Our Story &
Our Commitment
to Curly Hair

When I was going to kindergarten, my curly hair was a problem. Especially when your mother cuts your hair like a boy because she has neither the desire nor the time to untangle it every day and make braids, ponytails, and various others.

Until puberty, most believed that my parents were raising two boys, one of whom was slightly chubby. In puberty, the chubby girl remained chubby but evolved into a girl.

I had to brush it every day with mania. The more I brushed it, the angrier, wilder, and thicker it became like a dense bush on my head. In a fit of enthusiasm, my mother would put a hairpin on the side, adding nothing, just for flair!

Back in the '80s, I got my first hairdryer. With that blower type in one hand and a small round brush in the other, like another Hercules, I tried, in vain, to tame the Lernaean Hydra. Endless hours for a battle lost in the first 10 minutes outside the house because life on an island means humidity, and humidity is not at all friendly to any kind of hair, especially curly.

My mother, who also had curly hair, was a staunch anti-curly. Going out unbrushed or attending a formal event without straightening it was a disgrace and had the same penalties as law 4000 regarding tomboyism.

The haircut with the short sides whispered past my ear, and a glance, then a look from mom, 1,000 words, was enough for me to grab my hairdryer and brush.

In the early '90s, now a student, I made my first attempts, as long as no one was watching, to leave it curly and grow it long. However, my parents, especially my mother, had won. I never managed to grow my hair long. I always believed that to be presentable, it had to be neat and not bushy, also styled and not tangled, as if there were an invisible hair police watching me.

Many years passed with failed straightening attempts, many, many brushes, endless scissors, failed haircuts with uneven ends, curly in the back, straightened in the front, new hairdryers with more and more watts, so powerful that the brushes burned after a while, my fingers, my whole being. Those who know, know!

Now grown up, with children, the internet came, online shopping. I found the usefulness of lower, I started searching, reading, buying products from abroad. I learned to make hair gel from flaxseed. I became a member of a community where the majority were women of color. I did what others did, sometimes successfully and sometimes not.

However, the times when something worked, I was enchanted by the curls. They filled me with joy; I felt freer. I wished to be a teenager again to let it grow long and enjoy the gift that nature had given me.

Curly hair stopped being a problem. I had the problems of adults now.

Now I don't have brushes, I rarely use combs. I don't care if it's humid, if it gets bushy. I know that there are some haircuts I will never do, but I don't care because curly hair is freedom, it's play, and I love it.

So with many words, I decided that my last job before retirement should be chosen by me and not by it. It should be something I know well and love very much.

I am very happy and proud to present my first products for curly hair. I am here to help you love it and showcase your uniqueness.