Momentum: The Life of a Black Socialite

I had just come back from a long, adventurous, and life-changing trip to London. I got lost on the subway, on the street, had to carry like my entire life on my back. My ankles were sore, my back demolished, and my arms ached. But I had companies and designers depending on me to make those photoshoots happen, to deliver what I said that I’d deliver. To show up on time and produce bomb photos. With no phone, shotty internet, and a bad sense of direction, I made it happen. But when I tell you that I was beyond dead, I had turned into a fashionable zombie. Dark circles under my eyes and the works.

Traveling had taken its toll on my mental and body and I needed desperately to regroup. I’d finally made it back to Michigan and passed out, but I knew with my schedule that I’d have maybe a day or two to recoup.

“You need to rest.” My friend messaged me.

“What’s rest?” I replied.

“You play too much.”

“You know how my life is. When opportunity knocks, I gotta jump on it. I’ll stop when I’m dead or when I start my period. Whichever comes first.”

She sent a trillion laughing emojis.

Neckpiece: Leyton's 

But it was true. I haven’t gotten to where I’ve gotten by sitting down, taking the safe route, watching other people move forward and trying to drive in their lane or hopping in their backseat. I’ve had four failed blogs and Youtube channels over the span of six years. I’ve been used and abused by local (so-called) fashion influencers in the city of Detroit promising glitz and glam. I’ve been side-eyed and at certain points, disrespected by bloggers who thought that I was ‘taking too much of the spotlight’ in a very weak ass fashion/social climate in the city as well as in the suburbs.

I’m not trying to take shots, but unfortunately, Detroit, Michigan isn’t a hub for true fashion creatives. I rarely get paid and certainly others are struggling that freelance model or style or even blog. We have pockets of bomb fashion influencers but for the most part, people who have ‘connections’ (usually white girls) with very little style, get the play. And that’s cool. But we won’t ever elevate to a New York or a Paris level with that type of mindset.

But, I digress.

Cape/Jacket: Forever 21 + Leggings: Lane Bryant + Shoes: Torrid 

In this industry, mostly any industry can you sit still and comfortable and become an icon. Become national or international. The process of creation, invention, and reinvention is painful, it’s slow, and it takes time. It takes failures. It takes guts. It takes people behind you, real people to support. To believe in what you’re doing is going to make a difference. It takes relatability and a certain kind of vulnerability. It takes being able to get ready for a full-fledge shoot in twenty minutes. Borrowing clothes and accessories from a friend because you have $2.14 in your checking account. It takes humbling yourself. Shutting the hell up and just listening. It takes helping others to achieve. It takes changing in the backseat of your car. Changing in a greasy bathroom at a Coney Island. It takes working with a stuck-up bitch you may not like.

Self-worth and value.

I wish that someone would have told me in the beginning to find the value in myself and to know my worth. I went in the door of some places with my head down and willing to do anything for some sort of gain in the industry. Ya know because I was new and I didn’t think what I knew held any weight. I was lesser than this and lesser than that. I hadn’t valued myself so why should I have expected them to? I got used, a lot, and I’m sure the people who had used me in the past are reading this piece right now. But, I want to thank you because you taught me such a valuable lesson. And the lesson isn’t to burst down the door like Mariah Carey and claim that you are the shit, but to go into situations knowing what you are and aren’t willing to do. You’re not being difficult and you’re not being a bitch. You are being a businesswoman and you are claiming, and or, reclaiming your stakes.

Stop saying what you can’t do or what’s impossible. I’m talking to myself as well. We complain and complain and moan and complain. Which is fine, but when all is said and done, what are you going to do with what you have right now? Not what you could have or should have if blah, blah, blah. But what are you, with your two hands, a camera, and a janky set, going to do with the resources that are available to you? Creativity. The best campaigns I’ve ever done have literally been with the smallest to zilch budgets. So, stop saying what you can’t do or where you can’t go. You can. You just don’t want to.

