One thing I dislike about minimalist sci-fi designs is that it tends to result in every black girl getting a pin-straight hairstyle. You’re in space. You can’t get a perm or a relaxer in space. I just want to see your curls set loose in zero gravity, floating about your helmet with ethereal grace as you walk out among the stars with only a slender cord to tie you to the safety of your ship. I want to see your curls fall into your face, framing the darkness in your void-black eyes as you stand before some unknown enemy and swear to fight for the planet you love. I just want to see you in the stars, being yourself, not someone who has been forced down into the same mold as the table, the chairs, and the uncertain future we imagine for ourselves.