Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Unbe[WEAVE]able.


     I be puttin some hair in my hair. Just be warned that sometimes I didn't grow it all but I did pay for it. I don't wear weave all the time but... Sometimes I want a ponytail and my hair just isn't as long as I need it to be be, so I put hair in. Just like when a dress isn't as short as you need it to be, you use safety pins. Or when your eyelashes aren't as long as you need them to be, you use mascara (or false ones for a dramatic effect). And when your skin isn't as soft as you need it to be, you use lotion. Or when you don't smell as good as you need to smell,  you used perfume. Like when your breath isn't as fresh as you want it to be, you chew gum.  Similar to how when your nails aren't as long as you want them to be you get acrylics. 

     Hair is a product. It is bought and used and thrown aways just like everything else. 

     Sometimes I have long hair, sometimes I don't. Sometimes I have straight hair, sometimes I don't. My hair changes with the outfit, with the times, with the shoes. I'm not that girl with the same hair style everyday for 6 years who needs a nudge to part her hair on the other side for a change. My two best friends (who don't use weave at all & never have) will see me one day normal and the other with Romance Curls flowing. When they say, "That grew fast," I say, "Didn't it?" and KEEP IT MOVIN. 

     If you have something against weave, you probably don't know much about it. Or, you're probably afraid that someone will feel about you, the way you judge people with weave. Women are afraid of being classified as A) Bald and B) unhappy with yourself. We are our own worst enemies. Sometimes, people do look better with weave. We okay plastic surgery, liposuction and makeup to alter appearances, but you're telling me I can't attach a couple strands of hair to my own? We all like to alter our appearance and present ourselves as a particular that we agree with. Even people who hate fashion and want to wear "whatever" purposely pick that "whatever" so that they look like they hate fashion. That is your fashion.

     And hair extensions are a part of fashion. I'm assuming most of you have never been backstage at a fashion show? From Loyola's Fashion show to Baltimore Fashion Week to DC Fashion Week to Calvin Klein.... it's everywhere. Trust me.  ITs just that some places, and in some communities, its more prevalent, more fashionable, more acceptable. I went to school in Baltimore where the white girls got the Weave in.  But then I'm from Rhode Island where it's all light skinned girls with long hair. It is what it is. 

     Sometimes, I want my eyelashes long. Sometimes I don't. Sometimes I want my hair long. Sometimes I don't.  but NO times do I want a man who is too critical of me to allow me to do what makes me  feel beautiful. If I said wearing green makes me feel more beautiful, would you object? If a woman feels better doing A over B, then let her do that (as long as it looks good). 

     That's my only opinion about weave: Do it right. I'm not very good at it, so I don't do it often (anymore)... but I know some beautiful women who WORK THAT SHIT.  Ahem... Beyonce? Ahemm.. Taylor Swift? Ahem all female celebrities? White girls, black girls, spanish girls, asian girls. THEY ALL DO IT. With some girls, the hair just happens to match theirs better & they can use one or two tracks vs a head full. Please, don't be so naive. 

     And really, it's none of your business what I do with my hair or what another women does with hers. Unless you are willing to invest time and money into that person so they can be what you think they should be, keep your comments to yourself. If a man doesn't like a girl who puts weave in her hair, then he doesn't like me. And I don't like men who don't like me. So why do I care what he thinks?

     Now, I understand how a man might feel and his desire to run his fingers through my hair, which is why I only put hair in sometimes. A man also just wants to know that your hair actually grows. It makes men nervous to date a bald girl. What will their friends say? Men are more worried about weave than we are.  & for the argument that it smells? Yes, cheap weave does, I agree. & if you put too much product in it, yes again. & if you leave it in too long, double yes.  I had a friend who would DROP $$$ on a pack of hair. I never would. For that reason, I bought more hair than she did. I couldn't leave mine in as long. 

So if you do it, spend your pretty penny & work that shit, mama. 

If you don't. Good for you, but mind your own business. 

Men: If you don't like a girl who wears weave, then don't date one. It's that simple. 


Why Is Your Game So Lame?



      If I didn't lose my iPhone on Saturday, I'd have taken a screen shot of this conversation but... here's what took place yesterday:

     "wyd"
     "Shopping"
     "What u got me?"
     "I got you an account number you can deposit money into anytime you want"

    While he L[his]AO in the following txt, I was serious. Two... no... three things in that exchange bothered me immediately.

