I cannot French braid my hair. It is probably one of the most challenging things I have ever done. It's not even that the concept is hard or that I don't know how -- I know exactly what I'm supposed to do. I know all the steps, and yet...no French braid for me.
I have always had long hair. I love my long hair. One of my favorite things about long hair is how much you can do with it. From braids to buns, ponytails to curls, there is just so much you can do to change your hair up. My personal favorite is braids, even though I don't wear them out and about often. I like to think of myself as a sort of Pokemon trainer for hair, like, once you grasp one kind of braid you can level up that braid into a more difficult variation. That's basically how I see the transition from regular three-strand braids to French braids. I can do regular braids (three strands), four-strand braids, five-strand braids, even fishtail braids! But I just can't seem to grasp how to do a French braid. I've seen tons of tutorials, watched my friends do it on their own hair, and practiced it myself multiple times. I know how to do It. I understand the concepts and the procedure, but no matter how I try to do it, whether straight back or on one side of my head or the other, I can't seem to accomplish anything resembling a French braid.
I feel as though every attempt I make results in a new form of modern art. Perhaps I should consider a major change. Do art teachers give credit for unique mediums? I could become famous for abstract hair pieces. Oh, look, this head of hair may look similar to a rat's nest with tons of knots, but it's actually remarkable symbolism of the hidden depths of the student's soul hidden by the distracting outer chaos of attempted perfection. Oh, are you looking at that one there with what appears to be a pencil sticking out of it? I'm not sure if that one has a symbolic meaning; it may have been finals week.
I suppose that now at least with winter here and the snow falling, I can offer my newest masterpiece as a shelter for small creatures in the cold weather. I could get an award for helping the local small animals and birds by providing the comforts of a warm and mobile home high above the reach of predators that may be prowling about looking for easy prey. Or I could go the entrepreneurial route and make the small creatures pay rent for the new eco-friendly RV inspired housing.
On the other hand, maybe during one of these tries I'll find the face of some famous person in the woven disaster of my hair and charge admission for people to gaze upon it for a full 15 seconds (I'm reasonable, after all). Or I could sell a picture of it, or even one of the strands of hair that had the honor of making up a part of the chin of the face.
The possibilities are endless for an opportunist with disastrous braiding fails.
"Why don't you give up if French braiding your hair is so hard?" many ask.
"Because I will collect them all, and become a braiding master," I tell them all.