All of this is to talk about momentum, that thrust forward. Right? It’s a valuable key to achieving stuff. Momentum is hard to get. No lie. But once you get into the groove and start to get it, really get it then you’ve got to push it. For example, this shoot with my friend, Remy. Now, when he messaged me, I was dead in the bed and very jetlagged. He says let’s shoot in two days. In my head, I’m like how can I put together two looks when I can’t even string together a coherent sentence? I was backlogged on blogging and my wallet had been stolen. People needed answers to questions and emails were in the hundreds.

Here’s where the push came in. Just for Remy to even reach out to me is humbling. I mean, his work is amazing. Who was I to lose an opportunity for a pro bono shoot with a photographic genius? I sucked it up, placed heavy concealer under the racoon rings around my eyes, and met him at the Detroit Institute of Arts.

Yes, I was tired. My feet burned. And modeling is fun but certainly not as easy as it looks. But I was there, and he was there, and I gave him not 60% but 110% of my energy and zest. And he did the same for me. Then, he made me look like some sort of Baroque painting. He played with shadows and lighting and mood. I fell in love.

Keep that momentum going. When you’re at the bottom of the barrel and life’s piling on top of you, I need you to dig deep in your gut, your soul and with that last bit of energy left, I need you to push to the end. Jump on those opportunities. Stop doubting yourself. Complain less and do more.

xoxo,  

Leah V  

Why I Decided to Become a Plus-Size Model

In this day and age, everybody and their mamas are ‘models’. Thanks social media! Everyone is a CEO of their own one-man company. Everyone is a fashion blogger. Everyone is a comedian or an actor. Or an influencer. And in no way am I throwing shade, but it’s real. And I tell it like it is. This is what I see, every day, all the time.

I am so grateful for social media, because it gave the thriving artist—who wouldn’t ever be considered by mainstream companies—the channel to build a following and show their value in a completely different way.

Frankly, without social media I’d have never made it this far in my blogging career or met the amazing people I’ve met. So, big-ups to Instagram and Facebook!  

So when I started blogging in 2013, I was very, very reluctant to call myself a plus-size model (and sometimes, I still am). Because I wasn’t. I wasn’t signed to an agency nor was I a professional in any way, shape, or form. Then there’s the dreaded stigmas attached to being a model…

Photo: Remy Roman

At shows, people would be like: Oh, you model?

I’d reply: No, no, no. I’m just a blogger who happens to take decent photos. *Laughs nervously*

Even on my worst days, I’d always get the compliment: You are so photogenic.

I’d grimace and be like, umm, do you see my jacked up teeth and round, fat body! I’d think in my head, what are they talking about and that they were probably just trying to be nice.

Fast forward. I went through eating disorders, self-loathing, negative, nasty thoughts about myself and my worth. The people around me started to flee. I hit rock bottom and had no support. The last straw was pulled and I got some mental therapy. Five years’ worth to be exact! Best five years of my life. Therapy allows you to look within and to stop covering shit with icing. The layers started to unravel. And a new-ish me emerged. I mean, she wasn’t perfect but she was a lot better than the old version.

I began to see the beauty in others and within myself. I know, I know. This sounds corny. But I literally hated everyone. And I hated myself. No one knew. But it’s the truth. I was uncomfortable in my very own skin. I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone.

Photo: Brad Ziegler

I set up two photoshoots for myself. Funding the whole thing from makeup to wardrobe. Planning them was stressful yet exhilarating. Then I had my face on, my ensemble was snatched, my turban was on decent. I was nervous. Very nervous. And the camera started to flash and I just gave in. The photographer was like yassssssss. I was like ayeeeeeee.

Then other photographers and businesses started to approach me and ask me to model their clothes, makeup, and accessories.