 1. I hate the way he texts... like, "wyd". I hate that. Why don't people spell anything out anymore?  I feel like it simply allows stupid men to hide behind text messages and avoid sending messages they can't spell. If you can't spell, you can't spell. I'd rather know straight up. And "What you got me." It's get, not got. Ok, this might be a shallow thing to complain about but... I'm not asking you to have a PHD but,  I like a guy who grasped the 3rd grade. 

2.  Don't fuckin ask me what I got you. I know he didn't mean it but... it is suuuchh a turn off. It's just a statement that is lathered in "broke". Honestly, I don't want to buy a man anything. Not because I can't, but because I really don't want to. Men who are comfortable taking gifts/money from women aren't the type of men I'm into. I like a totally egotistical, traditional, "I'm a man" man. They type of man that, if I wanted to stop working and stay home with the kids, would take care of me like a man should. Careful with these comfortable men,  because they can quickly get too comfortable. First you buy him a gift, then shoes, then clothes, then a bed, then a house, then a car, then all of a sudden, this nigga just don't work and sits on his ass because he has no shame. And you know why? You let him do it. If you love a man that much, more power to you. But Ella isn't that kind of girl. At least, not anymore.  

3. He thought I was playing.  I will take money from any man that gives it to me. Here's my argument, why spend my money when I can spend yours? I don't need yours, I need mine. Sometimes we (women) don't want to take things from men because he'll expect something in return. So? He can expect what he wants, but what he should expect is to be disappointed. 


     And so, as I finished this text message exchange, I arrived at my "First Date" with the other guy I had met that same night.

     Some advice for my male readers... actually all readers, when you meet someone new, there is always someone else. Always someone willing to pick up your slack. These guys text me 3 minutes apart like clockwork and I have the luxury of choice. If you're slippin on your pimpin, Ma...your boy will choose me (like Shawnna says in "Gettin Some")... or (for the fellas) I'll choose the other guy. Don't ever think you have no competition. You always have competition, even if you have none. (Scarface, the movie did more than Scarface the rapper, to me.)

     Oh.. & later last night, this FOOL sends me a picture of himself. and I wanted to ROTFL. (That was totally necessary) Bad Idea, hun. Cuz I had no idea what you looked like & the dark did him wonders. Now, the ONLY reason I might respond to his texts is for  free meal on a desperate day.  

Whatev... I like food. And attention.  Sue me. 

First Date.

        
One thing I'm awesome at? First impressions.        

       I had my official first NYC date today and I must say... it went better than I had expected. One of my cousins told me that NYC is a "single city" and the other told me the club we went to is "full of ballers" so, I've been waiting (im)patiently on both of these things to realize. 

     Although we met Saturday, he didn't call me until yesterday (and I hated the wait)... but, Ladies, he called. I don't remember the last time I got a phone call before a text message. I heard his voice. I know his voice. How many guys are you talking to right now whose voice you can't recognize? It's different. I never noticed how much more you get to know a person when you can listen to them. Or even just hear them. You notice the quirks, they way they pause, the way they pronounce certain things. You get to know things about that person that they  can't tell you. Honestly, eff the whole "I'm the type of person who" conversation. With some dates/conversations it feels like you're reading the other person's Twitter wall as they go in on the #TypeOfPersonThat trending topic.  

     We went to Starbucks --Wait. He went to Starbucks. I made him wait. I was purposely late for the date. I shopped H&M (yes, again. I bought a light jean dess, a leather vest. Well, pleather I suppose, sheer nylon & a jacket that looks like a blazer... hit up H&M ASAP, they're having a sale) while he ordered me a Caramel Macchiato, extra caramel because "I'll be there soon." We met at the Starbucks between 38-39th. I work on 40th. I walked passed him and entertained myself on purpose.When I showed up, I said "Sorry I'm late, there was a sale." He needs to know how important shopping is to me without really having to say it. & he needed to know that I spend money on myself. So I'm not worried about him. & I didn't even thank him for the coffee. 

     I know what you're thinking..."Bitch."  Pause. You're future's my past, I've been here before. 

Sidebar: That's a Jay line (Streets is Talkin) & if you don't know by now, his lyrics give me guidance... Continuing my rendition of the verse....

