Braids are fun to make, in anything and everything. Your hair, a string, a rope.
Anything.
Braiding things can take your mind off of things.
do it.
All the time.
It’s fun.
(: Trust me.
It’s like crocheting or knitting for some people.
it’s like the grape vine. A dance step. My fellow co teachers didn’t understand why it was called a grape vine…because you weave your legs and feet …like a braid. I get an ache in my arm when I braid my hair. I used to do it much more often when I was a ballerina, to spice things up. Now I just braid it to add waves…like venice beach down the street.
I’m only reminded of my jealousy of her braid as it flows down her back, whipping behind her as she walks down the hall. Hair so beautiful, she has it all.
I have never braided my hair before in my life. When I see girls with braids in their hair, I just want to grab those braids and drag the girl towards me. I want to rip those braids off and eat them, just eat it a little bit. Then give her a nice steak dinner and let her on her way. Yeah.
I pulled her close, I breathed in her hair that was twisted into a braid, it smelled of strawberries. As we stood there, her in my arms. I knew we would be like this forever. And this is how it should be. Forever.
I put my hair into two braids today because I went to a country themed party. I thought it fit. Any other time that I put my hair in two braids, I take it out because it looks all country like I’m about to go milk some cows. And this time, I was. It had been a while. But I think it looked cute. Especially because my hair is so long now. Almost to the middle of my back. Yay.
I always braid my hair right before bed. It’s become a ritual: my mother used to do it when I was small, all the time. She’d do it before I went to bed, before we started cooking gingerbread at Christmas, before I washed my face… now that I’m alone I still do it for the familiarity.
Hair.
Braiding is something I can’t do.
I like french braids.
I wear my hair in braids sometimes.
Where did the braid originate?
Who decided to place three sections of hair and cross them in such and aesthetically pleasing pattern?
I wish my hair weren’t in layers so I could braid it easily.
She had her hair down her back, in a long braid. It was so long that it almost reached her waist. It shimmered like gold under the sun. He couldn’t help but notice how it swayed when she walked. He thought to himself that she might be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
Her thick, ebony hair was plaited into a long, even braid, reminding him of the tradition of long ago. The younger girls in the tribe had given up their tradition, fastening their woolen hair with striped bandanas. She — that beautiful, womanly, she — swung her braid as she danced to the rhythm of the drum.
The braid hangs down the back of my neck. It is itchy. I wish it were red like Pippy Longstaockings. Braids that stick stick straight out like antenae on a crazy caterpiller.
She always looked prettiest in braids, though you’ve never told her. Her eyes seems to burn with wild intensity when she did. Like she was ready to take on the evil and badness of the world. She was always braver than you.
It’s all she wore. All her tied into one simple little braid. I couldn’t help but smile every time I saw her with it because it was like her signature, something she took pride in. And goodness, she looked beautiful every time she had her hair like that.
I think pig tails are the cutest thing, two braids are better than one.
It connects, running your fingers through one’s hair, working through the knots, an intimate bond between braider and braidee.
we made crowns from wild grass and baby’s breath
with round, not yet calloused fingers-
slip-knotting ends into braids atop our
windswept hair.
and it wasn’t such a surprise when they
fell
apart,
scattering faded flowers
across the
dirt floor.
The wires were braided tightly together but each individual strand began to snap with an awful sound that reminded me of trains smashing and birds dropping. The bridge was collapsing and I couldn’t get there fast enough.
I stood looking into the bathroom mirror focusing on the braid that I was attempting to put in my hair. The problem was I couldnt focus on the braid because he was standing right behind me with his arms circling my waist. My eyes kept straying to his, filled with love and desire. All I could think of were his muscular arms wrapped around my small waist slowly drawing circles into my skin. Every touch sent a shock through my body, my nerves went crazy, and I forgot about the braid, and turned around on my tiptoes. I reached up and gave him the kiss I’ve been wanting to share for the longest time…
Her braid hung down over my desk, light brown and only just twisted – not tight enough to covey a over-thought. Just enough to show the breadth of her being.
My arms always lose circulation when I braid my hair, so I don’t. But, having a cute braid is, was an identifiable item that I longed for in school. I have curly hair, so of course, they never laid exactly straight and also, my arms always lost circulation.
