Going For Dope

How comedian PHOEBE ROBINSON went from a self-conscious kid to a fearless beauty chameleon

- Samantha Simon

When I think of a beauty chameleon, I think of someone like Madonna or Rihanna. I certainly don’t think of myself. I’m a comedian, so I’m never like, “I feel like a beautiful babe!” It’s like, “What? Stop it. You’re a joke!”

As a kid, I felt a lot of pressure for my hair to look perfect. I would see women like Tyra Banks, Halle Berry, Naomi Campbell, Erykah Badu, and Lisa Bonet and think, “I wish I looked like you guys.” In the black community, you’re so heavily judged on your hair always looking on point. So when I was growing up in the Midwest, my mom and I would go to the salon about every six weeks to get our hair permed or relaxed. It was tradition, and when we got there every other black lady in the community was there getting her hair done too. They would put this really creamy substance—which we called creamy crack—on your hair. If you left it on for too long, you’d be in a lot of pain. After it was rinsed out, it would keep your hair straight. My mom paid so much money for it that I knew I couldn’t mess it up. I literally kept an umbrella with me at all times in case it rained. I was always running in the rain. I tried not to sweat too much, and I wore a sleeping cap to bed. Between trips to the salon, I’d wash my hair, and my mom would use a hot comb to straighten my edges. I had bangs then, and they were not cute. Every night I’d put a roller in my hair to get that perfect bang curl. It looked like a mess.