Now I claim with proudness that I’m an indie plus-size, African-American, Muslim model. And with that said, modeling is about expression and story-telling. A lot of bloggers and models are about that paycheck and popularity. Not all. Some. In the beginning, I did like the exposure and being ‘known’ was cool, but then I started getting these sincere messages from men and women and I paused.

So every time, I do a shoot or a campaign it’s gotta have something the viewer can take from it. That’s why I’m very heavy on the content that I mix with my photos. If you, as a reader, don’t take anything from my words, then I’ve failed. If you look at my photo and don’t feel some kind of emotion, then I’ve failed.

And failing aint ever an option.

xoxo

Leah V.

BTS: Brad doing the dang thing!

More BTS. And it was a scorcher that day!

Confessions of a Content Fat Girl: Late 20’s Reflections

*Covers face* I’ve totally neglected my blog for the past few weeks. I’M SORRY. No, I really am. It’s almost midnight and here I am blogging. Today has been super humid, I’ve been groggy, and I’m looking for a new place. Packing. Throwing away crap I don’t need. And selling the rest. Ugggh!

I hope you guys understand. Life has been a loop but amazing nonetheless. And guess what else? My birthday was a few days ago. #LeoSeason. I plan on doing something fun and chill this weekend. So turn up!

I turned the big 2.9. Yes, I’m a year away from 30. Sounds weird to say. I’m lucky though, blessed, whatever you want to call it. Some people didn’t and don’t make it to or past that age.

But all this ‘growing’ up has me to thinking… You guys know, I’m an over thinker. A DEEP thinker. I like to reflect on what I’ve learned this year, what failures and accomplishments I’ve made, and to share what I hope to achieve in the future. My main goal is to reach you. I want you to learn something from my experiences. Maybe it’ll make your situation better, same, hell, maybe even worse (I certainly hope not). But I want you to take something from this.

Shades: Forever21 + Necklace: Charming Charlies + Shirt: Avenue + Denim Vest: Burlington + Skirt: Society +

Although major changes have occurred, I’m a content fat girl. I’ve never been so at peace despite the chaos going on. It’s really shocking to me that I’ve grown so much that certain things that used to bother the hell out of me don’t even penetrate my shields. And that very fact, I’m proud of. I never thought I’d actually be the ‘Bigger Person’. I mean I’m still petty, haha, but for the most part, I literally swerve any stupidity, bad-mouthing, and non-productive situation that arises.

What I learned this year? Let that shit go. You have choices. You don’t have to partake in anything that you’re uncomfortable with. You are allowed to say ‘NO’.

I’m telling you that it’s a freeing experience.

Skirt: Society +

Perseverance, but remember to take it step by step. I’ve learned to slow it down sometimes, yet still keep it moving steady. As women (and men), we put a lot on our plate. It’s ok to not do something at that very moment. What’s the worst that can happen? Is it life or death? If not, be fluid and allow yourself to breathe and reflect. There’s nothing wrong with taking a moment to reevaluate and then tackle a problem. Even Superwomen needs to rewind.

And the biggest thing I learned and relearn every day is the importance of the company you keep. I can’t stress this enough… We have internet trolls, family members, besties, managers, and randoms constantly reaffirming our fears. You need people around you that will dream as you do. Because dreams are important. I always had people tell me to take my head out of the clouds and come back to reality. I believed them, and I was miserable. I liked dreaming! When I figured out that they were trying to mold and shape my outlook on the world and of myself then I had to start cutting and blocking people from my circle.

Then I started adding people whose energies were supportive and genuine and good. This change caused me to explore more, fear less, and dream as I had done before.  

I thought this was the cutest thing. He wanted to get in on the OOTD action.   

In retrospect, I’ve accomplished more than I ever dreamed I could. Again, I don’t get paid to blog. I make very little money modeling, and I just launched a self-published book mostly on credit card so I’m in the hole. But even with all that, I’m surrounded by people who are ok with going out for cheap food, that can make me laugh until I pee myself, and who add zest to my world.