 I know when they scheming. I feel when they plotting.  I've got, mental-vision. Intuition. I know where they think they going. I read their mind's navigational systems. They want ass. (Sorry for the language but there's another word that's much more vulgar.) Your moves let a man know how easily he's going to get in it. 

      Men read our actions as much as we read theirs.  Imagine if I had been there when he showed up? Waiting on this man. Like I'm thirsty for his company. Like I've been thinking about him all day. I wasn't. But even if I was.... Ladies, never wait on a man. Ever. He can wait on you. If he wants you, he'll sit and wait. & Order your iced latte for you. & Make sure you get the one with more caramel. & then wipe if off for you so that your hands don't get sticky. You might think I'm asking for too much.. But hey. Why not? Ask yourself this: If he can't patiently wait on you to show up, what makes you think he's going to patiently wait to get that _ _ _ _ _?  

     There's power there. & Jay-Z told us that much.  "Power of the _ _ _ _ _."  Sweet Cooch Brown is one of my idols. 

     But there's more power in your mind. If I guy really like you, you can get him for everything. There's a simple method to it: Be Perfect. Every man wants to wife a good girl. Luckily, I don't have to lie completely. I just don't give my life story on the first date. 

     None of us are perfect, but us ladies need to stop pretending like we don't care how we come across. I does matter what people think. We all know the kind of girl a man wants: Cute, hardworking & respectable. If he asks you out, he already thinks your cute (check). To be hardworking, all you need is a job (hopefully, check). Men consider that hardworking even if you just babysit.  Respectable? That's a lilttle tougher.. but all you need to do is NOT throw it at him... or his friends. Easier than you thought, huh? 

     & Honestly... I've made the mistake to talk about sex too early. Even if you don't end up having sex, he knows that you want it because you've talked about it. If I've talked about it, I wanted it (let's be adults here). If a man feels like he can get it, he basically feels like he got it. You're that much "easier" to get. Don't be easy. 


    You must all be thinking that I went into this with the plan in my head... no, it just happened that way. Somehow it worked, so I'm trying to give this to you so you can take advantage of my residual game. (LOL. Residual Game. I crack myself up. I sometimes wonder if you guys find me as funny as I do. I went back and bolded it so everybody reads that one twice. ha!)  Last night, he told me to let him know ahead of time if I would be able to meet. & that he needed about 20 minutes to get to me.  Aaaanndddd  I didn't. I actually planned to not warn him & see if I could get him to come last minute. Luckily though, I was busy all day & had little time to text. So at 6:30 (after responding to his "hey, have a nice day" crap...) I txted him "20 minutes?" and he txted back "Ok. I'm leaving now." Points for him. 

     Truly though, I had a good hair/outfit day I wanted to take advantage of. 

     Even more truly? I didn't give a shit. About him, about the conversation. About his feelings. All i cared about was... me. I went to the bathroom around 5 & saw myself in the mirror (you know how  sometimes you're not sure about how you look all day?) & I liked what I saw. My confidence was up. Never go on a date nervous. The more you like yourself, the more comfortable you are and the more he'll like you.  I mean, you look good today! Take advantage of the days you feel good about yourself... and make them gooder. Yes, gooder. 

     So... yea. We didn't do dinner, (although I tried to & I'm still hungry) but he does want to see me again & there better be food (I made him beg for me to call him. Told him I don't call men.. oh yea... Some mo' residual game fo yo ass!). I'm typically private about my relationships but... hey you don't know they guy & ya wont! 

     Besides... if he plays his cards right, he shouldn't be afraid of what I'm posting here right?? Like...  the fact that he has a nice bod (and I did not miss a "y"), for example. If he reads this blog in the future, he'll be happy I said that. 

I'll keep y'all posted.  <3

**PS: For anyone who has heard my "Dear Love" piece during one of my rare spoken word performances, I surely had a tall latte but wasn't waiting on Love.


oh yea... & good girls don't eff on the first date. In a man's mind, there are no exceptions. Don't buy his lies. 

Monday, September 27, 2010

Because Men Can't be Golddiggers?

And I never let a D-Boy boink for free. -Nicki Minaj in "Roger That"


     When a guy says he wants a girl who has her own car, no problem. If he ask that she have job? No problem. If he rather she have her own place? No issues there either. For some reason, women are the only ones judged when, in their lists of requirements for a man, we ask that he have a job, a car and a place of his own.  If we ask for these things, we earn a venerated and feared label: Golddigger. 


