Showing posts with label Fashion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fashion. Show all posts

Monday, August 13, 2012

Is It Sexist That We Keep Bringing Up Kim Kardashian's Sex Tape?



I was perusing Refinery29, in the same manner that I usually do on a weekday afternoon, when I came across a little article about Kim Kardashian and the fashion industry. It was entitled, "Will the Fashion Industry Ever Accept Kim Kardashian?" which I thought was a valid question, considering that most of her business ventures have been fashion related. I giggled and answered with a hearty, "NO," before I had even given the article a chance to contribute it's 2 cents. In case you were wondering, I was right, and according to the article, the fashion kids on the couture playground will always, always, always pick Kim last for dodge ball games.

The article's author listed Kim K's many successful business endeavors and punctuated it with, " ...all from the seed of a sex tape." I yelped. Jesus wept.

And then, after I was done being tickled, I thought, "Is it sexist that we keep bringing up Kim's sex tape?"

Understand that I'm usually the first to bring it up, randomly, even when nobody's talking or thinking about Kim or the rest of the K-Klan. Every time I see their show or a QVC presentation of one of their atrocious K-Dash "fashion" attempts, or one of them is interviewed, I think, "They all have Kim and her sex tape escapades to thank for all of this stardom." In fact, there was a brief period of time when I felt like maybe I was the only one that remembered that Ray J and K coitus production ever happened. It seemed like everyone had forgotten and maybe it was lost on the public that this was in fact the way in which Kim had been thrust into the spotlight. And yes, I intentionally used the word "thrust".

But recently, I've noticed that people have been bringing it up in a very random fashion, that often has little or nothing to do with the subject matter at hand. Oprah asked her about it in a recent interview. When she did, I had to get up off my couch and stand in front of the TV like I was at Sunday service and the Bishop was doing his good preaching. I felt gratified that someone had finally addressed it. Then, there was this article. However, I can't help but wonder if it would be a different scenario if Kim were a guy. Like, for instance, if this were Ray J in an interview -- well, assuming someone would ever want to interview Ray J to begin with -- would they be asking him about a sex tape he made back during the paleolithic age? By anyone's standards, 2007 was a long time ago. Is the tape still relevant? Are we (myself included) "slut shaming" Kim?

My guess is that the only reason that there is a resurgence in conversation about the tape is based almost exclusively on the fact that Kim has a va-jay-jay and not peen. I doubt that at this point anyone would care enough to bring it up if Kim were male. No one asks Hugh Grant about Divine Brown, nor has that incident been brought up in mainstream media in years. Kobe Bryant caught a case for rape, and yet, no one feels compelled to ask him about it in post game interviews. It happened and it's over and that's the general consensus among the public and the media.

Maybe we should leave Kim alone about it. She says she was humiliated by it. She says it's her biggest regret. Some have speculated that she or even her manager mom is the reason that the tape was released in the first place, but I choose (at least, initially) to believe what people say about themselves and their own lives. According to her, that's not something that she would have intentionally shared with the world. Honestly, I can't even begin to imagine how it must feel to have those images of myself out there for all of humanity to see, for all eternity. And I can't imagine how hurtful it would be to have people bring it up for the rest of my life. I'd be mortified.

It's fun to poke fun at people. And yes, I did use the word "poke" on purpose. But, I guess the more mature, compassionate, and feminist part of myself has to say that there's a point when pointing and laughing can cross the line and turn into something ugly, mean, and in this case, sexist. I can't promise that I won't almost always have flash backs to Kim and Ray J sexy time every time I see Kiki. But I'll try not to judge her for the questionable choices she made in her past.

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

The Problem with Wedding Dresses




The problem with wedding dresses is that, in my opinion, they're ugly. Now, that wouldn't be much of an issue if I weren't getting married at the end of the year, and therefore looking for one to wear to this ceremony my fiance and I call ourselves planning. When I walk into a bridal shop, this is what the conversation sounds like:

ME: Hi, I'm looking for a simple, elegant wedding gown.

CONSULTANT: When is your wedding?

ME: December 2nd.

CONSULTANT: OF THIS YEAR!?!?!

ME: Ummm... yeah.

CONSULTANT: OH! WELL IT'S TOO LATE TO ORDER ONE! We'll have to find something for you off the rack.

ME: That's fine.

CONSULTANT: What do you have in mind?

ME: Something simple and modern. Mermaid shaped, ivory, strapless. No beading, no appliques, no lace, to pick ups, no shiny material.