Money is great. Being married is great. Being attractive is great. But experiences last a lifetime. That’s my goal for the rest of this year and my remaining years. To Experience life and what it has to offer. And I hope you do, too.

xo

Leah V.

I Posted a Picture in Front of the #BlackLivesMatter Wall and the Internet Went Crazy

I used to be the kind of style blogger who didn’t speak on issues out of fear of the repercussions of what ‘others’ might say. I was a ‘style’ blogger; no one wanted to hear what I had to say when it came to politics or religion. I should’ve been talking about the newest matte lippie or what I was wearing that weekend.

With age and wisdom, and basically not giving a fuck, I came to the conclusion that I had become like all the other bloggers. I was a fashionable shell. I had thoughts and worries about the world we lived in, but I never spoke on it. I kept quiet even though the issues myself and my people faced were reality.

In January, I took my social media and blog up a few notches. I rebranded myself as an anything-goes-blogger. Whatever came to my mind about feminism or self-image or blatant racism, I was going to speak about it while adding bomb ass photos to the mix.

Unapologetically.

In Detroit, there’s this amazing Black Lives Matter wall near Midtown that popped up last year after the string of police killings of unarmed Black males. Black Lives Matter is written hundreds of times in white letters and in different sizes.

While standing in front of this powerful wall of words, I found it to be the perfect moment to throw my fist in the air in support of #BlackLivesMatter. It was the fist that many of us stick up when we are trying to make a statement.

When we are trying to push for equality. When we are telling the world that Black Lives Do In Fact Matter!

Society +

I went home and looked over the pictures that Danni took and the one with my fist planted in the air was the perfect photo to post on Instagram and Facebook. I added a caption as well about us as a whole making so many strides towards equality but taking so many steps back simultaneously with the whole racial divide happening all over the world.

I posted it and for the most part a lot of different races were feeling the picture and throwing their fist emojis up. I had a few haters that I had to delete the comments of and block since they wanted to troll my page.

The next day, a popular body positive page reposted the picture with the original caption. It got a lot of hits. Lots of supportive people said that we needed to do better as a country and they were in full support of the message. Then one troll replied: “Blue Lives Matter…”

After that all the internet trolls flooded in with comments like what about Black on Black crime? And someone even said, “White Lives Matter!”

Then people started arguing under the photo. How does one photo of an African-American Muslim blogger standing behind a Black Lives Matter wall start all this ruckus?

Wardrobe: Society +

Why are people so turned off my support of #BlackLivesMatter? How many times do people have to say that this movement has nothing to do with Black supremacy?

Listen…in case you didn’t get the memo, it has nothing to do with us being better than anyone or being wronged more than another race. We are dealing with the issues at hand. Period. And if someone standing up for themselves or for humanity bothers you, then you need to check yourself, and not some hashtag or movement!

EVERYONE deserves freedom of speech. Freedom to walk the streets without being harassed by a cop. EVERYONE deserves to live life that isn’t in constant danger. EVERYONE deserves to be free.

I am Black. I am a woman. I am a Muslim. I am a triple minority. So I get it. Trust me. I have been picked over and belittled and mistreated because one or all three of the above. A lot of us have.

What I want for you, the reader, to get from this piece is that every movement isn’t a personal attack on your culture or religion. It isn’t an attack on cops or White people. It is a movement like all others to boost awareness, to help make a change in an unequal system, and to hopefully one day live in harmony amongst one another.

*Originally posted on Muslimgirl.com*

Natural Makeup Tips For Girls With Melanin

Oh, how I love makeup. I just went to Sephora yesterday and almost had a heart attack because all of the pretty colors and lippie samples. I touched and sampled...everything. It's been a tough ass week. And I deserved it. Spending money that I don't really have. But guess what?! Don't judge me.

