Plus fashion
10 Questions with Leah V and RV is a good time. We whipped up ten questions at the kitchen table and dumped them in a bowl. It gets real shady. You don't want to miss it.
Watch RV's version on his channel: https://youtu.be/uemgCgI9koA
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Photo: Moon Reflections Photography
As a fashion influencer, I get this question all the time. Especially from straight size individuals. Do you wish you weren’t fat? I know that a lot more people want to ask, it’s on the tip of their tongues, but because they don’t want to offend me they just keep it buried with all the other questions.
“Let’s say in a perfect world you could choose your body. No strings attached. Would you still choose to be fat?” a close friend asked.
The topic was on fat activism and body positivity.
Each time, I pause and think about the pros and cons. Because the westernized part of my mind goes straight to ‘thin is better’ or ‘thin is beauty’ without even hearing any other options. Our minds have been conditioned to immediately associate beauty with fair skin, slim noses, and flat tummies. Thick hair, full lips, long legs. But as I dig further into my own ideologies of the true meaning of beauty through my lens is when the answer starts to reveal itself.
It’d be amaaaazing to walk into a store and they have all of your sizes available in the front and not buried away in the back near the restrooms. It’d be amazing to have more than two or three racks of shapeless clothing (H&M…) to choose from. It’d be cool when you date a guy that he wouldn’t assume that you’re easy with low self-esteem because you have stomach rolls and that clearly no other man wants you because you’re fat and he’s doing you a favor. And we can also assume that it’d be cool not to be asked how many months pregnant you are when you’re not pregnant at all. Or to be trolled on the internet because you’re promoting obesity even though you go to the gym five days a week. Or not be looked at with disgust when you’re clearly nourishing your body with food at a local restaurant.
But, with all that said, I wouldn’t change being fat. Why? Unfortunately, as humans, and especially as girls and women, we always want what’s in. What’s trendy. Our bodies have become trends, objects. The body that was popular in the 70’s is totally different than the body that’s ‘in’ now. So, are we going to alter our bodies every decade to fit the mold of this ‘new’ beauty standard? Or are we going to embrace the curves (or lack of) that we’re working with now?
The true goal is to be healthy and fat or healthy and thin. Not to lose (or gain) weight so the scale can flicker to an agreeable number for other’s comfort. That’s my motto. And my life has been so much more fulfilling because of it.
Plus, the upside to being fat is that I don’t shop at the same stores that my thinner friends go to so that means no embarrassing twinning moments. I’m forced to be creative with my ensembles because my clothing options are so much more limited. Can you say, slayage? When I fall down the stairs, my butt cushion saves the bones from breaking. If I lose or gain five pounds, you won’t notice it. And, of course, I’m a pretty good cuddler.
*Winks at the guys*
xoxo
Photos Courtesy of MJ Chapman Photography
In Boston, my Somali friend and I scarfed down fried pickles and crab legs and chatted about good food, Islam, and being a woman in America. We then ordered these huge desserts that we could barely finish just because.
“Ohh, let me see the photos from your trip to London,” she exclaimed.
I hunched my shoulders and pulled out my phone. “If you must,” I replied because, well, ya’ll know I’m extra.
I swiped over to the photos that I took for this independent Muslim designer, Buno Designs, who makes these bomb handmade kimonos in the UK. The photographer was Parisian and a hijabi and so sweet. And even though I was dead tired from flying overseas, I had approximately thirty minutes to rush to the shoot. I was totally surprised that they had come out so well.
The waitress had returned to the table with our bills and came up from behind my friend who was admiring the photos.
“That’s you?” The white server asked.
“Yes, it is.”
“You a model?”
I raised a brow. “Yes.”
“May I?” My friend handed her my phone. She swiped right, seemingly puzzled by the photos I took. Every once in a while, she’d glance at me then back at the photos. I waited for her to say something off the wall. She finally handed the phone back.
“Where were those taken?”
“London,” I said modestly. “I had a few modeling gigs there.”
“You model with that on?” she pointed to my scarf. “All the time?”
“Yeah, I model with my hijab on.”
Becky crossed her arms over her chest trying to figure out how someone like me could model, how someone my size and my religion could be living that kind of life that she had been told was only for thin, white women. She couldn’t figure out how to compare me to the Muslims she’d seen on CNN. The ones who were very Middle-Eastern or very extreme. Confusion was written all over her face.
“Where are you guys from?” She followed up with her interrogation tactics. This was a quite common question from her kind. She was expecting the Middle-East, because clearly there are noooo other kinds of Muslims anywhere in the world.
“I’m African-American Muslim,” I said with a smile.
My friend replied, “I’m Somali Muslim.”
“Oh.” Becky nodded then after an awkward pause she said, “Those photos are really nice.”
I yearned to reply: I know. But I said thanks instead.