CONSULTANT: *blank stare*

And this results in me leaving the shop, with no dress. Apparently, you have to secure your wedding dress damn near a year in advance, since they have to give the silk worms plenty of time to get it together. Also, notice that all of the "style elements" I hate (beading, lace, foolishness) are exactly the things that a respectable wedding dress is made of. Factor in my budget, which dictates that I will not spend 2/10 of a down payment for a house on a dress that I will wear for a few hours. Anybody that does, I don't know what to say to you. In my world, rent and a car note must be paid regularly, I have no benefactors, and children in Africa are starving. Not to mention that fact that I want my future husband and I to be able to actually live after this little cute wedding situation. And we're not going into debt to impress anybody. So, there. Where the bargain wedding dresses at?!?!!

But not the ugly ones, though.

Actually, it seems that the less poofy and gaudy the dress is, the higher the price. Does that have something to do with minorities and lower class folks and their love affair with cheesy embellishments? I wonder. I want to look well put together on my wedding day. Not like a mountain of sparkly whipped cream. I'm 31, not 3.

I blame this all on these grown ass women who've only ever wanted to be a princess all their lives. Because of them, every dress I try on gotta have a flock of geese and a gospel choir attached to the back. That's not what my life is about. Wedding be damned, it is never under any circumstances my desire to appear as though I may be smuggling a family of midgets under my skirt. No, thank you.

My current struggle has caused me to reflect on my past experiences with weddings and I recently realized that I've never seen a wedding dress that made me want to slap my Mama. When I see women in wedding gowns, I always think, "Oh, pretty. She's getting married," and it has little to do with the dress itself. It's just that she has the garb on and no matter how well it fits, what the style is, or if it aligns with my personal taste, she's a bride and that's beautiful.

Which means that I could wrap myself in a few rolls of toilet paper and shuffle down the aisle with a handful of somebody's front yard perennials in my fist, and nobody would really think twice about it, which is good. That gives me hope that in this sea of ugly wedding dresses, if I can just manage to secure the one that is least ugly, I'm winning.

Thursday, December 8, 2011

But This Photo, Though



True, she is skinny as all the fucks. But this photo, though! GIRL, YOU BETTER MODEL! Oh! The pose! The dress! Is she on stilts? OH MAH GAH!

*passes out*

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

This Shit Right Here, Son!



This hoodie right here is giving me life. It's just the sort of eye candy a girl needs to get through daylight savings, the middle of the week... and being poor. Okay, actually, maybe I need more than a picture of a bad-ass hoodie to get me through poverty. But you get my point.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

When Black Women Cut All Their Hair Off...

About a week after I first cut all my hair off (for tha billionth time in my life) I had an interesting little exchange with tha mail man at my job. He's a really cool, older black man named Jimmy who has a bit of a southern accent, regularly talks about his wife, and chats with us about sports. He's a father type, who probably goes to church on Sundays and knos a little somethin about cars. No nonsense, real decent kinda guy. He came into my office as part of his daily routine, placed our mail on a table, sat our packages beside tha mail, and as he was collecting our out going parcels looked at me and asked, "Are you sick?"

Of course, I was confused.

Then he went on to say something to tha effect of, "Well, I saw all your hair was gone and didn't kno if you were sick..."

Which led me to a thought...

In tha Black Woman's quest to find beauty in herself, she's been led down a path that dictates that she must grow and keep as much hair on her head as she possibly can at all times. I kno this, partially because I am a Black woman and also, because at one point I was a hairstylist. Not only would a good number of black women fall out and die at tha mere thought of cutting off their hair, but most won't consider tha possibility that they might be able to function in life should their hair decide to wave, curl, or (GASP!) nap up. For tha average Black woman in America, there is simply no fate worse than bald or nappy headed-ness.

Which leads me to a fundamental truth about Black Women...

If she has cut all her hair off, she is probably (A) DYING OF CANCER, or (B) HAS COMPLETELY LOST HER MIND.

Well, I ain't dying of Cancer, praise White Jesus. So, tha latter must be true. I mean, why else would anyone do this...



And intentionally go from this...




To this...




Observe tha slightly crazy look that was already present in my eyes before I went off tha deep end and took some clippers to my scalp. Notice tha crazed grin in tha "after" photo. Clearly, something is wrong. And whut's worse is that apparently, tha insanity is contagious. My best sista-friend from high school went from this...



To this...



Menacing! And whut exactly is it that she's got hiding behind that door back there? Answer: You wouldn't wanna kno!

And this po sista...



Well, she been a stark raving mad lunatic, but doesn't tha lack of hair make it more apparent?



I certainly think so.

