Tangles Tackled

"Sit still," I admonish her. She whines and wiggles and emits yelps of pain as I haul my brush repeatedly, heartlessly, through her full mane. 

I finally manage to wrestle it into a semblance of control, twisting the now gleaming yet thick halo into a zaftigeh braid. "Ooooow," she still moans, reaching for her scalp. 

"Don't touch it!" I snap, whacking her hand away before she can mess up my hard work. "Your fault, anyway; you have been obviously not using all those conditioners I bought you. Standard? Deep treatment? Leave-in?" 

She smiles a tad guiltily, and ceases her noisy self-pity. 

That is something along the lines of my hair-dressing interactions with my nieces, but it is simply history repeating itself. As a child, after getting dressed in my offensive polyester uniform, I meekly sat at my mother's vanity and had my hair brushed, ponytailed, braided, and ribboned. 

 

"People talk to you differently when your hair is made," she would say to me, and now, to her granddaughters. "Especially morahs. So stop kvetching; bring me the brush." They sullenly trot off to fetch it.

For those out there with little girls whose hair needs to be manipulated, and there are accompanying waterworks, there is a new tool at hand. 

The New York Times mentioned the Tangle Teezer, a supposedly miraculous brush with malleable bristles that gently eases its way through knotty strands and coaxes them away, as opposed to standard brushes that rip them out of existence. 

When I checked it out on Amazon, I was informed that there are already other options, like The Wet Brush and SHARKK, which have handles that can be gripped. I got The Wet Brush. (I later purchased the SHARKK as well, and the two seem to be equatable).  

The premise is that it calmly detangles gnarly hair, when it is especially so when wet. But I make a point not to brush my hair when wet, since hair is weaker then and more prone to breakage. But no worries, it works divinely on dry hair as well. 

It also claims to be good on wigs—takes the tangle out, not the hair.

When my thick, wavy hair has dried, this brush gently tugs it into civility, without a squeak from me. I experimented it on my niece who had just gotten out of the pool—apparently she screeches bloody murder every night when her hair is brushed out of the bath—and she boomed, "This is my favorite brush!" 

Needless to say, I have purchased these for all the little lasses.