Perhaps, you missed the memo: Sisters can rock color and do it well! African sisters have known this since the beginning of time. Dyeing fabric in some of the most beautiful colors imaginable.

Myths and stereotypes abound around acceptable colors for Black women. It shows up in our reluctance to wear certain colors in make-up and dress.  This results from generations of color closeted women handing down beliefs that darker hued women can’t, or shouldn’t wear certain shades.

In my household, I was barred from black slacks. My mother felt that black was a color better reserved for women, and not girls. I recall finding the perfect pair of black pants at age twelve. Peter’s clothing, specialized in small sizes starting at zero. At twelve, I was stick thin, and purchased the pants on a Saturday mall run with my bff. Hurt and disappointed, I didn’t understand why my mother blew a gasket when I showed her my super awesome find. The pants were returned the following weekend, for yet another pair of blue jeans.

I would soon learn, that bans were not limited to one color.  In fact, it extended into the rainbow and carries deep-rooted cultural beliefs.

As an adult, I purchased beautiful hand sewn African dresses for my mother and sister from a Senegalese friend. My sister smiled sweetly saying, “I can’t wear those colors, they don’t go well with my skin. They’re too loud.” Again, I was taken aback, not sure where my nuclear family members came up with these crazy fashion rules.

Apparently, there were scores of black women living with self-imposed limitations on color. I’ve heard the conversation too many times to count. I always ask, “Why?”

Cynthia, a thirty nine year-old, self-confident beauty helps families needing shelter.  She is a 5’6” ball of energy. Up and down, all day helping clients, she dresses in comfortable clothing. Cynthia shared with me that she makes a conscious effort to only buy clothes that feel good on her skin.  Interestingly, her wardrobe is full of black and tan. Nothing wrong with netural hues, but why not consider color, I wondered. On a sunny Saturday afternoon, we decided to do get manis and pedis, and give the new African-American shop, which had just opened around the corner from us a try.

I chose a pretty turquoise, having decided that I would honor my love of water, and my desire to one day sell my hand crafted jewelry designs barefoot, on the seashore. The color of blue water and my love of the ocean go hand-in-hand. I suggested to Cynthia that she try out a neon pink, a couple of bottles down from my perfect blue. “Oh no! I don’t do pinks, they don’t go well with my skin.”  I thought to myself,” Oh boy, here we go again.”  I decided to give my friend some heart felt advice. “Cent, you’re beautiful, confident and can actually rock any color, you choose!”

The nail technician, over hearing our conversation agreed. “I’ve been a nail tech for a while, and sisters, seem to have a lot of issues around, color,” She continued speaking while looking over the rows of bottled color. “For some reason we think we have to regulate our color choices to the mundane. We have over sixty shades to choose from on this side of the shop alone. Turn it up!” She said to Cent with a smile.

Cynthia decided to step out her neutral cocoon that day, choosing a beautiful fuchsia. Which, by the way, looked great on her ebony complexion. She was able to push back the voices of her mother and aunts who had always shied away from bright colors. Stepping out of her prison color cell, she found a new level of self-love and acceptance.