The braid hung long and straight down her back. Her olive skin was beautiful and her tall, angular body was accentuated by the boots she wore against her skin tight jeans.
A braid is a twisted pattern. You could simply do it with hair, ribbons, string, yarn, anything that are in long strands. You simply make a pattern of the item (whatever it is, whether it be string, hair or what not) and you divide it into 3 sections, and simply cross them over one by one in the same pattern over and over again to result in a long piece of the material in a crossed “braided” pattern.
I braid my hair all the time! Well..I used to braid it all the time..before I cut it I mean. But noooo my hair’s short now because i “donated” it. I say donated in quotation marks, because I still haven’t mailed my 10 inches of hair to the cancer place yet.
i loved her hair best when it was in braids. i could never explain why. they looked goofy on the other girls, but she really made it work. i wanted to grab her and kiss her, but i never did.
I never had a braid. I’m a guy. Obviously I never had a braid. If I grew my hair out long, maybe then I’d have a braid. But no braids for me. I did have my hair long, once, way back when. It didn’t look good, in my opinion. It wasn’t long enough to braid, but most definitely long enough to tie in a rubberband. Believe it or not, my hair is now short…very, very short.
I braid my hair when i’m bored. Well….I used to before i got it cut and “donated it.” My 10 inches of braided hair are in a bag on top of my desk waiting to be mailed to the wig place as it has been for the past few weeks. Damn. Guess I got it cut for no reason.
She braided her mothers hair carefully, humming to herself, a sleepy tune, an enchanted tune. Slowly her mother fell to sleep. The girl smiled and pulled out her scizzors and chopped off all of her mothers long golden hair. Now without her flowing hair her mother would be nothing, the girl smiled evily, finally happy.
The long braid hung down her bare back. The water dripped from the bottom of the braid, the water from the lake. It had been so long since she had been in the water and it felt so good. She grabbed her braid and pulled the elastic out of it and shook it loose, water drops flying around her.
A braid. Three strands woven into one another to make a beautiful kind of art. Your significant other, your family, your friends. All these people help fill your life with color and art.
Ew. Really. The word is braid. I can’t braid my own hair or at least I don’t attempt to. My little sister is like a professional braider and it makes me really jealous of her life. She is just good at doing hair in general. I kind of suck at it so I do the same things with it like every day. But whatever, some people just aren’t good at certain things.
Braiding, a special skill I developed while traveling to south africa is somewhat complicated but for some reason was so easy for me to do while I was there. Unfortunately when I came home I couldn’t braid nearyas well as I had been able to do while in a foreign country. My experience wasn’t incredible in south Africa but at least there was one god thing, I could braid my hair.
this girl named sydney
she is so sexy
there’s just something about her
is it her 36c?
naw
is it her tightness that only lets her wear xsmall tampons?
nope
it’s like magic
something harry potter
could’ve done with his wand (his wand, not his willy)
wanna know
what she does?
sydney
braids
her
pubes
lolkbye
my friend Ama loves braiding hair. she’s African American and has really frizzy coarse thick dark hair and she can’t do much with it. She loves white girl hair. I have long, blonde straight hair, and while I don’t care much for it, Ama loves touching it. I sit in front of her in Government class and whenever I wear my hair down, she asks if she can brush it and braid it.
I remembered learning how to braid. I learned it myself. No one taught me. Not my mom, my grandma, or my aunt. I remembered asking my mom to teach me how to braid one time. She said she didn’t know how. So I took it upon myself to learn. On a doll, I parted 3 strands of hair. One on the left, one in the middle, and one on the right.
El peluquero y sus tijeras cortan inclementes su cabello y dejan caer aquella trenza que la había acompañado toda su infancia. La trenza que su madre se demoraba largos minutos en armar, la trenza con la que sus amigas jugaban a meter lapices entre sus recovecos o con la que su abuela experimentaba nuevos peinados.
No sabía la razón por la que había decidido deshacerse de ella. Tal ves era la señal de algo nuevo por venir.
Braids are fun to make, in anything and everything. Your hair, a string, a rope.
Anything.
Braiding things can take your mind off of things.
do it.
All the time.
It’s fun.
(: Trust me.
