Bad movies can change your life. There was a movie were girls attending a slumber party raced out for a late night snack. The screen revealed several well-groomed teenage girls wearing brand new pajamas as street clothes. Since then some people think it is okay to wear their used, abused and shapeless pajamas as outerwear.
I met a young woman at the grocery store collecting signatures to save a local school. I stopped my mental grocery listing and paid close attention as she explained the petition. Her hair was uncombed. She had sleep matter in her eyes and wore a pair of muddy pink or yellow pajamas. When she finished, I asked why a good-looking woman like her was out in her pajamas with uncombed hair? She lied and said her hair was styled and denied her clothes were pajamas. I apologized even though I knew the truth. I signed the petition and went into the store. When I left she was gone.
Folks wearing pajamas as outerwear has been a source of irritation for a long time. Any self-respecting designer or fashionista can understand my pain. But clothing although important…is not life itself. If my house caught fire all I want to do is escape, naked if need be. Wearing funky looking pajamas in the street could be a cry for help, “I need attention”, “I am lonely” or “I have been kidnapped”. I considered myself victorious when I shamed the woman at the store into leaving. The next time I see someone in pajamas instead of being irritated out of my mind I hope to take a few minutes, open my heart and consider her pain.
Sisters, if have information about clothing drives or give-a-ways please leave the information in the comment section of this entry. Thank you in advance… Sarobi.,
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Dressed and Blessed
Last week while walking home from the library I encountered a fast approaching dog. I am accustomed to taking exercise hikes and usually carry a stick for just such an occasion. Dogs respect a stick but wouldn’t you know I didn’t have one. When I heard the dog approaching I quickly took off my shoulder bag wrapped it around my hand and crouched down in “ninja mode”. The dog was impressed with my quick action and decided to take another route. All I could say is “God is good” because he told to act quickly.
I am a church going sinner saved by grace. Which means I do my best to be nice and I go to church with people who do the same. One thing I have learned is God forgives me when I make mistakes. I go to church to learn more about God and there have been occasions when my clothing has fallen short (pardon pun). “You can worship God naked” but you can also “ worship in private”. Can you remember a bad outfit you know too short, too tight, too low cut, no stockings etc.?
When I make a mistake and my fashion goal of 8 on a 10-point scale looks like a 4. I am woman enough to fix it. I add supportive gear such as: a camisole, bra and/or a lightweight t-shirt underneath a top, sweater or dress. There are times when a garment cannot be saved (no matter what it cost) it is tossed in the give-a-way box or trash bin. God forgives sins and when we confess they are never brought up again. If I get caught looking like a “Hot Mess” I am going to forgive myself and look good another day.
I am a church going sinner saved by grace. Which means I do my best to be nice and I go to church with people who do the same. One thing I have learned is God forgives me when I make mistakes. I go to church to learn more about God and there have been occasions when my clothing has fallen short (pardon pun). “You can worship God naked” but you can also “ worship in private”. Can you remember a bad outfit you know too short, too tight, too low cut, no stockings etc.?
When I make a mistake and my fashion goal of 8 on a 10-point scale looks like a 4. I am woman enough to fix it. I add supportive gear such as: a camisole, bra and/or a lightweight t-shirt underneath a top, sweater or dress. There are times when a garment cannot be saved (no matter what it cost) it is tossed in the give-a-way box or trash bin. God forgives sins and when we confess they are never brought up again. If I get caught looking like a “Hot Mess” I am going to forgive myself and look good another day.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
30 is the new 20... Right?
Eddie Murphy once said his favorite word was “new”. Who wouldn’t want to be new? Have you heard “30 is the new 20”? It means even if you are 30 you can act, look and dress like you are 20. Well, twenty-year-olds dress like teenagers in baby-tees, low cut skinny jeans and flip-flops. Overall their clothes are lightweight and small. Teenagers don’t mind showing their cleavage, stomach or booty. After all it is brand new and it seems nobody minds looking at it. The idea is…“ I can’t help I’m sexy… I just am”. But the 20 year old is playing dress-up and the character is a fantasy chick, a dim witted, sex pot. I call her Candy because her fashion and style invites all suitors to “come and take the candy away from the babe”.
