To each their own —unless they’re my own— but… ugh. 😀
I don’t like braids, tight ponytails, or honestly, most kinds of up-do. Even if I appreciate the artistry of it, it’s a turn-off. I mean, at least give me some bangs to work with or something.
To give you an idea of how absurdly ingrained this is in my libido: Ariana Grande should be my idea of a perfect physical specimen, but I pretty much ignore her existence because of how she tends to wear her hair. Madness, I know.
The earliest I remember having an opinion about braids was fourth grade. I had a habit of pulling the hair of the girl who sat in front of me —it was shiny and soft and I liked her— and I was always annoyed when she strategically wore pigtails that were easier to keep out of my reach.
And thus did the petty resentments of a nine year old reverberate throughout the decades.