It’s like crocheting or knitting for some people.
it’s like the grape vine. A dance step. My fellow co teachers didn’t understand why it was called a grape vine…because you weave your legs and feet …like a braid. I get an ache in my arm when I braid my hair. I used to do it much more often when I was a ballerina, to spice things up. Now I just braid it to add waves…like venice beach down the street.
I’m only reminded of my jealousy of her braid as it flows down her back, whipping behind her as she walks down the hall. Hair so beautiful, she has it all.
Braid braid braid me around and under and prepositions always with silky strands and secrets. What’s more secret than me?
I have never braided my hair before in my life. When I see girls with braids in their hair, I just want to grab those braids and drag the girl towards me. I want to rip those braids off and eat them, just eat it a little bit. Then give her a nice steak dinner and let her on her way. Yeah.
I pulled her close, I breathed in her hair that was twisted into a braid, it smelled of strawberries. As we stood there, her in my arms. I knew we would be like this forever. And this is how it should be. Forever.
I put my hair into two braids today because I went to a country themed party. I thought it fit. Any other time that I put my hair in two braids, I take it out because it looks all country like I’m about to go milk some cows. And this time, I was. It had been a while. But I think it looked cute. Especially because my hair is so long now. Almost to the middle of my back. Yay.
I always braid my hair right before bed. It’s become a ritual: my mother used to do it when I was small, all the time. She’d do it before I went to bed, before we started cooking gingerbread at Christmas, before I washed my face… now that I’m alone I still do it for the familiarity.
Hair.
Braiding is something I can’t do.
I like french braids.
I wear my hair in braids sometimes.
Where did the braid originate?
Who decided to place three sections of hair and cross them in such and aesthetically pleasing pattern?
I wish my hair weren’t in layers so I could braid it easily.
She had her hair down her back, in a long braid. It was so long that it almost reached her waist. It shimmered like gold under the sun. He couldn’t help but notice how it swayed when she walked. He thought to himself that she might be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
Her thick, ebony hair was plaited into a long, even braid, reminding him of the tradition of long ago. The younger girls in the tribe had given up their tradition, fastening their woolen hair with striped bandanas. She — that beautiful, womanly, she — swung her braid as she danced to the rhythm of the drum.
The braid hangs down the back of my neck. It is itchy. I wish it were red like Pippy Longstaockings. Braids that stick stick straight out like antenae on a crazy caterpiller.
She always looked prettiest in braids, though you’ve never told her. Her eyes seems to burn with wild intensity when she did. Like she was ready to take on the evil and badness of the world. She was always braver than you.
she tried to braid my hair once but my frickin jewfro just frizzed it over
It’s all she wore. All her tied into one simple little braid. I couldn’t help but smile every time I saw her with it because it was like her signature, something she took pride in. And goodness, she looked beautiful every time she had her hair like that.
I think pig tails are the cutest thing, two braids are better than one.
It connects, running your fingers through one’s hair, working through the knots, an intimate bond between braider and braidee.
we made crowns from wild grass and baby’s breath
with round, not yet calloused fingers-
slip-knotting ends into braids atop our
windswept hair.
and it wasn’t such a surprise when they
fell
apart,
scattering faded flowers
across the
dirt floor.
The wires were braided tightly together but each individual strand began to snap with an awful sound that reminded me of trains smashing and birds dropping. The bridge was collapsing and I couldn’t get there fast enough.
I stood looking into the bathroom mirror focusing on the braid that I was attempting to put in my hair. The problem was I couldnt focus on the braid because he was standing right behind me with his arms circling my waist. My eyes kept straying to his, filled with love and desire. All I could think of were his muscular arms wrapped around my small waist slowly drawing circles into my skin. Every touch sent a shock through my body, my nerves went crazy, and I forgot about the braid, and turned around on my tiptoes. I reached up and gave him the kiss I’ve been wanting to share for the longest time…
Her braid hung down over my desk, light brown and only just twisted – not tight enough to covey a over-thought. Just enough to show the breadth of her being.
Her hair fell down her back as it twisted in the wind lightly. Walking down the river, mud in her toes and cold air on her face and a wide smile.
My arms always lose circulation when I braid my hair, so I don’t. But, having a cute braid is, was an identifiable item that I longed for in school. I have curly hair, so of course, they never laid exactly straight and also, my arms always lost circulation.
a length of rope could curl around my neck in a beautiful braid. Its neat tangle, a knotted caress.