A couple of years ago, I went shopping and found the cutest little t-shirt and tried it on. It was so cute I bought it and wore it out of the store. I felt fresh and sexy “I had it going on” until I caught a glimpse of myself in a large floor to ceiling mirror, “ you talkin’ bout a hot mess”. I looked like “Caught-up Grand Candy”. I ran to the car and retrieved my original top and gave the cute t-shirt to a teenager. This experience made me realize I am not the new 30 or the new 40 but 42. When I want to be “I am grown and sexy”. I know when to turn it on and when to turn it off. Unfortunately, it is off most of the time.
Don’t misunderstand me, I like looking my best but there is a reason it is called my best. Beauty does matter to me but comfort and practicality does too. My fashion goal for everyday is an 8 on a 10-point scale. Sadly, I will admit sometimes I am walking around at 4. I am a real woman not a bombshell, my clothes and accessories provide coverage and help me to be me. I am equally cool, quirky and helpful to my neighbors and friendly as I can be. I am an assistant to the elderly, a toddler chaser, and third party negotiator. I don’t like it when I bend over and my pants to slide down my ample behind. If I address a stranger, I am instantly uncomfortable if they take a tour of my exposed cleavage. The last thing I want to do in the world is walk a mile in high heals. “30 might be the new 20”, but when I was 20 I didn’t mind walking down the street in 3 inch heals trying to look like my feet didn’t hurt. I am wearing my ugly brown shoes, yoga pants and hoodie. I am sexy as I want to be but my sexuality is my secret. When I was 20 I wanted to be a “bombshell”. If I could go back …I would not show all my secrets, spend all my money and give all my candy away. I would take better care my teeth, skin, exercise and eat healthier food.
Yes, I like looking good, I want fashionable clothes a lovely fragrance and sassy shoes. I don’t think it is possible to have too many pairs of shoes? When I look around at the younger women with the exaggerated hair weaves, lace front wigs, acrylic nails, false eyelashes, too little outfit, 3½ inch platform heals and exposed ‘tits’ and ‘ass’. I ask myself, “What the hell happened”? Could it be my fault? When I was living “the 30 is the new 20? Yes, my style and fashion was not maturing and I did not give the younger women anything to look forward too. I made 30 and later 40 look like a graveyard because I was dressing like a kid. But I learned…“it takes a lot to be a 10 everyday and only God’s blessings can make you 20 when you really are 30, 40 or 50”. Grown and sexy folk need to man-up and show the younger sisters how to be soulful, skillful, classy, comfortable and sexy at the… same… damn… time.
A couple of years ago, I went shopping and found the cutest little t-shirt and tried it on. It was so cute I bought it and wore it out of the store. I felt fresh and sexy “I had it going on” until I caught a glimpse of myself in a large floor to ceiling mirror, “ you talkin’ bout a hot mess”. I looked like “Caught-up Grand Candy”. I ran to the car and retrieved my original top and gave the cute t-shirt to a teenager. This experience made me realize I am not the new 30 or the new 40 but 42. When I want to be “I am grown and sexy”. I know when to turn it on and when to turn it off. Unfortunately, it is off most of the time.
