A lack of silky, flowing tresses brings little black girls to tears, makes women put $1,000 hair weaves on layaway plans and encourages use of harsh chemicals to straighten naturally taut curls, according to Chris Rock's documentary "Good Hair."

But critics say the film's premise exaggerates black hair care practices and ignores the fact that black women's hairstyles today are more diverse than ever before. Although many prefer long, bone-straight hair, stylists say black women request every look from dreadlocks to mohawks.

The perfect example is in the White House, where first lady Michelle Obama sports a variety of straightened hairstyles and daughters Sasha and Malia alternate between natural and straightened hairdos.

"A lot more people are coming in and asking about trends," said Cecily Pollard, stylist at The Natural Choice barbershop and hair salon in Oakland. "More people want to start locks. One thing that doesn't change is people love micros [braids] and kinky twists."

"In the past, more black women felt as if they had to have long, straight hair, but there are so many more natural services than ever before. And a lot of women really feel good about themselves with natural hair," said Stephanie Moye, owner of Moye Hair Etc! in Penn Hills.

Historically, hair care for black women in America has never been a simple choice between a straight or curly day. The concept of "good hair" traces back to slavery, when blacks with European features were viewed as more attractive by masters and elevated to better work positions. After emancipation, blacks were encouraged to use hot combs and other straightening products to ease assimilation into American society.

"In the 19th century, black political and business leaders began to talk about how it was important for black women to have straight hair because it spoke to images of respectability and the desire for forward progress," said professor Noliwe Rooks, associate director of Princeton University's Center for African-American Studies and author of "Hair Raising: Beauty, Culture and African-American Women." "Hair in its natural state was often described as marking someone as uncivilized."

The backlash against hair straightening coincided with the mid-20th century black power movement. Black women were told to embrace their natural hair and were often labeled as "sellouts" for wearing straight styles. Today, many blacks who choose natural hairstyles are stereotyped as "militant" because of the old association with the movement.

Angela Bronner Helm, senior editor of AOL's BlackVoices.com, said the stereotype's impact on corporate culture is a key factor in black women's decisions to straighten their hair.

"There may not be a rule stating you can't wear your hair in dreadlocks or other natural styles [in corporate settings], but there are silent codes," she said. "If you want to do well in your job or progress you might have to go with something like a straightened bob."

Natural Choice stylist Alexis Murphy said a friend was offered a promotion on the condition he cut the dreadlocks he had been growing for four years. She said he ultimately decided to make the cut, but wondered what the decision cost.

"My whole question is how do you not take the job? And how will we be able to move past that and get in a position where we enter careers we want while being ourselves?" she said.

In an effort to counter workplace obstacles and still stay true to their sense of style, Ms. Murphy said many black women flat iron their hair straight for the office and wash it out to wear it in its natural state on off days. Using her own straightened bob as an example, Ms. Murphy said she loves that her hair goes right back to its coarse roots whenever she chooses.

"I just love how my hair feels when its kinky," she said. "I love running my fingers through it."

But some women, such as Mary Boxley of the North Side, are choosing hairstyles without fear of repercussion at work. Ms. Boxley said she got strange looks from colleagues at Mercy Hospital after cutting her straight shoulder length hair to grow dreadlocks, but was never forced to choose between her hair and her job.

"At first my supervisor was looking at me like 'Wow, is she OK?' But now they're starting to see the finished product of what I'm going through. My hair is natural. Get used to it," she said.

Whether hair is worn natural or relaxed -- straightened with a sodium hydroxide cream solution -- versatility is key for many black women, says Dana Ramsey, owner of Dana's Styling Salon in East Liberty. Although the film presents relaxers as a dangerous procedure used to erase signs of ethnicity, client Carrie Marion of Bellevue said she simply doesn't know how to manage her hair without one.

Ms. Marion, a biracial woman who was adopted into a white family in Omaha, Neb., said that when she was a child, her parents had no idea how to style her hair. But after her first relaxer, she could wear simple, flattering hairstyles without any problems.

"I'd rather keep the [relaxer] in because the couple times I didn't put it in it gets tangled and is hard to pick out. It's easier to manage with the [relaxer]."

Women wearing hair weaves and wigs also faced charges of ethnic denial as recently as the early '90s. But today, black women treat hair pieces like accessories and frequently change them according to their moods.

"People don't wear weave because they're bald-headed anymore; they wear it for variety," said Ms. Ramsey. "If you want [hair] to be a different color, or want it to be a little fuller, just add it."

"That's me. I change my hair so much you may try to look like me but you can't," said Dana's stylist Mioche Powell with a laugh. "Whatever I think looks good I try. If it doesn't look good, I take it out."

The idea that black women choose hairstyles they like, as opposed to what they are told they should like, is a radical departure from the past and is not true across the board. Professor Rooks says some black women still define beauty "by the length of their hair and it being as far from their natural texture as possible."

Some black women feel they need to wear a weave to be accepted, particularly in the fashion, media and entertainment industries, Ms. Moye says.

But Pittsburgh-area stylists and their clients say most black women have redefined the idea of "good hair" to fit their own tastes, if they believe in the idea at all.

"'Good hair' to me is like the n-word" Ms. Ramsey says. "It was relevant back in the day because people made it relevant, and it isn't relevant today."

Ms. Pollard calls her husband's coarse hair "good" because it's perfectly suited for natural styles. "We twisted it into locks...it locked up the same day."

Dana's stylist Regina Brantley's definition is more basic.

" 'Good hair' is a good, healthy head of hair," Ms. Brantley said. "If it's workable, it's good."

Doug Oster writes a blog, "Growing With Doug," exclusively at PG+, a members-only web site of the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. Our introduction to PG+ gives you all the details.