Hair-washing, with 2 edible ingredients.

I have eliminated two more plastic bottles from my bathroom: my shampoo and conditioner. In their place is baking soda and apple cider vinegar.

I became aware of this alternative way to clean your hair when I first started exploring the environmental blog-o-sphere. In all honesty, I thought the people doing this were freaking crazy. Baking soda and vinegar? Really?

As a person who's cried and agonized over the state of her curls her whole life, I was sure this was one experiment I'd never try. I want to help the environment, but not at the expense of turning my hair into a frizzy mass of yuck.

But then I started reading a little more and found out this: sulfates in shampoo make curly hair frizzy. Immediately I went to my bathroom and read the ingredients on my Frizz-Ease Curl Around Daily Shampoo. And there is was. Sodium Laureth Sulfate and Sodium Lauryl Sulfate. I couldn't believe it. My $5/bottle shampoo wasn't easing my frizz, but perpetuating it!

So, more in the name of vanity than the environment, I pulled out two old plastic water bottles and concocted the following:

2 tablespoons baking soda & 2 cups water.
1/4 cup apple cider vinegar & 2 cups water.

Method: Shake up the water bottle with baking soda before use. Coat entire scalp and then scrub vigorously with fingers. Rinse out. Squirt ACV rinse and run your fingers through hair. Let sit for at least a minute before rinsing (I normally put it up in a bun for the rest of the shower and then rinse it out right before turning off the water.)

Yeah, this was a little weird at first. There are no bubbles or dense goo. Applying baking soda to my entire scalp is a little more tricky, as it takes some coordination. The first week I still used my Frizz-Ease conditioner. The Naturally Curly web site told me that conditioner usually has enough mild surfactants to clean hair, so for good measure I still used it after the ACV rinse.

Eventually, I got braver. Every other wash I forewent the conventional conditioner, and when my Frizz-Ease bottle eventually ran out, I didn't buy another one.

After 30 days, my hair looks and feels pretty much as it did when I was using the conventional stuff. It's not greasy. After it dries, it doesn't smell like vinegar. In fact, it really doesn't smell like anything, especially since I've switched to a hair gel that has only a mild fragrance. As far as frizz goes, it's calmed down considerably, even in the oven-like conditions outside.

Now. My hair wasn't magically perfect after giving up the 'poo and conditioner. It felt a little greasier than normal for about a week, but this also has to do with the fact that my experiment with coconut oil as a hair gel went wrong (more on this later). I also had dandruff for a little while, but it wasn't an all-out snowstorm either. Plus, I reasoned that I occasionally had dandruff with regular shampoo too, so this might not have been due to my new hair routine.

Finally, WHY THE HECK AM I DOING THIS?

If you recall in my Why You Should Care About Plastic post, I made a pledge to reduce the new amount of disposable plastic I buy. My empty shampoo and conditioner bottles cannot become part of the garbage patch in the North Pacific Gyre if I do not buy them in the first place.

Second, I've also become extremely concerned about the synthetic chemicals I use daily. According to the Environmental Working Group, "nearly 90% of ingredients used in personal care products have not been evaluated for safety by any publicly accountable institution."

My Frizz-Ease shampoo listed 25 chemicals alone. My conditioner listed 17. That's 42 chemicals. I don't know about you, but I'd rather limit my exposure to synthetic chemicals, especially when I can effectively clean my hair with two chemicals safe enough to eat.

If you want to try it (and I really hope that you do), I'd recommend changing gradually. Start with the one that freaks you out the least. Don't like the idea of baking soda? Try the ACV rinse first. Maybe alternate between the ACV rinse and conditioner for a little bit. Once that isn't a big deal, maybe eliminate the conditioner completely. Etc.

If you do give it a try, I'd be really interested in hearing how it goes. Especially if you're not white, since your hair texture may be different from mine.

Here are other testimonials about the baking soda & ACV rinse.

Slapped in the face by the Liberal Dude friend.

Recently I was called a feminazi.

No, not by an anonymous commenter over the internet. Not by a bonehead frat boy wearing boating shoes and a pastel golfing shirt. Not even by a person who voted for McCain.