     So, I decided to give it a Google run. Here are the results:


Answers.comA woman who seeks money and expensive gifts from men.
UrbanDictionary.com: When a woman who is attractive lies to gain wealth without proper work and showing very little or no affection towards the usually unattractive rich man.

     So only women can be golddiggers? I know men who chose the "less attractive" girl because she has a "head on her shoulders" and "has her own". But if we ask that a man get on his job and also have a "head on his shoulders" we're golddiggers.  I liked Webster's definition the best.

Webster's: person who uses charm to extract money or gifts from others

     I was with a broke guy once. (He knows he was broke sooo...sorry, hun) I was 16. He was 21(No comments, please.). I worked... all the time. Sometimes two jobs. He worked at a supermarket, part-time. I used to make him take me to eat at the Chili's across from his job. Pretty much blew his paycheck for him. BUT... I was his young suga mama. I stocked his fridge when he got his new place (that I told him he needed to get. He was 21, y'all.) I bought his game stations, clothes, sneakers. Every time I got myself a pair, I got him a pair. He was cute and I the stupidest smart girl ever. Now, he loved me, but he loved what I did for him more. I did everything for him. I fed him when he was hungry and gave him a place to stay when he had no where to turn.

Why isn't he a golddigger?

     Why is it wrong to want someone to be able to take me out? Is it wronger to want to go to nice places? Are you still a golddigger if you have your own money? Is it wrong that when a guy says "My birthday is on the ___ . What you getting me?" I'm automatically turned off and he no longer has a chance in hell? Is it wrong that I don't ask for anything, but I do expect something? Why can't I expect something? Am I not worth a couple dollars? I mean... men say that pussy is free, but it's really not. Prostitutes charge, that means there is a price. Most of these bitches out here just have low prices. And I mean, prostitutes will do what you pay for. The more you pay, the better the girl. The better the tricks.  These girls out here are on year long clearance with below average product. 

     So, Ella's on Ebay. Waiting on the highest bidder. & believe the Buy Now price is appalling.

Allow me to justify my thug. 

     I have my own. But, why would I be with someone who can't add to the pot? I'm not looking for a rich man, because I'm not rich. But... like with any partner for any reason, you match up based on compatibility of various factors. $$ is on my chart. I can go out to eat by myself. I'll eat well by myself, so why do I have to settle for Fridays when I'm with someone else?  I'd rather just go by myself where I want to go. Instead of window shopping with a man, I'd rather shop by myself and ball out. Either we both window shopping or we both shopping. & I'm not window shopping, sweetie. Why does he need to be there? And by "there" I mean, in my life. 

   The other day, this guy followed me around Macy's trying to get my number. "If you're not going to pay, there's no reason for you to follow me around," I said.

     "I'll buy you whatever you want, ma," he responded.

     "I want that," I said, pointing at a dress I had just put down. 

    "You want this?" he said as he picked it up and glanced at the tag.

     "No, I want the whole rack." 

He laughed. I walked. He followed.

 He continued on saying.... something... as I stopped to look at this Rachel Roy top and tried to figure out what it said. When I read it, I turned to him. "Do you know what this says?" I interrupted.

     "What does it say?"

     "I will not take part in pointless conversation," I said, looking him in the eye. 

He stopped. I laughed. (You guessed it.) He followed. 

     Simply put, he's broke. & he lied. He said he could buy me what I wanted, but he didn't show me anything. A real baller would have told the salesgirl to help me pick out what I wanted and handed over the money/card/first-born, whatever. Now, I'm not asking for this, but don't pretend to be that if you're not. Because... me? Of all people? I know my shit. (& BTW, he did NOT get my number lol).  

     Men think that all women want millionaires. We do. But we don't expect that from you. All we want is a nice dinner, maybe once a week. And hopefully, you have $60 to spend on me a week. That's really not that much. I spent $600 on me this week. I'm only asking for you to spend 10% of what spend on me. Here's the catch: The more I  spend on myself, the more you'll have to spend on me. It's relatively exponential. So if you don't want to spend a lot of money on a girl, get a girl who doesn't spend money on herself, then she won't expect as much. She'll be okay with Wendy's or McDonald's.  Me? I don't even eat that shit.  And not because I'm "too good", but because it's not healthy. And really, it doesn't taste good after you stop eating it. 

