Novel & Cerita Bantu Knots Hairstyle

He was still shocked at it all but honestly I had something else in mind. She's gonna have to get that hair in a bun cause it's whipping has gotten too much. Way too much.

I'm going as me to this party so no headdress or colour contact lenses tonight, so I needed a dress colour that wouldn't clash with my green eyes. I finish drying my hair as Trish enters to help me tie it back. We decided to put it up in an elongated bun tonight, so all the strands are pulled high and wound over themselves until they are in a tight ball. Then it is pinned at strategic points to fix it to the back of my head.

The day that changed my life. •°♡°• Pulling the large hoodie over my head, I quickly run a brush through my hair before pulling it into a messy bun atop my head. My raven black locks were a mess to deal with, as the curls always made it hard to style. I decided long ago that a messy bun is the only style I could muster, being either too busy or too lazy to deal with my hair.

Chapter 66 - Under The Unknown Royal Bloods Antheia’s POV I stepped into my yellow floral dress that flowed down to just above my ankle and sat in front of the mirror to blow dry my hair before putting it in a french braid. I can never go wrong with braids, it is the most convenient style to tie my hair tightly without worrying of getting it loose anytime and losing my hair into a wild mess. Ponytail is good too but it only holds the hair in a single strap, once you lose your elastic band or the tightness of it, your hair could easily get messy. At least for braids, your hair is tightly secured in multiple knots.

“You like it?” “It’s gorgeous.” She had taken my hair and pulled the back up into a high ponytail then covered it with curls so you couldn’t tell it was in a ponytail at all. Then she left long ringlets down my back, with some long bangs in the front. The sides were held up with a silver clip that matched my shoes.

Reign said but I just couldn’t get the image of them using their weapons and then putting them back into their hair blood and all. After about an hour of preening my hair and taming the wild locks, I was shocked they somehow turned my wild and uncontrollable curly black locks into a shiny and straight-shoulder shiny look. My hair was pulled back into a low pony that sat off of my right shoulder with the knot twisted with an extension of my hair. She had somehow taken a small section of hair and braided it back to look like a crown over the top of my head. Over the left portion above my left ear was a woven silver chain that started in a cusp that wove around the braid and down into the knot

I told the make-up artist what I wanted and she smiled at me to quickly take a before picture. Some twenty minutes later, Falmata had returned to the room in a full Kanuri attire, a grape colored plenty yard material that crossed between being crepe and polyester. She looked absolutely beautiful in it, she turned in front of me with a flourish as the make-up artist tied the remaining teal lace used to make my dress into a headtie. Falmata asked me with a bend of her hips and a wide smile how she looked. I nodded with a thumbs up and she went off to disturb her brothers to pose quickly before Baaba arrives. Just as we siblings took our last picture, the door opened and Baaba appeared in a cob

I secure my black leather Apple Watch around my wrist, its sleek band wrapping snugly, a subtle nod to both functionality and fashion. My hair, a deep chestnut brown, is cropped close at the sides, adding a sharp contrast to the textured layers that crown the top of my head. Despite the deliberate styling, a few rebellious bangs persistently brush across my forehead, softening the angles of my face and adding a touch of youthful nonchalance to my otherwise meticulously assembled appearance.

she whispered the last part conspiratorially as though her father was in the vicinity and was in danger of hearing. Everest was still pondering over the revelation when she threaded the second and last glass bead into the front braids. She cracked her knuckles and examined her handiwork, an inward complacence infusing her chest. She had parted the hair in curly zigzag lines and made cornrows. Zigzag cornrows. The last rows on either side of her head had been braided backwards — to the front — so that they hung down either side of her face to her chest and glittered with the big, transparent grass-green beads that hung down them.

"He's going to be drooling when he sees you, babe, I swear. I like what you did to your hair too, it's pretty." I run my hand over my braided hair and smile. Being black comes with many beautiful advantages. One of them is our natural, rich, thick hair. I went to the saloon and styled them into four big braids, two small ones in between the big ones at the front so it falls on my face, right on top of the two bridges of nose. I use some of my hair accessories to decorate the hair and stare at myself in the mirror once more. "Do you think it's too much?" My anxiety creeps in. My smile turns into a frown, my lips puckering as I stared at myself again. Janelle scoffs behind me.