I was insulted by a person I call a friend.

And no, I wasn't standing on my soapbox preaching about the evils of the patriarchy. *I* didn't bring up anything related to feminism, actually. (And these things shouldn't warrant name-calling anyway.)

Friend X said, a girl who wears a low-cut shirt deserves to be checked out. In the past I have been guilty of not calling out friends on similar bullshit, but not this time. With an incredulous snort, I said um, no they don't, and what you just suggested is pretty messed up.

Bam. Feminazi.

Dear White Liberal Dude who claims to be my "friend:"

Don't ever fucking call me a feminazi. EVER. Even if I burn my bra right in front of you. Even if I do step up on my soapbox. I have every right to voice my opinion and do not deserve to be stigmatized or dismissed just because you're uncomfortable.

Listen carefully, Liberal Dude. If you make some bullshit claim about women deserving to be objectified, be sure that I'm going to call out your sexist disgusting ass. I'm going to tell you that no person deserves to be degraded, especially based on their clothing choices. A boob shirt is not an invitation to play Patriarchy and cast yourself as the all-powerful Dude gazing upon a subordinate being with breasts. Guess what. She does not exist solely for your sexual pleasure. She does not show her cleavage intent on becoming one of your fantasies. And she sure as hell doesn't deserve it.

And by the way, you do not have the god-given right to deny my agency or mock me. You are a big fucking asshole if you think your misguided assertions are above my opinions, which, by the way, happen to be based on real-life experience and years of feminist thought. You do not have the right to silence me or suggest that I should be ridiculed. If you cannot bear to open your mind or even simply refrain from insulting me, then do yourself a favor and shut the fuck up. Because next time, I won't be so nice. 

Finding an alternative deodorant that WORKS.

Today I confess to something that may cause eye-rolling or flaring nostrils. :::drumroll::: I have replaced my anti-perspirant deodorant with baking soda. Yep.

I can hear my mother now. Baking soda! What! How could you! Don't you smell disgusting and sweat all the time? Don't you WANT to have friends? I think you're taking this environmentalist crap a little too far...

Nope. I've been using it for over a week and haven't run my friends off yet.

These days, I've been much more conscious of what I buy and use. Like many products, deodorants have two main issues: 1) questionable ingredients, and 2) their plastic container.

The unfortunate reality is that the government does not currently require health studies or pre-market testing for [personal care] products before they are sold. The Cosmetics Ingredients Review (CIR), the industry's self-policing safety panel, falls far short of compensating for the lack of FDA oversight. An EWG analysis found that in its 30-year history, the CIR has reviewed the safety of just 13% of the 10,500 ingredients used in personal care products. FDA does no systematic reviews of safety. That means that nearly 90% of ingredients used in personal care products have not been evaluated for safety by any publicly accountable institution. And as people apply an average of 126 unique ingredients on their skin daily, these chemicals are raising concerns, for their potential impacts to human health and to the environment. 

(From Skin Deep, a cosmetic database run by Environmental Working Group. Emphasis mine.)

From a health standpoint, I don't think it's crazy to try and limit the amount of synthetic chemicals I put directly on my skin every day. And since my old deodorant contained aluminum, which has been linked to Alzheimer's disease and breast cancer (the research is not conclusive, however), I began to look for safer alternatives.

And, about the plastic. Most deodorants come in plastic. The implications of this man-made product stretch far beyond taking up landfill space or littering beaches. Read Plastic Oceans if you haven't already, or my blog post on Why You Should Care About Plastic to understand why it's such a big freaking deal.

So...back to that baking soda. I have it in a small dish that I keep in my bathroom. After I shower and dry off, I lean over the sink and rub it in with my fingers. Viola. Deodorized pits with one chemical (which is safe enough to eat).

I have generally been applying baking soda after I shower and/or in the mornings. It is certainly different than antiperspirant, meaning I sweat more under my arms. Interestingly enough, though, my face or other parts of my body do not sweat as much. And even though my armpits are a little wetter when I'm walking around outside in the middle of the afternoon, I'm not sweating at all when I'm not supposed to, like when I'm sitting inside.