    I like good things. Good food, good dates, good shoes, good clothes, good places. And for that, if I should be labeled a golddigger. Fine. I refuse to support a man (ever again) or lower my standards to what he can afford if I can do better by myself. I'm with Lisa Raye when she said "People think that I'm a gold digger. I'm digging for platinum. I can't do nothing with a Buger King man unless he own about 20 or 30 of them." 


Then again, I really think it's only broke men who hate golddiggers because they can't make the cut. Here's some advice: Get ya money up, babe & you might be able to afford a good woman. 
    

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Praise is Due to the Most Fly: Prada.

 "If you grew up with holes in your zapatos, you'd celebrate the minute you was having dough." - 
Jay-Z "99 Problems


     I balled out, yo. In a very mediocre way, of course. For now, I'm living within my means. My eyes gravitate towards monograms and logos but... I'm not quite there yet. So before I make my way to Neiman Marcus, I'm going to make my rounds at Macy's and see what they've got on sale for me. Still, I've made significant improvements.  For example, MAC got me for $200 this week. And I'll probably go back. The only makeup I wear from your local drugstore is Maybelline's Great Lash Mascara because it actually works better than others I've tried & year after year, it's rated number one.  I have a fixation with quality. & As my eye score the racks, there's so many things I need...  Last Saturday, I didn't want to go all the way back to Jersey to get my things so, I had to buy everything except shoes, but including a bra and underwear. If you ever think I'm acting "brand new", it's probably because I kind of am. 

Again, I [mediocre] balled out, yo:

Saturday, September 18th. 

$19.95 White Blazer at H&M
$139.90 MAC Makeup --  Mineralize Finish Powder in "Dark", Pro Long-wear Concealer in "NW 40", & Cremesheen Glass lipgloss in "DeeLight" 
$46.50 White Dress at Cliquers on 34th. See my Dress!!! (This place is pretty cheap & somehow I spend $46 on a damned dress. Fashion sense is a gift & a curse.)


Monday, September 20th
$93.48 on B.S. tops & cardigans for work at Charlotte Russe.  I actually got this tank top for $2.99 and can you believe this tank top (my fav buy of that day; I got it in the lighter pink) is dry clean only? WhyTF is Charlotte Russe making dry clean only clothes?

Thursday, September 23rd 
$68.00 Jessica Simpson Ciera Grey Suede Booties 

Saturday, September 25th. 
$55.53 MAC Makeup -- Leopard Luex Pallet and  Brow Pencil 
$107.99 on Dolce Vita Vienna Tread Sole Heels  @ Macy's ON SALEE!!!! (Cashier hooked me up with the 10% Visitor Discount, too!)
$80.43 -- Last minute outfit at H&M (I'd show you what a bought, but you can't shop H&M Online: Black velour leggings, & a black top with a leather sash across the top. Simple, all black everything. )
$44.00 Drinks @ Mamajuana Cafe. & NOT because I had to. 


     Here's the thing though, I don't have any responsibilities. Call it what you want. I live with my sister. I don't pay rent. I buy food (oh yea, & I spent $200 at Whole Foods.. smh) when needed. I don't have kids and if I feel like missing a meal so that I can get some new shoes, that's my business.  Call me superficial if you want. I welcome you to say, "Eff Ella, she's fake."  I'm on a diet anyways. Luckily, like Nicki said, my pockets eatin cheescake!! 

Everybody knows I'm a mother-effin MONSTER. (download here). 












      From this list alone, I'm spending $200 in shoes, $200 in makeup and $200 in clothes a week. That's $600 a week to maintain my ego. I mean, I didn't even do the math.  Feel free to check it for me, but please be aware that this doesn't take into account my MTA card, my PATH card, movies, food, drinks at 809 last week, or things like... body wash. & don't count those things cheap.  When I go to the movies, I like an Icee, Dibs, a chocolate and a candy plus a "biggest size you got" Pepsi for my cousin & whatever else his heart desires. As for body wash, my skin prefers Neutrogena (OMG this Grapfruit one works soooooo well, try it.). I treat myself, and my company, well. Very well. 


