It's a Curl Thing

These girlfriends get through bad hair days together -- and anything else that life in L.A. throws at them!

When Hollywood princess Divine Matthews-Hardison left the fast lane behind, the one thing she missed was her friends back home in Los Angeles! Now, get to know one of Divine's best gal pals....

Rhyann Hamilton could not be more jazzed for her sophomore prom. The big event is one day away, and getting prepped is a family affair: thanks more >>

These girlfriends get through bad hair days together -- and anything else that life in L.A. throws at them!

When Hollywood princess Divine Matthews-Hardison left the fast lane behind, the one thing she missed was her friends back home in Los Angeles! Now, get to know one of Divine's best gal pals....

Rhyann Hamilton could not be more jazzed for her sophomore prom. The big event is one day away, and getting prepped is a family affair: thanks to her aunt's designing magic, she's got a dreamy Valentino look-alike gown, and her sister Tameka's doing her hair. But something goes terribly wrong -- and Rhyann's hair color is a total disaster! An emergency trip to a luxury salon saves the day, but how will Rhyann pay for the high-priced appointment? Thanks to the kindhearted owner, working at the salon becomes more than just a way to pay a debt -- for Rhyann is about to discover how beautiful things can happen when your heart is open, and how one bad hair day can be a blessing in disguise.

May 2nd

I'll be leaving to get my hair cut and colored for the big day tomorrow as soon as I finish typing in this entry. My day wasn't great or anything -- just okay. I'm glad we had a half day at school, because I still have a lot of stuff left to do before sophomore prom. I can't believe it! I'm going to my first prom!

My aunt designed my dress. Well, maybe she didn't exactly design it -- it's her version of a Valentino knockoff. Although I go to the prestigious Stony Hills Preparatory School in Pacific Palisades, we don't have benjamins like that. I attend the school on scholarship, and I'm perfectly okay with that. All I want is the end result -- a good education so that I can get into a good college.

Okay, I have to end for now. It's time for me to go to my sister's house. She's doing my hair for me as a gift. I'll upload a picture later.

I log off my online journal and shut down my computer while humming to Alicia Keys's new single.

"I'm on my way to Tameka's," I yell as I rush toward the living room, my footsteps thundering across the hardwood floor. My aunt's in the tiny laundry room near the back of the house but acknowledges she heard me by responding, "Okay..." Then she adds, "Rhyann, I have to take Phillip to track practice, so I won't be here when you get back."

I grab my hair magazines and zip out the front door.

My sister lives two blocks from our house. Just two blocks in the other direction is the Jungle, where gun deaths are nearly a daily event. My B.F.F.'s Mimi and Divine used to be afraid to come anywhere near here. I used to have to meet up with them at the Baldwin Hills Crenshaw Plaza, but now that Mimi is driving and has her own car, she doesn't mind coming to pick me up. I've told her which streets to take and stuff so that she's not caught in the middle of gang violence.

We don't even go to the grocery store that's right down the street. My aunt would rather go all the way across town. Bullets don't know any names, she says. A stray bullet killed my uncle when he was coming home from work. He made it to the house only to die in her arms. This happened a few months before my mom died.

"Tameka, girl...you gotta hook me up." I hurry through the front door of her apartment with my arms clutching the magazines that are my lifeline to a diva hairstyle. "Do me right because I gotta be fierce when I step up in the prom tomorrow night."

I make myself comfortable on the red leather sofa in my sister's living room, then lean forward to spread the magazines on her glass-op coffee table. Tameka's twenty-one years old and has had her own place for a year now. She keeps it nice and clean -- more than she ever did when we shared a room. She used to be such a slob.

"Come help me find the perfect hairstyle," I say to her. "My dress is strapless, and I'm wearing this really cut << less