I love dark humor. Even the occasional dead baby joke. And sometimes I wonder if my vagina-having self is allowed to enjoy humor so sick and twisted. Women are supposed to be well-mannered and nurturing, they're not supposed to laugh when someone says, "how do they know Princess Diana had dandruff?…they found her head and shoulders on the dash board." Gross, uncreative and insensitive. I chuckled and I'm ashamed.
"I love black women, I swear I do," said Blood, Sweat and Heels star Demetria Lucas as she spoke to an audience of black women at her book launch event. Those eight words sent my eyes through the back of my skull as I watched Bravo cameras pan over a crowd of successful black New Yorkers while she finished her speech. For those unfamiliar with shitty reality television, Blood, Sweat and Heels is a show on Bravo! that documents the lives of young, affluent black women trying to make it in New York. It stars a bunch of fashion bloggers, former video vixen Melyssa Ford and the sanctimonious Demetria who is constantly rolling her eyes and calling out cast mates for their bullshit, whether it be drinking incessantly, snooping on their boyfriends or not being feminist enough . I tend to agree with Lucas on most issues, but her judgey tone leaves me at a loss. Lucas doesn't love black women like she swears she does. She reluctantly stands in solidarity with a group of women with the same color of skin. Many of whom she can't stand.
I celebrated Easter Sunday with my handsome friend, Brandon. Brandon and I met the summer before our freshman year at Indiana University and we've been friends ever since. I've learned a lot from Brandon about style, makeup and how to get shit for free.99. He does so all the time, unabashedly.
Hosting a friend's first NYC trip is best way to Treat. Yo. Self. I mean, your friend who is visiting. You should probably treat them...
The fashion authority and Miserable New Yorker poster boy turned 51 yesterday. I know you'll never see this Marc, but Happy Birthday. I think you're the coolest. Why? I don't know, I just like your look.
I have mad respect for Harlem. Although the nabe has experienced some social and economic gentrification, it's still predominantly and comfortably black (a hue as scarce as hen's teeth in yuppified Bushwick) and the people are friendly. My friend Eunice lives in Harlem and I had yet to pay her a visit, so when I discovered the first annual Harlem Food Truck Rally, I figured it would be the perfect opportunity to catch up with my beautiful pal. The rally was held this afternoon on Frederick Douglass Blvd and Jerk Shack, Mr Nice Guy, Luke's Lobster, Shorty's, Gorilla Grilled Cheese, Crepes Truck, Hibachi Heaven and Palenque all pulled in to fatten us up.
One bitch's quest to love NYC.