   Now, I'm not braggin (or am I?) but I just got a new job where I'm treated fairly well. I'm not a millionaire. Nowhere close. But I'm living life. I'm not going to tell anyone how much I make, but I will tell y'all what I spend.  Yesterday, I stood at the Sunglass Hut in Herald Square with a this pair of Raybans for $185 in one hand and this pair of Pradas for $225 in the other.  You don't have to click off the page if you don't want to: they were the same exact thing with the label being the only difference & $40 in price. But... where do you think I was leaning to?  At the end of the day, Thursday is payday and I'm getting these. You might think $310 is too much to spend on a pair of glasses, but I was walking in the bright sun with my boss the other day, too ashamed to put on my cheap sunglasses because he is THAT fly.  Besides, I'm a label whore & I can afford it.

I never pray to God, I pray to Prada. 

     I used to get upset when people said that I'm spoiled, but it doesn't affect me anymore. I get what I want. Either it's given to me, or I work my ass of for it. I get my way. When I go out to  eat with my family, I'm not allowed to look at prices. My brother used to say that the guy who ends up with me is going to have his work cut out for him. My favorite dish is a medium-rare tenderloin topped with lobster tail. I'm only saying that because if they make it, I want it. When I go out with my cousins, I "don't have to worry about nothing." That's what I was told last night... and all nights before. I buy drinks because I can, not because I have to. & When I buy drinks, I'm buying a ROUND.  I don't need anybody's money.

      I'm only going to spend more. The chump change I'm spending now is just a warm up. It's like... stretching. I'm on a real "fuck niggas" trip right now, so I'm gonna surprise myself with Louboutins for Christmas and Guiseppes for Valentines day. IDK what I want for my birthday yet. A bag maybe?

     I'm most grateful for never having to hope that somebody buys me something or pays my way somewhere. Everything I want, I buy.  And when you come from nothing, that is everything. (& That's a topic for a whole other blog.  Read my  Eff the Jones's. I'd rather keep up with the Smith's.)  Forgive me, but I never imagined I'd be able to ball out like I did this week (and I didn't have to take my clothes off or sleep with anyone). That was my first paycheck. Do you understand the damage I'm going to be doing as time progresses and money accumulates in my bank account? Dooo yoouu???   

With that said, I hope Prada blesses you all. Goodnight!

     

Eff the Jones's. I'd rather keep up with the Smith's.


Not only am I fly, I'm fucking not playin. Jay-Z in "So Appalled"

     If I ever ran for office, it'd be for Captain of the Cool Kids. My Platform would be as follows: I was always cool.






ha... Let me stop. 

This is the journey to cool:

     Growing up we had nothing but the roof over our heads. There was a time I had nothing. No one. (Those who know me know the time I speak of, but the rest of you will have to wait on the memoir.) My mom wouldn't buy us anything. My brother used to boost cars to stay fly. I just boosted the clothes themselves.  I got my first job when I was 13 (I think).

    When I was 13, my life changed without my noticing it. All because I starting noticing what I was wearing. You see, I've known my best friends since I was 6 years old. When you're that young, you don't notice what you have on or what other people are wearing. Then... society ruins you. For a while I  ventured off from them. I'm not quite sure why, but I know that there was a difference between us.

Jordans. I couldn't afford them. 

      Where I'm from, time is punctuated with sneaker releases. There's pairs I never had because they came out before I could afford them. When we talk about the fashions we went through, I can't input on some of those things. Luckily, I had an older brother who bought me my first pair of 16s in all black. Yup. That was my first pair.  My big brother put me on the track & I've only veered off to make my own way. Never to go back. I'll admit, I now have a huge ego, but I didn't always. & I'm not self-absorbed. I didn't have things the other kids had. The one thing I had while they didn't? A job.

    I started getting paychecks.  I would work my 40 hours and BALL OUT: Sneakers, sneakers, sneakers, sneakers, sneakers,sneakers, sneakers,sneakers, sneakers, sneakers, sneakers, sneakers, sneakers, sneakers, sneakers,sneakers, sneakers,sneakers, sneakers, sneakers, sneakers,sneakers, sneakers, sneakers, sneakers,sneakers, sneakers,sneakers, sneakers, sneakers, sneakers,sneakers, sneakers. I remember I spent $135 on the green and white 10s and bought a the thin PS2 for my boyfriend the same day. I was like... 17 maybe. IDK where I got the money... actually... I do. lol.

