“PONYTAIL”
A reflection on the simple ritual of a ponytail, childhood pride, and the memories we carry with us as we grow.
Story: Elliana Gallagi
It always fascinated me how we have learned to do simple acts.
One of those acts is the ponytail.
I was 6 years old when I first practiced on my American girl doll’s hair— Julie, of course.
Before I was introduced to the YouTube videos and tutorials, the voice of my mom was
all the instruction I needed. I remember it being a bright pink hair tie that guided me through each loop.
It took me about ten minutes to finally be satisfied with the final result.
I ran upstairs to show my older sister my hair hoping she would be just as proud of me
as I was myself. It wasn’t just completing the ponytail that made me filled with joy.
But the idea of doing it for myself was so rewarding.
A feeling that would live inside of me for a very long time.
I showed my sister and she took a picture so I could see what I have created.
Being that young, you’re surrounded by a lot of voices and guidances.
Yet, for the first time I did something for myself, and all I needed was my sister's approval.
I went to school the next day wearing a ponytail, this time with a headband.
My friends were also wearing theirs. Some had theirs loosely tied, some even with a braid, all different but unique to them. As I looked at my friends, I wondered how they, too,
learned how to do their ponytail. Did they run to their sister? Did they watch Youtube videos or tutorials from their favorite creators? Maybe they took the more traditional route of flipping through glossy pages
and following step by step instructions. Whatever it was, it was theirs and is yours as well.
Now, being 21-years old, I still wear my ponytail as I did when I was 6 years old, and I
carry that sensation of pride with me every day. I still have those same hair ties, the same technique, and those same stairs. All of who I was is what made me into who I am today.
Hair can be so complex but when you make it your own, and remember who you were
when you first learned how to make it more than just what lies on your head, it becomes
a part of you, not just an accessory. As you look through the window reflections and side door mirrors, reignite that feeling of joy when you first pulled your hair through each loop.
Where were you when you first learned how to do yours?
One of those acts is the ponytail.
I was 6 years old when I first practiced on my American girl doll’s hair— Julie, of course.
Before I was introduced to the YouTube videos and tutorials, the voice of my mom was
all the instruction I needed. I remember it being a bright pink hair tie that guided me through each loop.
It took me about ten minutes to finally be satisfied with the final result.
I ran upstairs to show my older sister my hair hoping she would be just as proud of me
as I was myself. It wasn’t just completing the ponytail that made me filled with joy.
But the idea of doing it for myself was so rewarding.
A feeling that would live inside of me for a very long time.
I showed my sister and she took a picture so I could see what I have created.
Being that young, you’re surrounded by a lot of voices and guidances.
Yet, for the first time I did something for myself, and all I needed was my sister's approval.
I went to school the next day wearing a ponytail, this time with a headband.
My friends were also wearing theirs. Some had theirs loosely tied, some even with a braid, all different but unique to them. As I looked at my friends, I wondered how they, too,
learned how to do their ponytail. Did they run to their sister? Did they watch Youtube videos or tutorials from their favorite creators? Maybe they took the more traditional route of flipping through glossy pages
and following step by step instructions. Whatever it was, it was theirs and is yours as well.
Now, being 21-years old, I still wear my ponytail as I did when I was 6 years old, and I
carry that sensation of pride with me every day. I still have those same hair ties, the same technique, and those same stairs. All of who I was is what made me into who I am today.
Hair can be so complex but when you make it your own, and remember who you were
when you first learned how to make it more than just what lies on your head, it becomes
a part of you, not just an accessory. As you look through the window reflections and side door mirrors, reignite that feeling of joy when you first pulled your hair through each loop.
Where were you when you first learned how to do yours?