You may be asking, "So, Nikki... whut exactly is your point?" and to that, my answer is, "I really don't kno... lemmme think..."

[insert elevator music here]

Okay, yes. My point is whut reactions to Solange's recent chop confirmed. As a Black Woman, you can't do any of tha following things:

*Love yourself
*Think you're beautiful
*Refuse to hav said beauty defined by society
*Not want to be boxed in
*Feel tha wind and/or sun on your scalp
*Go swimming and put your head UNDER tha water
*Be satisfied with tha way God made you
*Not be terrified by naps
*Not think that your hair is your beauty
*Not want to put harmful chemicals in your hair
*Want to look Afrikan
*Not be concerned with whut a man might think
*Look in tha mirror and not think you're ugly
*Not compare yourself to others
*Want to look and feel like yourself
*Not sit in a salon for 6 hours every two weeks
*Not strive to be perceived as "beautiful" by Eurocentric standards
*Be satisfied
*Feel like you're enough, as you are

And you most certainly, must not, under any circumstances allow your hair to be nappy. God forbid you cut it off.


If you do, you're sick. You're crazy. Most of all, you're ugly.



Remember it. Own it. Embody it. Live it. Teach it to your daughters and preach it to your sons. It's tha only way to quell tha hideous scourge of crazy bald headed black women that hav come to invade your consciousness. They may not hav Cancer, but they are a type of insidious, parasitic disease, feasting upon all that is good, acceptable, and decent. Shifting your paradigm, fuckin' with your perception of beauty, broadening your horizons, trapping you in their webs of nappiness, blinding you with tha glare of tha sun reflecting off their shiney scalps. They'll make you crazy, too, if you're not careful... So be careful.

Mothers, don't let your daughters grow up to own clippers. All that great hair that you so lovingly permed and pressed will be gone in an instant. And then, whut will become of her? She might end up somewhere... thinkin. She might hav tha nerve to hav a little bit of pride (ugh!). PRIDE DON'T PAY THA BILLS!

[laughter. Lots of it]

Forreal, tho... all jokes aside... this is not a judgement on Black women who chose to grow their hair long or straighten it (tho, I do feel some kinda major way about that, but I won't talk about it, cause I don't want to hurt nobody's feelings... today). I just want to encourage all women to be brave, and bold, make tha best decisions that you can for yourself and love you, no matter whut people like, don't like, or may hav to say. God made you, and that is enough to make you beautiful.

And tha church says, "BOOM."

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Don't Judge Me!

I know, I know, I KNOW! I fell off...again. I'm sorry! I been busy! I'll reserve all tha details about whut happened with my poem a day and whut tha hell I been doin', while I was missing in action for basically all of tha month of May for another blog post. None of that is important now. There are two WAY more pressing issues.

#1



Erykah Badu at tha 2009 UCLA Jazz Festival in shiny black pants...



I was there. Yes, she did wear a hoodie with a hat on top. Yes, there was a black, satin sleeping cap under tha hoodie. Yes, she poured out a little liquor for tha homies that ain't with us. Yes, she did whut tha fuck she wanted, too.

Here's thing #2

...literally...it's a thing.



I DEFY YOU to look at this video for any length of time and tell me that this isn't at least one of tha top 5 gayest things you've ever seen with your own eyes. Tha only way this could become slightly more homo is if his clone came out and started dancing with him. And then if they had sex. This, folks, is tha reason why I blog.

Oh, and before I go...lemme go on ahead and give him tha Nigga Please Award. I'm pretty sure he deserves it.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Obviously, Un-Cool

I thought I was fly. However, I'm starting to realize that apparently I'm not...nor am I cool, cause I don't dress like this...




And not only do I not dress like that, but I don't understand how it's considered attractive. I would never leave tha house in this outfit:



Or this one:



Yet, apparently women are dressing like this on purpose and they seem to like it. Am I just being hateful? Do I not have any sense of fashion or good taste? I mean, I get this outfit:



I understand it. It makes sense to me. And this one:



And this lady right here is fly as birds:




But this sista right here look a critical mess:




All of this is really making me start to question my opinion of whut is aesthetically pleasing, nowadays. I mean, I get tha concept of "not matching" and dressing "eclectic" and even wearing vintage pieces... I happen to love vintage! But I don't see how these outfits are cohesive, attractive, or even make sense. Everyone looks like they just found these pieces somewhere and threw them all on at tha same time, if you ask me. When I leave out of tha house in tha morning, I prefer to look like I actually have a home. Should that not be my objective anymore, so as to remain current with my wardrobe choices? Any thoughts?