Don’t misunderstand me, I like looking my best but there is a reason it is called my best. Beauty does matter to me but comfort and practicality does too. My fashion goal for everyday is an 8 on a 10-point scale. Sadly, I will admit sometimes I am walking around at 4. I am a real woman not a bombshell, my clothes and accessories provide coverage and help me to be me. I am equally cool, quirky and helpful to my neighbors and friendly as I can be. I am an assistant to the elderly, a toddler chaser, and third party negotiator. I don’t like it when I bend over and my pants to slide down my ample behind. If I address a stranger, I am instantly uncomfortable if they take a tour of my exposed cleavage. The last thing I want to do in the world is walk a mile in high heals. “30 might be the new 20”, but when I was 20 I didn’t mind walking down the street in 3 inch heals trying to look like my feet didn’t hurt. I am wearing my ugly brown shoes, yoga pants and hoodie. I am sexy as I want to be but my sexuality is my secret. When I was 20 I wanted to be a “bombshell”. If I could go back …I would not show all my secrets, spend all my money and give all my candy away. I would take better care my teeth, skin, exercise and eat healthier food.
Yes, I like looking good, I want fashionable clothes a lovely fragrance and sassy shoes. I don’t think it is possible to have too many pairs of shoes? When I look around at the younger women with the exaggerated hair weaves, lace front wigs, acrylic nails, false eyelashes, too little outfit, 3½ inch platform heals and exposed ‘tits’ and ‘ass’. I ask myself, “What the hell happened”? Could it be my fault? When I was living “the 30 is the new 20? Yes, my style and fashion was not maturing and I did not give the younger women anything to look forward too. I made 30 and later 40 look like a graveyard because I was dressing like a kid. But I learned…“it takes a lot to be a 10 everyday and only God’s blessings can make you 20 when you really are 30, 40 or 50”. Grown and sexy folk need to man-up and show the younger sisters how to be soulful, skillful, classy, comfortable and sexy at the… same… damn… time.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
The not so notorious Internet
Knitting is my new hobby, interest, and delight. It is a perfect excuse for a lazy afternoon and a soft ball of yarn. Making a warm fuzzy gift is a beautiful expression of love and care. When I die, my knitted pieces will be little hints of who I was and what I did. Outward affectionate does not come easy to me. I hide my emotions with a stone face and a straight back. I am naturally less affectionate and I control my feelings because expressing them would expose me to my eventual demise. In short, the Devil would hop on my head and kill me. The way I show love is with a carefully prepared meal, a music tape or a knitted/crocheted item. After all love is an intangible emotion that can make you do wrong or right. It is hard to look back and feel love that has faded or has died. Recorded music selected for you only; snuggling under a blanket knitted just for you allows one to have a tangible memory of love.
Last weekend a friend and I visited a specialty knit shop called “Knitorious”. A cute little place owned by a lady with illuminating eyes that change to gray, green, blue etc. The store supplies a collection of moderately to expensive yarns, books, and knitting needles. I found the store’s customers cool but the colors and textures ample and encouraging. I took an initial tour to realize the reality of the feast, as one would before partaking in a buffet meal. At the end of my tour, I was approached by the owner and asked if she could help me. I inquired about a magazine, which was being sold at the original retail price. I must have offended her but I assumed a 3-year-old magazine must be discounted. I accepted the price because, I was in a specialty shop and specialty shops can sell specialty things at specialty prices. That’s what you call class, right?
It is my 2nd tour, which brings me to the point of the story. I focused on the bulky yarns, which average in price about $20 a yank (unit), 4 to 5 are needed for a small project. As I walked around I felt as if I was being watched. I dismissed the feeling because it could be the familiar feeling of walking while being black (WWBB). I stroll leisurely and examine completed samples of yarns “knitted up”(completed). I was having a good time until I saw the owner spying my friend’s magazine, as if to suggest it had been taken from the store’s rack without being purchased. My friend was guilty of WWBB. Closed her magazine and waved it purposely to show it’s cover which was tagged as a library item. It was crystal clear; we were being watched, like a mouse hole by a sleeping cat. I kept my hands empty and my movements slow. I asked the owner about books on free form knitting and the purpose varying lengths of circular needles. I did not want her to call the police. My past experience has revealed that it is better, guilty or not to avoid them. I had had all I could take and positioned myself near the door to wait for my friend. I resisted a long-winded customer and eventually chose to sit outside and work on my current project.
