluate executed plans. Still, photography sparked her interest when she made a documentary on her phone. Faxio’s “creative itch” blossomed when a friend gifted her a Canon camera after she confessed her interest in photography. A few years later, Faxio decided to pursue photography full-time.
Like many individuals, the mother of two was affected by the pandemic and questioned her next moment within her artistry. The true storyteller and hair lover, Faxio was drawn to reimagining stories where Black beauty is the focus. She chatted with NaturallyCurly to discuss her book, “Wash Day,” an ode to implementing healthy hair care rituals within the natural hair space.
What sparked the idea for this book?
The idea started before the pandemic hit. When I started taking pictures, I knew there would be a business and art component because of my love for storytelling and enjoying emotions and conversations people can have with a photograph. I decided to do a personal project, but I wasn’t sure what it was. In the fall of 2019 to early 2020, I was working on an idea. Now, I look back and see I love hair. When I was taking pictures of clients, I was really drawn to their hair, and I admit that it sounded weird.
I would tell people to ‘fluff your hair out or touch your hair’ in the images. I thought about it more as a Black woman with two Black daughters. With a history of natural hair discrimination and texturism, I knew I wanted to do something that showcased the inherent beauty of our hair. My kids grew up around many natural-haired women, but they struggled— even in kindergarten. My daughter was like ‘I want my hair to lay straight.’ It suddenly clicked to me that understanding comes from what they see.
I knew I didn’t want to do portraits…and considered, ‘How do I showcase our hair as is but in a way that tells a different story.’ I was looking at an image of a Black woman sitting on the couch. You know, this is probably one of those pictures that everybody has in a photo album of a Black woman sitting on the couch, and then her daughter is sitting between her legs, and she’s doing her hair. I was like, ‘This is something. There’s your storytelling. Here is hair being showcased what it looks like on its own, and this generational story.’
I was having a wash day with my daughters, and at that moment, it was clear that’s how I wanted to showcase our hair.
How did you find the subjects in your book? What makes them so special, especially capturing these hair moments?
My editor and I had conversations about this. I wondered if I wanted to include influencers who are known in that space, but that wasn’t as important as telling the story that was common for us. It wasn’t until the fall of 2020 I decided to start shooting. I reached out to women who I knew would feel comfortable having me come to their homes. From there, it became women that I knew or friends of friends or relatives of friends because there’s a trust factor. They needed to trust me coming into their home with their children, and I needed to know that I would be alive the next day if I went to your house [laughs.]
There were no complete strangers in the photographs. I knew we thought about doing an open call at one point, but this is in the pandemic era. Honestly, I do not take it for granted that so many people trusted me to come into their homes with a camera. I know that that’s not something people do every day.
Would you say it was more community-based?
For sure. I could do several iterations and shoot “Washday” forever because so many families wanted to be a part of this. There was a lot of bonding between me and the other families. There was such a community aspect to this book. I am so grateful.
Usually, “Wash Day” for textured hair is presented as tedious and stressful, especially for coiler hair types. With the few images I’ve seen, what made you show this book as a form of self-care?
I love that you saw that! That is one of the concepts I wanted to come out of this book. As I was taking these photos, I saw images of kids crying and moms comforting their children. I noticed this desire to depart from “beauty is pain,” like suck it up and deal with it mentality a lot of us grew up with and replacing it with self-care. For instance, there’s Stacia in the book; she had a “shampoo buddy,” It’s this great contraption that you sit on the edge of the sink, and the little girl had her iPad on her chest and a bowl of crackers. It was different from what I remember.
One of the things I write about is during enslavement; it wasn’t like they gave slaves time to care for their hair. They weren’t given tools to do their hair or haircare products. “Wash day” is a way to reclaim our time, reclaim that self-care we lost—but teach our kids how to care for their hair.
Our hair has been traditionally considered hard to maintain time, but it’s only because it’s in comparison to straight hair or looser textures. We live in a culture not built around our hair texture.
Is “Wash Day” a generational journey?
Many of us who grew up getting our hair straightened experienced the second wave of the natural hair movement and left relaxers behind. We’re not relaxing our children’s hair. There was this shift from our generation to the next generation. After using relaxers, many of us had to learn how to do our natural hair for the first time and how to love or at least tolerate it. That’s the whole point behind the book— moms passing that legacy on to their children.