So I want to chat about skin and makeup application and my regimen for my caramel complexion. In these sets of photos my MUA, Madinah M., gave me a natural, everyday look. And everything that I know about cosmetics comes from her. So pay attention:

If you don't have eyebrows like me, lol, then you'll have to fill those bad boys in with a pencil. I suggest using shades of brown depending on your complexion. I use Wet'n'Wild in dark brown. Black pencils are waaaaaay too harsh. Don't do it! After you fill them in, use a spoolie (basically, a clean mascara wand) to blend.

After the brows you can do a simple wing line. And there's really no simple way to do a wing line. I'm still struggling. But there are many, many makeup tutorials on YouTube that will help ya out. I like to use the eyeliner pen with the felt tip by Stila. Better precision. Plus perfection takes practice, people! So if you end up looking like a raccoon, at least you can say you tried. Tip: less is always more. Haha

Next, you can do some false lashes if your feeling pizzazz-y.

Get some foundation. I like Estee Lauder Double-Wear Liquid Foundation. It's nice and sheer. Not too much for a natural makeup look. I dab it all over my face in dots then use this soft synthetic foundation brush to blend the shit out of it.

Please. Please. Get the right color foundation. Don't be out here with an ashy lookin' face. Don't know your correct color? Try at least three different shades. The one that blends into your skin seamlessly is the right color. The ones that look ashy is too light and the ones that make you look several shades darker than your real skin tone is too dark.   

Apply a little blush. You'll need two soft, angled brushes. One for the light one and one for the dark one (M.A.C.). The peach toned blush (Klean Colour), I placed on top and then the darker one, I placed on the bottom (for a little contour action). Stroke at an angle, blending towards your side burn.

Apply some gloss or a matte cream lippie. The nude gloss I'm wearing is Milani Bare Secret.

Boom! There you have it. A natural, yet beat face to the Gawds. Hope you enjoyed my little makeup tips for girls with some melanin.

For more makeup and fashion looks follow us: Madinah and Leah V. on the Instagram!

Daily Inspiration: What's Yours?

Inspiration: The process of being mentally stimulated to do or feel something, especially to do something creative.

Synonyms: creativity · inventiveness · innovation       

I don’t use a lot of mainstream media for inspiration because, at times, it’s frankly chocked full of lies and deceit. And we see the same things, over and over again. People using trends and taking them to the extreme where no individuality or originality is even shown. These characteristics still exist. You’ve just got to find something that excites you, then place your own spin on it.

Makeup Courtesy of Madinah M. (@Theeebeautyqueen)

Exploring Pinterest, I stumbled upon a few of Tyra Banks’ photos. I adored Tyra when she was on “Fresh Prince” with Will Smith and even more so when she started America’s Next Top Model. I learned soooo much from watching that show as a teen. Not only is she beautiful but she’s also a businesswoman. I like those ‘not just a pretty face’ types. The ones who have strong wing lines but also has a degree in philosophy.

But back to inspiration. I get inspired by many things: cool people, good books, bad ones, fat girl blogs, and movies. Photos and visits to the museum, pondering old art, and just plain silence. Sometimes, I inspire myself by looking back on all the dumb shit I’ve done and all the situations I’ve handled like a normal person which resulted in not going off on someone who probably deserved it.

I think it is very important to be inspired as well as strive to inspire others. People need that. Genuine inspiration. Because that leads to hope. And with hope, you can do anything and go anywhere and be ok. There was a time where I was hopeless, inspiration-less. It was the worst time in my life. To be in a deep, dark hole. Just stuck. You can’t see anything but that dirt wall. The sun is out there somewhere, but you don’t even know it’s there. That was me. Before I hit the deep end, I sought out help. Which was the best decision I ever made. She made me see again, and feel. I was inspired by the small things like the sun, and friends, and a good TV show.  

Now that I know how important it is to be inspired, I try to maintain that level of mental stimulation at all times. It keeps me sane. It keeps me happy. It keeps the darkness from seeping inward.