I bought sneakers for me, my moms, my boyfriend. Mannnn,  I'm tellin' you. 

     All I wanted was to get the boxes to pile up from the floor in closet to the ceiling. The more stacks you have, the cooler you are. Trust me, it's the way these kids work. I don't know where we learn this, but it's a rule.  I had so many pairs of sneakers that when I went off the college, I had to send a box full of shoes to meet me there. That box was size of me. 

Then the journey through cool: 


     Recently, my friend and I had a conversation about how girls do their best to look good in the club, and then be "bummy bitches in flip flops" the rest of the week. (Her words lol.)  I used to care. I used to want sneakers. Every color. Every combination.  Now, I am a bitch in flip-flops. But I'm not quite bummy. I'm not walking around in those $5 Old Navy joints... my ALDO Manjarezz flip flops cost me $45 (...well, I was working there so I got a discount, but I spent $$$ that day.)  Thing is, I can't wear Jordans to work. Ever. I really can't wear Jordans ever. Period. No offense to people who do, but it's not practical for me, personally.

     I once critiqued my other friend who wanted to stop wearing sneakers because her boyfriend told her to. I wasn't really judging her choice, I just don't think someone else should ever tell you what to wear. Especially if they're not providing an entire new wardrobe. (That's called being the "face of" something and that requires a sponsor.) Besides, the shit I wear now cost the same amount and, if not, double. If you could see the tags on my clooothhhhheess mmaaaaaannnn. You might not be able to properly pronounce some of this stuff. ha! & Oh... &yes, you will catch me at thrift stores scavenging for labels because... I know what to look for. 

     The people I'm out to impress now don't wear sneakers unless their working out (and they do work out). "These are Prada, but like... last season," said my boss when complimented on her pumps. I work with people who have Louis Vuitton fashion show invites laying on their desks and wear Burberry button-ups under Lacoste cardigans. I stood next to Katie Holmes and (while I didn't shine, obviously) I also didn't look like I didn't belong. I got looked up and down by Kerry Washington and got a smile in return (that made my year). Honestly, I don't want to be cool every again. 

Eff the Jones's. I'd rather keep up with the Smith's.  So when I speak on the money I'm spending and the things I'm buying, (for example in my "Praise is Due to the Most Fly: Prada" post) forgive me. But... I'm full of confidence and dollar signs. My cup might overrun-neth. 


I have a sort of... Kanyistic view of life: 
If that's cool.  My shit's hot.
If that's fresh.... I'm so spoiled it's appalling.
&.. please, stay fly. Now, I can run the earth without interference.


Saturday, September 25, 2010

My Boss Wears Prada; My Life is a Movie.




You see me Fashion Week, front row at all the shows. In your favorite fashion magazines, they feature the Queen. Lil' Kim - "I Know You See Me"

     For New York's Fashion Night Out 2010 I was lucky enough to be with women who could join me in silent meditation as we gazed through the windows of the Alexander McQueen store. The celebrities were picture perfect and the clothing was fantastic, but nothing was more beautiful than the friendships I made on the most basic levels. Good food. Good conversation. Good clothes.

     For four years, I was in a place and around people who I could have these conversations with. My mind has been molded to think... constantly. I have a hunger for conversation. A thirst for other's opinions. I share mine on here without fail, but hearing these people have genuine conversation on morality, faith, love, relationships and marriage --all in a matter of an hour --was and, and always is, fascinating. I get tired of talking about men --rather, talking about men in a base and/or sexual genre. And I love talking about clothes and fashion when people know the names. I didn't point out the Alexander McQueen store, so I admire the girl who did because she understood its importance. Fashion is simply a genre of my life. Now, I am no model --but I know some. I am no designer --but I follow their works. I am no courtier --but I try to make my way to the 12th floor of my building everyday so I can see them at work. God, do I love Fashion. More so, I love people who love fashion.

     Fashion is more than knowing a few designers. When you learn how society and economy effect clothing, there is a deeper level. For example, during the WWII, clothes were dark and had less fabric because materials were used for the soldiers and designers would be fined if they were making things too flashy, especially designers in Europe like Balenciaga, Dior and Chanel. Even now, with the Chloe's House is taking its much deserved place in mainstream fashion, as the modern woman (hard-working, practical, and strapped for cash) has to invest in clothing that can be worn over and over --the trouser. Working women will buy trousers because you can rotate shirts, saving you money and making it seem like you have more clothes than you do.