And people, I live in the South. It's already June. That means it's almost 90 by noon. My eyeglasses fog from the heat when I get in my car. After it rains, you can almost cut the humidity with a butter knife. And, I do not sweat daintily.

All in all, it feels better. I don't smell. Not even after going to my martial arts class, in which we run around like hooligans for two straight hours in a building that doesn't believe in air-conditioning. It seems that foregoing the antiperspirant has restored the natural state of my sweat glands, which I honestly don't mind. I'd personally rather sweat a little more in my pits than on my face, which causes my glasses to slide down my nose. Also--I wear a lot of black (even in the summer...sigh) and was initially concerned about the baking soda getting all over my shirts. A little comes off when I put on my top, but shaking the fabric once or twice gets it off. And it sure is a lot easier to deal with than my old white deodorant, which seemed to somehow get everywhere.

But, I do recognize my story is anecdotal in nature, and I encourage you to read about other bloggers who have also had success with the baking soda method. One person added corn syrup because her skin felt a little irritated. Another swears by a crystal rock, which is another plastic-free alternative and probably better for you than the synthetic stuff.

By making this switch I am saving many things: money, the amount of chemicals I subject myself to, the irritation of finding out that my scented deodorant clashes with my perfume, the amount of chemicals going down the drain and into the water supply when I take a shower, space in my medicine cabinet, space in my suitcase when I travel, the amount of energy used to create a deodorant stick in the first place, gas used to transport deodorant, and finally, PLASTIC. One less plastic tube I will buy and throw away and buy again. One less container that could end up in the North Pacific Gyre.

I really encourage you to try it. Please let me know how it goes!

"That girl."

Last night, I cried. With all of them staring.

I've been a part of this Brazilian martial arts group for over a year. It's a sport that requires physical strength and natural talent, both of which I lack. For the most part I've come to terms with my spotty athleticism and lukewarm ability to be a strong competitor. I've accepted that I will never be one of those women who performs with graceful aggression, who inspires awe and wonder or even the occasional daaaammn, she's not bad.

But I have not come to terms with being "that girl." You know who I'm talking about. That fragile shy soft-spoken white girl who blushes when her name is called. Who does not emit strength or toughness or anything that implies confidence. Who is not taken seriously and is more likely to hear a patronizing aw, it's okay sweetie, you do your best than a genuine compliment.

And crying in front of them reinforced it even more.

Last night I had been accidentally kicked--twice--by two different people in my capoeira class. The first time, I was hit square in the back by someone who wasn't watching what they were doing. I sat down and held an ice pack and talked back the tears that would've gladly come down if I'd been alone. The second time, someone did a flip and misjudged his landing distance. I stepped back and shielded my face and down he came, thankfully on my arm and not my head.

I didn't even bruise. It wasn't that bad. But I stumbled back, cradling my arm as my eyes, already plagued with shock and fear, began to water. Everyone froze as I slunk toward the bathroom, trying to muster a calm I'm fine! No big deal!, which came out no less than a gasping shrill. I stayed in the bathroom for 10 minutes, trying not to sob uncontrollably.

I cried all the way home and some more in the shower. I cried for a good 45 minutes--into the water stream, into my towel, into my eggs and tea. Because it hurt.

A lot of people in my group like to talk about how capoeira brings out who people really are. That your true colors shine when you are in the roda and almost to the point of absolute exhaustion. And while I do agree that capoeira can serve as a unique physical and emotional release, I cannot accept that this sport elicits my purest form.

Because that would mean I am fear. Doubt. Insecurity and self-loathing. The antithesis of strength.

Though I am afflicted with anxiety and depression and a natural talent at sucking at organized sports, I would also like to think that I am something more than scared tears. That past my nervous smiles and timid disposition, there is courage and spirit. Maybe even enough to inspire a daaaammn, she's not bad.

I've been sitting here for half an hour trying to finish this post. I'd like to end on an encouraging note, but I do not feel encouraged. I'm tempted to believe that writing it out has made me more hopeful, that maybe things will change, whether it be my disposition during capoeira class or the way I view the whole situation. But that would be a lie. All I feel like is "that girl."