My friend soon appeared and we walked to the car discussing a trip to get ice cream. Then I noticed the owner of the shop outside watering flowers. I was rolling my “ripped-out” project into a ball and my yarn trailed behind me on the ground. The owner noticed the yarn and leisurely walked over and assessed it. She had left her store and customers to give us a final once over. Economists are debating the long-term economic value of the disappearance of the small “mom and pop” shops verses long-term value of the large chain stores like “Walmart” and the Internet. Some people may look back with nostalgia but I am not going to miss the racist practices and the bad customer service of the small shops. What if the store owner with the illuminating eyes, changed from a person who stereotypes customers based on race and served people with excited energy for the merchandise? What if "Knitorious" became notorious for outstanding customer service for knitters of all ages, races and skill levels? Then, I would be treated like a customer and not a thief. Until then I will buy my yarn over the Internet because as long as I can pay I will be treated like a customer.
Last weekend a friend and I visited a specialty knit shop called “Knitorious”. A cute little place owned by a lady with illuminating eyes that change to gray, green, blue etc. The store supplies a collection of moderately to expensive yarns, books, and knitting needles. I found the store’s customers cool but the colors and textures ample and encouraging. I took an initial tour to realize the reality of the feast, as one would before partaking in a buffet meal. At the end of my tour, I was approached by the owner and asked if she could help me. I inquired about a magazine, which was being sold at the original retail price. I must have offended her but I assumed a 3-year-old magazine must be discounted. I accepted the price because, I was in a specialty shop and specialty shops can sell specialty things at specialty prices. That’s what you call class, right?
It is my 2nd tour, which brings me to the point of the story. I focused on the bulky yarns, which average in price about $20 a yank (unit), 4 to 5 are needed for a small project. As I walked around I felt as if I was being watched. I dismissed the feeling because it could be the familiar feeling of walking while being black (WWBB). I stroll leisurely and examine completed samples of yarns “knitted up”(completed). I was having a good time until I saw the owner spying my friend’s magazine, as if to suggest it had been taken from the store’s rack without being purchased. My friend was guilty of WWBB. Closed her magazine and waved it purposely to show it’s cover which was tagged as a library item. It was crystal clear; we were being watched, like a mouse hole by a sleeping cat. I kept my hands empty and my movements slow. I asked the owner about books on free form knitting and the purpose varying lengths of circular needles. I did not want her to call the police. My past experience has revealed that it is better, guilty or not to avoid them. I had had all I could take and positioned myself near the door to wait for my friend. I resisted a long-winded customer and eventually chose to sit outside and work on my current project.
My friend soon appeared and we walked to the car discussing a trip to get ice cream. Then I noticed the owner of the shop outside watering flowers. I was rolling my “ripped-out” project into a ball and my yarn trailed behind me on the ground. The owner noticed the yarn and leisurely walked over and assessed it. She had left her store and customers to give us a final once over. Economists are debating the long-term economic value of the disappearance of the small “mom and pop” shops verses long-term value of the large chain stores like “Walmart” and the Internet. Some people may look back with nostalgia but I am not going to miss the racist practices and the bad customer service of the small shops. What if the store owner with the illuminating eyes, changed from a person who stereotypes customers based on race and served people with excited energy for the merchandise? What if "Knitorious" became notorious for outstanding customer service for knitters of all ages, races and skill levels? Then, I would be treated like a customer and not a thief. Until then I will buy my yarn over the Internet because as long as I can pay I will be treated like a customer.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Angels to the Resuce
The Man told the little girl with the old eyes to get ready to take a bath. She could hear the muffled sounds of television in the corresponding apartments and children playing screaming games outside, car horns honking and dogs barking. When the Man spoke the noise became silence. The background sounds were now flat like pictures sitting on a shelf. The light from the sun was clear, sharp and white not happy and yellow. The Man frightened the little girl with the old eyes so she always listened and obeyed him. He sat down on the lid of the toilet and began to run the water and she began to undress. The tile on the floor felt cold under her feet and she moved slowly watching the steam rise and linger. The little girl with the old eyes suggested, “too hot” but the Man ignored her and told her to hurry up. She removed all her clothes and eased slowly toward the bathtub. The little girl with the old eyes gripped the tub with both hands and swung her leg over the side. The water was hot, so she moved cautiously, coaxing her little toes into it. The Man yelled, “Get in the water”. The sound of the running water, the steam, and the voice of the Man together released terror into the room. Which startled the little girl with the old eyes she ignored the burning of her foot and rushed the other one into the water. She crotuched down to appease the Man but she still was not moving fast. The little girl with the old eyes whispered, “Daddy it too hot”. The Man used his hand to and shoveshoved her down into the water. Time leapt into slow motion. The little girl with the old eyes felt the water on her feet, legs, and tummy it burned and stung simultaneously. The pain was too much for her mind to process. Her brain no longer told her body where the water was going as it rushed over her shoulders. It was too late to scream. The little girl’s old eyes rolled up and over into her head, her mind went dark into unconsciousness.