     My mother sews wedding gowns in our basement to make some extra cash. Have you ever seem someone sew? Put pieces of fabric together to make what you are wearing? Are you aware that there was a time when people had to make their own clothing? My friend Ashley started making pillows for our room once. She made enough for her bed & quit. So every time she says "I'm gonna make..." I say, "You?" It's not to disrespect her, but sewing, and sewing well are taxing disciplines. She knows this. The world wars, and the migration of people it caused, brought hard working immigrants onto American soil where they shared their skills and started up company (or their children did, like Calvin Klein, for example who was making his own coats when a Bonwit Teller buyer came across him.)

     There is more to fashion than the clothes. More places in the fashion world than just for models and designers. Me? I file folders. In 6-inch heels. And my boss wear Prada.

Call me materialistic or superficial... but you probably just don't know your shit. I'm thankful for the beautiful people I've come across who share this with me. MY Brother-In-Law (who's worked in fashion for years) once gave me Prada Anklets. "They're Prada," he said.  "I mean that doesn't mean anything but... it means something."

I know. I know.  & now I'm in the City of Dreams, searching for labels and love. 

Friday, September 24, 2010

For the right cream, I write a hot 16. [DEUCES -The Remix]

   Stop payin' these niggas to write y'all shit. For the right cream I write a hot sixteen -Lil' Kim "N.O.T.O.R.I.O.U.S"

      So, in my 12th grade AP Poetry class and in my Sophomore (in college) creative writing class, we had to start our day with prompts or small writing exercises. So this is my warm up.

     Additionally, whenever I wrote poetry, the white kids would say "sounds so hip-hop!" Unlike Eminem, who says "I shouldn't have to rhyme these words in a rhythm for you to know that it's a rap," no matter what I did, it was a rap. I couldn't get away. So much so, that I refused to rhyme after a while. & I know other Black poets who have done the same to try to attain some level of respect. I used to take offense, but really, for the right cream, I write a hot 16. But I'd never get into the booth unless I was one of the dudes in the picture above.

  But really, though, my friends & I used to remake songs & put our names into it (especially Young Gunz - "Can't Stop, Won't Stop". LOL.) Check my new remix.

---------------Deuces (The Remix)----------------

Used to be Valentines. 
Together all the time. 
Thought it was true love.
But you know Niggas lie. 

It's like I sent my love Fed-Ex
for him to sign. 
No confirmation.
Left a message. 
No reply.

We standing side to side
But it's like I'm left behind. 
Fuck it let's hit the club. 
I rarely dance.
But let's get down.  

Cuz when it's all said and done. 
He's not gone be the one I'ma  go home to. 

I hate liars
Fuck You. 
I'm tired of crying. 
My heart big. 
& It's full of fire. 

You wonder why we never vibin
Cuz every time I ask you questions it's an awkward silence. 

I'll leave my keys on the kitchen counter. 
Honey, 
You bought me shoes, 
not a fuckin diamond. 

Shit is over. 

Think I don't know?
Go and tell ya boys that I'm a hoe. 
& Baby, think of me them nights you all alone. 


----CHORUS---

Look.
You saying I be on that bullshit like Chicago. 
But if I say I'm headed somewhere else I bet your ass will follow.

Deuces? 
I know we have no future in tomorrow. 
Boy you broke.
So you not the toughest act to follow. 

The other men I'm with never complainin'. 
They give me what I want and what I need.
Russell Simmons. 

Meet us at the register. 
Don't trip. 
We ain't at
The Goodwill. 
& if I was 
at least my 
Shit is 
ri-zeal.

You finally noticed it? 
It finally hit you?
Like Rihanna did Chris in the Caddy.
It probably hit you.

Get a new chick. 
I bet she'll be at  20.  
Watching Tyler Perry 
wishing that you never left me. 

And all you were to me?
I don't care about it. 
Soon as a rock hits this finger, 
you gone hear about it. 

Sat and  struggled through ups. And Through downs. 
But I'm jus puttin two up. 
Chuckin up the deuce now. 


I said, "Bye, Bye".

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If you don't know what to say, copy/paste this: SOMEBODY SIGN ELLA NOW!!!!

PS. I really rapped this. IM NIIIIICE.  LOL.