The braid hung long and straight down her back. Her olive skin was beautiful and her tall, angular body was accentuated by the boots she wore against her skin tight jeans.
A braid is a twisted pattern. You could simply do it with hair, ribbons, string, yarn, anything that are in long strands. You simply make a pattern of the item (whatever it is, whether it be string, hair or what not) and you divide it into 3 sections, and simply cross them over one by one in the same pattern over and over again to result in a long piece of the material in a crossed “braided” pattern.
I braid my hair all the time! Well..I used to braid it all the time..before I cut it I mean. But noooo my hair’s short now because i “donated” it. I say donated in quotation marks, because I still haven’t mailed my 10 inches of hair to the cancer place yet.
i loved her hair best when it was in braids. i could never explain why. they looked goofy on the other girls, but she really made it work. i wanted to grab her and kiss her, but i never did.
My mom taught me how to braid hair so I could go around “impressing all those girls!” It worked, and I can braid pretty well for a dude.
I never had a braid. I’m a guy. Obviously I never had a braid. If I grew my hair out long, maybe then I’d have a braid. But no braids for me. I did have my hair long, once, way back when. It didn’t look good, in my opinion. It wasn’t long enough to braid, but most definitely long enough to tie in a rubberband. Believe it or not, my hair is now short…very, very short.
I braid my hair when i’m bored. Well….I used to before i got it cut and “donated it.” My 10 inches of braided hair are in a bag on top of my desk waiting to be mailed to the wig place as it has been for the past few weeks. Damn. Guess I got it cut for no reason.
She braided her mothers hair carefully, humming to herself, a sleepy tune, an enchanted tune. Slowly her mother fell to sleep. The girl smiled and pulled out her scizzors and chopped off all of her mothers long golden hair. Now without her flowing hair her mother would be nothing, the girl smiled evily, finally happy.
The long braid hung down her bare back. The water dripped from the bottom of the braid, the water from the lake. It had been so long since she had been in the water and it felt so good. She grabbed her braid and pulled the elastic out of it and shook it loose, water drops flying around her.
i want to braid my hair so that i look like Pocahontas. I also like to braid other people’s hair. Do you like french braids?
A braid. Three strands woven into one another to make a beautiful kind of art. Your significant other, your family, your friends. All these people help fill your life with color and art.
Ew. Really. The word is braid. I can’t braid my own hair or at least I don’t attempt to. My little sister is like a professional braider and it makes me really jealous of her life. She is just good at doing hair in general. I kind of suck at it so I do the same things with it like every day. But whatever, some people just aren’t good at certain things.
Braiding, a special skill I developed while traveling to south africa is somewhat complicated but for some reason was so easy for me to do while I was there. Unfortunately when I came home I couldn’t braid nearyas well as I had been able to do while in a foreign country. My experience wasn’t incredible in south Africa but at least there was one god thing, I could braid my hair.
this girl named sydney
she is so sexy
there’s just something about her
is it her 36c?
naw
is it her tightness that only lets her wear xsmall tampons?
nope
it’s like magic
something harry potter
could’ve done with his wand (his wand, not his willy)
wanna know
what she does?
sydney
braids
her
pubes
lolkbye
my friend Ama loves braiding hair. she’s African American and has really frizzy coarse thick dark hair and she can’t do much with it. She loves white girl hair. I have long, blonde straight hair, and while I don’t care much for it, Ama loves touching it. I sit in front of her in Government class and whenever I wear my hair down, she asks if she can brush it and braid it.
I remembered learning how to braid. I learned it myself. No one taught me. Not my mom, my grandma, or my aunt. I remembered asking my mom to teach me how to braid one time. She said she didn’t know how. So I took it upon myself to learn. On a doll, I parted 3 strands of hair. One on the left, one in the middle, and one on the right.
El peluquero y sus tijeras cortan inclementes su cabello y dejan caer aquella trenza que la había acompañado toda su infancia. La trenza que su madre se demoraba largos minutos en armar, la trenza con la que sus amigas jugaban a meter lapices entre sus recovecos o con la que su abuela experimentaba nuevos peinados.
No sabía la razón por la que había decidido deshacerse de ella. Tal ves era la señal de algo nuevo por venir.