Though the Crown Act was passed in Kentucky and the other 22 states, in a perfect nondiscriminatory world, what message would you like to present regarding natural Black hair, especially through your book?
I love people to see themselves and the beauty of their hair texture. The book has a series of essays about texturism, respectability, microaggressions, [and] the context around why anti-black attitudes exist. I hope this book educates us to gain more freedom and feel confident about wearing it in any texture.
I think there’s still a lot of work to be done on accepting tighter textures and not feeling like your texture has to be a certain way for it to be beautiful. There’s a spectrum of different textures that should be equally acceptable.
You said, “Wash Day is when we can be intentional about reminding our children that their coils are worthy of the extra care and maintenance we give them.” With that being said, how do you connect curly and coily hair with confidence and mental health?
My daughter has 4C hair. She’s very confident in her hair when it is blown out. One of the goals is to show the hair as it is in its state. You know, after it’s been washed, this is what it looks like and showing those images as beautiful. I was blessed to be able to showcase these pieces in art exhibits.
One of the most beautiful moments was the image of this little girl’s hair on a gallery wall. This little girl walks in and sees her photo. You can see the level of pride in her eyes from that, and I have heard stories from other kids who are literally seeing themselves and then this sense of joy like ‘Wow, this hair is in a book.” I think that that goes a long way.
I assumed my hair was bad and problematic, so I had to get a relaxer right. Kids now see images of hair that look like theirs and are presented as beautiful, and I think that shifts the way that you view yourself. I talked to a lot of moms who are intentional about making sure that when they’re doing their kids’ hair, they’re not making negative remarks. These moms, myself included, make a lot of effort with my kids.
Wash days are usually associated with mothers and daughters. What advice would you give to readers who are either new mothers, fathers, or family members who want to make wash days a safe space for children?
I do have mothers and sons in the book. We were talking more about including all sorts of other family dynamics, but when it came down to it, I wanted to tell it from the mother-child perspective.
I think that there’s so much value in fathers, grandparents, or whoever reassuring their children about how beautiful they are. I don’t think that that has to come from a specific place. It’s really helpful coming from a community of people because there’s a disconnect between what is considered acceptable with regard to hair. My grandmother grew up in a very different time.
When she went to cosmetology school, they didn’t teach you how to do anything other than straighten natural hair. You weren’t taught how to care for it. When she was growing up, her hair was considered bad hair. She and several of her siblings would have to get their hair pressed weekly, while the “good-haired” siblings didn’t.
Looking through my book, she’s like, ‘ I love seeing all this natural hair. This is so beautiful.’ But you can tell that she was commenting on different hair textures. The elders say things just based on what they’ve been taught for decades.
When the community is able to gather around these kids and all affirm the beauty of their hair, there aren’t these contradictory messages that are beneficial.
What wash day essentials do you incorporate into your routine and your children’s?
One of the biggest techniques that I took away from this project was braiding or twisting my kids’ hair before I washed it. It’s a Game-Changer. I also use shampoo to detangle their hair. You’re getting a first wash out of detangling it and putting it into twists or braids.
One of the products that I learned about during this process is The Doux. That foam detangles and conditions. When I use that product, it cuts down time. I was not good at wash day, and I know that because of these moms. This experience allowed me to learn from them like I learned from other Black women during the natural hair movement. I love Taliah Waajid and Mielle Organics—those are the two I use consistently.
What legacy did you want to convey when documenting “Wash Day?”
[We’re] really reclaiming wash day as self-care and leaving behind a beautiful part of our culture. There’s something community-centered about our haircare rituals, but we’re claiming that time and self-care and [taking] a bit of the sting out of what wash day has become—laborious.
When I started this project, I started looking at “Wash Day” as an opportunity to pour into my kids. It changed the way that I approach it. Rather than, ‘I just need one more week.’ It’d be like, ‘I’m feeling excited about doing it.’ We can watch their favorite show, talk, and listen while I’m reminding them their hair is beautiful.
Though Faxio showcased natural hair routines passed down from generations, she’s not done. She intends to document “Wash Day” in a film and highlight coily hair types while focusing on texturism, an anti-black rhetoric that challenges the natural hair community. The storyteller conceptualizes freedom and healing in her work.