Fun Fact: I'm wearing raggedy socks underneath. HAHA.

It’s Friday. Go out and do something tiny. Smile at a stranger even though they may not smile back. Paint your toenails. Grab a scoop of ice cream. Or just sit in your car at the park with the windows down and let the fresh air flow through.

Wanna know what I'm wearing for the Tyra Bank's inspired shoot?

Faux Fur Stole: Forever 21 (Cancun)

Dress: Forever 21 Plus

Gloves: Claire's

Clutch: Target

Jewels: Hubby :)

Evolution of a Black Blogger

The photo above was my first real deal photoshoot for my blog: Beauty and the Muse. It was back in 2013, when I had a change of heart on the whole 'blogging' thing. I saw a few other bloggers have some professional photos on their sites, so I set out to do the exact same thing. But I wanted to be different. Daring. Shocking. I wanted to get the people talking.

Style Theme: Every freakin' color possible. I mean I wanted all the neons. I wished to look like a human bag of Skittles. And I did.

This photo made it's rounds on Tumblr and Instagram. I was pleased. I wondered what else I could do with this thing called fashion blogging.

I had blogged before. Had no idea what I was doing. People thought I was weird for doing it. I just wanted to write and be creative. A few people liked it, but not enough to actual keep the blog going, so I tore it down. Then I had an awkward YouTube channel where I disrespected reality stars, modeled the worst fashions, and suffered a public mental breakdown right on camera. Ugh. So this time, I just was going to put it out there, respectfully, and see where it went. I was going to be famous in no time. Ha!

Or so I thought.

Warning: I never, ever meant to become or aspired to be a blogger of any sort. I was just a black girl who liked fashion and liked writing. 

Anywho, I attended every event in the city. I worked at ghetto fashion shows in Detroit to get my name out there. I was used, misused, and abused by wannabes. Promised lies. I traveled to New York, got a little feature on HuffPost's Instagram page. I traveled to DC and did an awesome plus-size event there. Met some cool people. And then I went home.

I posted about how much fun I was having while going through my own internal struggles, the ones that weren't so fancy, weren't so pretty like the pictures I posted. But as long as I kept up the façade, right? Who cared about a blogger and her issues...

There was something missing. I enrolled in a masters program for creative writing. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. All I knew was that life was too short not to take chances. So I took one that changed my life forever. While in school in Pennsylvania no one really cared about how I dressed or what I posted on social media; they were more interested in me, my writing. Wow, I thought, that was definitely a first. I felt like I was finally at home.

I learned something while going through those highly rigorous two plus years of graduate school; I learned influence. Attention is great. Especially positive. Praise is even better. But what do we choose to do with the influence that we have is the most important of all. And it doesn't really matter what field were in, creative or non, its all the same.

So I pulled back from blogging and asked myself: why are you blogging?

At first I wanted to snatch the campaigns and work with the top people and be noticed by those who supposedly mattered. I wanted to be flown out to the important places and catered to like a queen. I wanted to soak up all the fame and glamour. 

Women, my audience, would message me and belittle themselves and say they wanted to be and look just like me...I was disgusted with myself. Why would they want to be me? Who am I? I posted pretty pictures with no substance. I became a droid blogger just like the others with amazing backgrounds and perfect teeth but with nothing to say. I had influence but not a lick of substance.

In 2016, I re-launched an entirely new site. I have a clean slate. My goal for Beauty and the Muse is to not focus on numbers or stats or saying the right thing ever so perfectly, but to create and build a community of creatives. Black creatives, white creatives, plus or straight. I want this to be a place where we can have open and honest dialogue. I want you, the reader, to take something from me, anything, and share it with someone else. I want my influence to matter. Even if it is to just one person. That's one person more than yesterday.

Let's keep the conversation going. What are some of the ways you've come to a realization that you are, in fact, evolving? I'd love to hear your thoughts.   

Reflection. Growth. Evolution.