Relax ladies, I'm not igniting the natural hair (black power) or weavalicious (self loathing) stereotypes. As a woman as comfortable in an afro weave as I am short boyish natural hair, I really don’t have much of an opinion where that’s concerned. Today I analyse men and specially the ever growing battalion of (as I call them) ‘Jon B brothers’..
I once went on a date with a man who cited his barber on more occasions than he did his friends and family combined. I’m a big fan of Keesha, as this blog is testimonial to, but I don’t bring my stories of sorrow to bear at the dinner table with a man I barely know – I’ll save that for when we’re married. My date, by contrast saw his barber (who he claimed he could never live too far away from – as though that’s something to be proud of) as a of stamp of credibility; A testament to his ‘being down with it’ (whatever ‘it’ may be). I should have guessed from the sharp shaped hair line, this guy was clearly a regular at the barbershop (think Ice Cube and co), where I imagined him cracking inappropriate jokes , speaking in a dubious accent (certainly not in keeping with his upbringing in Cornwall) and using plural when citing his experiences, presuming they were the same experiences of the black men cutting his hair. He was a typical Jon B brother..
The Jon B brother almost exclusively dates black women,preferably with a natural hair cut, lots of bangles, rocking the mother Africa , salt of the earth look. Think Erykah Badu, before she went nuts for the BIG wig.
The books he recommends are black. Not just written by black authors about universal themes of society, love, relationships, and loss. Books the Jon B brother recommends are almost always about the black struggle. The plight of a first generation immigrant in a white mans land (Sam Seldon the Lonely Londoners is a casing point and a recommendation by a dear Jon B friend of mine) or slavery, or apartheid.
His paintings are black. A collection of hip hop inspired murals and portraits of some of the most obscure jazz musicians of the twentieth century. Indeed he makes it his mission to educate you about jazz.
He serves a roast dinner by candlelight with paintings of John Coltrane adorned on the wall, books by Franz Fanon stacked overtly in the book case (spine and therefore author name and title facing outward) and Malian diva, Oumou Sangare’s dulcet tones undulating from his speakers. His CD collection is the epitome of world music, with West African classic hi life one would expect only the most ardent of African to own. Intentional or not, the books, the music, the conversation all seem to embolden his pride and contrived sense of worldliness and tolerance.
The Jon B brother is front row at the London jazz festival, the African festival at the Barbican, the Malcolm X book reading at the Southbank and the conscious hip hop concert at Brixton Academy (think Talib Kweli and Moss Def rather than 50 Cent and P.Diddy) – All this in between appointments at the barber.
Is it a front? A fraud? A part of the bravado? I can’t help wonder, for all the entertainment the Jon B’s of the world have given me over the years, if you scratch beneath the well tarnished (well versed) veneer you’re bound to find Conservative (with a big ‘C’) suburban, middle England staring straight back at you.
CJ
Ps. A shout out to Dionne and Claire who had me in stitches on the bus as we chatted about the Jon B brothers that have stumbled across our paths. We deduced that seeing as Jon B may only resonate with a woman of a certain age, perhaps Robin Thicke (his protégé) may be a better analogy for the young ones!
2 comments:
is that what you look like or is that a model??
if its you, you write and look fab..
you are my inspiration CJ
xx
That is Robin Thicke and Paula Patton, his wife. (leading actress in that Denzel Washington movie Deja Vu)
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