When she opened her eyes a Pretty Lady was lifting her out of the bathtub and another Pretty Lady was holding a large soft towel. They gently dried the water from her legs, arms, feet and hair while singing this verse.
♪ All night, all day,
Angels watching over me, my Lord.
All night, all day,
Angels watching over me ♪
This made the little girl with the old eyes smile. One of the Pretty Ladies asked her to lean forward and told her a secret, She said, “God is our protection and our strength. He always helps in times of trouble”. Psalm 46:1 While the other Pretty Lady tickled her back and whispered, “All my bones shall say, Lord who is like you, Delivering the poor from him who is too strong for him, the poor and the needy, from him that hurt him”. Psalm 35:10
The Pretty Ladies dressed her in a robe of feathered cotton, and took turns cradling her and kissing her sadness away. They told her never to forget “ The Lord Himself has said, I will never leave you nor forget you”. The Pretty Ladies told her funny little riddles and rhymes that made the little girl with the old eyes giggle. Then the Pretty Ladies held a special concert and sang songs about the Savior of love. The little girl with the old eyes tired to stay awake but she became sleepy and began to cry. One of the Pretty Ladies wiped the tears away and asked, “Do you remember what happen the last time you cried?” The little girl with the old eyes nodded her head but the tears continued to fall. She did not want to fall asleep; she did not want to go back. The other Pretty Lady whispered, “ no matter, one day you will grow into your old eyes”.
Nonfiction...
When she opened her eyes a Pretty Lady was lifting her out of the bathtub and another Pretty Lady was holding a large soft towel. They gently dried the water from her legs, arms, feet and hair while singing this verse.
♪ All night, all day,
Angels watching over me, my Lord.
All night, all day,
Angels watching over me ♪
This made the little girl with the old eyes smile. One of the Pretty Ladies asked her to lean forward and told her a secret, She said, “God is our protection and our strength. He always helps in times of trouble”. Psalm 46:1 While the other Pretty Lady tickled her back and whispered, “All my bones shall say, Lord who is like you, Delivering the poor from him who is too strong for him, the poor and the needy, from him that hurt him”. Psalm 35:10
The Pretty Ladies dressed her in a robe of feathered cotton, and took turns cradling her and kissing her sadness away. They told her never to forget “ The Lord Himself has said, I will never leave you nor forget you”. The Pretty Ladies told her funny little riddles and rhymes that made the little girl with the old eyes giggle. Then the Pretty Ladies held a special concert and sang songs about the Savior of love. The little girl with the old eyes tired to stay awake but she became sleepy and began to cry. One of the Pretty Ladies wiped the tears away and asked, “Do you remember what happen the last time you cried?” The little girl with the old eyes nodded her head but the tears continued to fall. She did not want to fall asleep; she did not want to go back. The other Pretty Lady whispered, “ no matter, one day you will grow into your old eyes”.
Nonfiction...
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