Source: marvelocitystyleLike my new facebook page! I’m looking forward to bringing you all the latest beauty trends and information about mark. products, as well as tips on sprucing up your personal style. Stay tuned for contests, raffles, prizes and more!
These are children that could have just as easily been in the same position as Trayvon Martin. I’m sure, you looke through these and think, “She’s not black,” and, “It’s not the same,” but it is. Too many people overlook a very important fact. Besides being black, besides being young and hooded, besides all of that, Trayvon Martin was a child. Somebody called him son, he was somebody’s child. You might have all heard of, “The black kid that got shot in Sanford,” but not enough people have thought about the child -black, white, or otherwise- that was killed. The light that will no longer shine. The future that we will no longer get the chance to see. This was not a crime against blacks or whites, it was a crime against, not just another human being, but a child.
No.
NO!!!
You WILL NOT take Trayvon Martin’s story and whitewash it.
You WILL NOT ignore the fact that Black children are at risk of being harassed and killed on a daily basis.
You WILL NOT whitewash the way in which people of color raise their children to avoid getting killed in ways that white children are not.
You WILL NOT willfully erase the target hanging on MY back and EVERY single bloody Black person in this godforsaken country.
You WILL NOT lie to the world and act like this wasn’t a hate crime when every single Black mother, every single Black father - hell, ALL parents of color know exactly what went down on February 26th.
FUCKING HELL. People like you pull the trigger. People like you help make the world dangerous for people like me and I WILL NOT let another child die due to your ignorant, “colorblind” WHITEWASHING narrative.
When White children get shot up in the streets for no damn reason, you let me know.
When White folks are pulled over for driving while White, you let me know.
When White women are desperate and screaming for care outside a hospital and are arrested and die in jail, you let me know.
Until then, ya’ll need to fucking quit.
It’ll never be any of ya’ll. But it’ll always be and always has been US.
This is what your white liberal “colorblind” bullshit does.
yeah, after the day i’ve had the conversation i just finished, this just made me burst into tears.
i really can’t deal tonight.
i can’t. at all.
(via blackfashion)
Source:
Kitenge ( plural vitenge in Swahili ) is an African garment (similar to kangas, sarong and kikoy) but a little thicker and comes in vibrant colors and bold patterns. It is often used / worn by women wrapped around the chest or waist, over the head as aheadscarf, or as a baby sling. Kitenge can also be used as a scarf or a shawl on a cold day. .
Complete Outfit: Kitenge from Tanzania as a shawl, H&M jumper, Zara pants, 3.1 Phillip Lim Dominique’ cut-off bootie with a belted ankle strap, Juicy Couture gloves
(via blackfashion)
Source: blackfashion
Fashion Week + The Streets of New York + Photographer Monsieur Jerome
(via blackfashion)
Source: monsieurjerome.com
Wow, I don’t know what to say about this. I’m a HUGE hello kitty fan but this is nuts.
I’m sure @lustfulhustle would say this is going TOO far.
(via missbreyonna)
Source: did-you-kno
<begin soapbox rant>
Another holiday season is coming to a close, and I have just returned from my family home in the south (aka my Mama Pearl’s house). I normally go on Christmas holiday and tune out - it’s one time of year where boredom can be restorative. I don’t have to cook, I don’t have to clean, and I don’t really have to think. But this time I did lots of the latter.
You see, this year was a little different because this year, I am engaged. To a European man. A white, British man, to be exact; although he’d prefer to be called “a Londoner” which embraces a much more multicultural connotation. Did I choose my mate because he was white? Not at all. Does this make me less black or a “traitor” to my race? Absolutely not. Am I trying to say I want to be white? To that, I say, have you seen my nappy ass hair or had my cooking? Would I prefer that he be black? Not particularly. Would I still marry him if he were black? Of course. Did I choose him because I felt a connection and he proved to be a person who gave me the things I felt I needed in a life partner: love, fun, and security? Absolutely. Race is a nonissue in our relationship, although lots of other people like to make it one. Our initial connection happened to be over a very ‘black’ thing: music, and jazz to be exact.
I had noticed that my parents hadn’t been exactly vocal in telling family that I was engaged, but I hadn’t either. For me, my love life is and always has been fairly private and I’m generally reluctant to share the details of it with anyone except my closest bunch. But, an engagement is cause for celebration, no? Well, yes, if my suitor had been black. An aunt had made a comment to my mother [about my fiancé] that I found to be racist, ignorant, and hurtful. I don’t think my mother refuted the comment, and I know she quietly has unexpressed feelings of her own about my fiancé. My parents came of age during the Civil Rights movement, and I understand the pain they’ve felt at the hands of white people, but when it comes to my fiancé and how he treats me, what does that have to do with the price of tea in Wales?
I also took note of the attitudes towards white people and “whiteness”. I grew up in the north, am scholarly and bookish, and in my earliest years went to overwhelmingly white schools. I have a “proper” accent and I like canoeing, asparagus, and hummus (often seen as ‘white’ things). So as a child, my cousins often accused me of ‘being white’. What gets me is that my parents raised me to be “tolerant” (I hate this word) of other races, and provided me with a very integrated lifestyle, so what’s the big whoop?
I’m in the process of writing a book with a friend of mine, and the subject matter is relationships between black women and non-black men, and why the staunch loyalty to dating black men that black women display will continue to leave many of us unmarried and in unfulfilling relationships. The idea for the book was born out of a pathetic story (of a man I dated who was good on paper and knew it, but a sorry ass excuse for a mate) and a somewhat off-color joke made about black men with library cards. While the joke was mean spirited, it brought up a good point - with all of our stories about how a brotha has done us wrong, why is it so taboo for black women to date non-black men?
Before you give me the side eye, the book is not meant to say that dating white men will be the relationship silver bullet. You might still end up happily paired with a black man. I’ve dated my fair share of white assholes, black assholes, and some Indian and Mexican assholes thrown in for good measure. Foolishness doesn’t discriminate. What it is meant to say is that making non-black race your first dealbreaker when it comes to choosing a mate severely limits finding someone that shares your interests and has your best interests at heart.
I started to do some research on the subject and thus far it has confirmed some of my suspicions and has raised even more questions. Also, it led me to an even bigger issue - that of the concept of ‘blackness’ and what that means to black Americans. I’m sure the answers run the gamut, but we all know that actions speak louder than words, and what I’ve sometimes seen demonstrated as ‘being black’ at times saddens me deeply. I’ve also become intrigued with the notion of ‘post-blackness’ and while I don’t always agree with commentator Touré’s philosophies, I’m looking forward to reading his book, “Who’s Afraid of Post-Blackness?” I think he’s opening a door to what I’d like to call the “new guard” - black folks who are aware and proud of their history, but don’t want to be limited by it. Individualism is king in the United States - and I admit, it is one of the things that makes me proud to be an American, but for some reason individualism seems to have a hard time taking hold in the black community.
I’ve always been an “outside the box” kinda girl, and over the years have been berated and ostracized for it. However, “brushing the haters off” and keeping it moving have served me well. I find it to be very narrow-minded and limiting to be defined by another’s set of rules and much rather embrace what makes me shine and makes me be at my best.
In closing, I want to examine is why is there an unspoken need to be branded by a particular set of rules that connotates blackness, and how this extends to very personal choices such as mate selection? I also want to shed some light on the whole ‘battle of the sexes’ notion; one that transcends race, and how this very Marxist phenomenon underminds the very relationships that the majority of us want to cherish and embrace.
</end soapbox rant>
Thoughts?