I knew she wanted to pry more into our lives but had other tables to wait. Or maybe she got the very real feeling that her delivery was all wrong and that her presence was annoying us. Whichever one it was, her mind was doing complete somersaults as she walked away. She’d just been taught a lesson on stereotyping.
But this incident got me to thinking about hijabs and why we wear them. And how others perceive a girl in hijab. A girl whose visibly Muslim af.
Wardrobe Courtesy of Navabi
***
When I was younger, not even going to lie, I had major issues with the hijab. It made me standout, made me different. And different wasn’t in. I yearned to be normal. For the most part, I wore it because if I didn’t, I felt it’d make Mom angry, disappointed in me somehow. But I didn’t like the way it made me feel. It was a piece of long, draping clothe on my head that wasn’t that serious, but was at the same time. People had been making such a big deal out of not seeing my hair that I started to view hijab as the problem…and not society and how they viewed differences of other cultures and religions. I was too young to understand that. So, I blamed the hijab.
For me, growing up, the hijab was so closely connected to the identity of being a Muslim woman. We looked down upon girls who didn’t opt to wear the hijab. We called them weak. Ostracized them. Questioned their faith and asked what was so hard about wearing it. I mean, hadn’t they loved Allah? We had been conditioned to predict whether or not you were a ‘good’ Muslim based on a cloth that covered your hair and neck. I fell into that trap, that mentality, until I was faced with the same challenge: to wear or not to wear.
***
“Out of all the kids, I thought you’d be the one to stop wearing your scarf,” my non-Muslim aunt said to me. I was like nineteen. And it hurt my feelings.
I guessed my struggle with it was more outward than I initially thought. Even though, I’d never took it off in front of her, she sensed my indecision. For me, the hijab became safe, a habit. I wore it out of loyalty and not want. I snatched it off in the night when I was going out to party. I just wanted to be without the attachments of it, but it’d always resurface. I’d show my ID to the bouncer and he’d stare at it for a long time. Then glance up at me. My ID showed a hijabi. The girl who stood in front of him was a ‘regular’ girl just wanting to have a good time. One was so brazen to ask where my hijab was. I snatched my ID from him and stormed into the club.
How dare he? I thought.
The next question to myself was, where was my hijab?
***
I’ve learned a lot as I’m nearing the big 3.0. I’m even working on a memoir to showcase the evolution of self. My growth into becoming me. Being ok with being Muslim. Being black. Being short. Being overweight. Being a child whose parentless. And because I’m cool with me, I also understand that others may not be, and that’s cool, too, because that has absolutely nothing to do with me. Your dislike of my choice of hijab, is personal and ignorant.
People wear their hijabs (or don’t wear it) for many different reasons. But the majority of people, including Becky at the restaurant, believe that it’s a sign of oppression. The media has made it so that closeminded individuals have been brainwashed to think that when they see a Muslim woman covering her hair and body that automatically equates to she’s being forced by her evil Arabic speaking father. They have all these notions of you being bald, you being forced into an arranged marriage, you being subservient to a man, and that you absolutely, unequivocally couldn’t be a feminist. All hell would break loose if a hijabi was a feminist. *Gasps*
Deciding. Really deciding to unapologetically wear my hijab for me has been the most freeing and rebellious and feminist thing I could possibly do.
I don’t wear my hijab for others so they could think I’m a good, practicing Muslim girl. Nah. I do it because it is me, it is my crown, my shield. It tells people that I’m strong in my belief whether I say it or not. I’m proud and loud of who I am. And that no bigot shall prosper on my watch. And because I’m so ‘out there’ with it, it makes individuals (like Becky) very uncomfortable. They just can’t figure out how a girl like me continues to defy odds, being different, being openly true, while getting beat down daily for being a minority Muslim.
“They tried to bury us, but they didn’t know we were seeds.”
-- Dinos Christianopoulos
xoxo,
Photo: Remy Roman
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
BTS: Brad doing the dang thing!
More BTS. And it was a scorcher that day!
Photos: Danni Little Skirt: Society +
*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.
Photo: Danni Little + Wardrobe: Society +
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!
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*
The power of the internet.
As a blogger, I’m still baffled that people come up to me or message me about how much they love my blog, can dig what I’m doing, and they can actually quote what I wrote in my latest post. All I can do is smile from ear to ear. People actually read the words that I write! Plus, with the power of social media, I’ve been able to reach people in different countries and even locally that I would’ve never known otherwise. Such a great resource.
I get a message through Instagram from Marcy (pictured above and she took all the dope photos). She tells me that she gets what I’m doing and that she has a few custom pieces made in West Africa that she wanted to show me. So let’s do coffee. Cool with me. You guys know that I can be a friendly person. Umm. Sometimes. LOL.
We set a date and met. She told me that she traveled back and forth from Benin to Michigan with handmade cuffs, earrings, and necklaces to sale.
“These beautiful earrings were handmade by Kastro in her workshop in Benin. She wraps ankara wax print cloth over framework to create a unique set of accessories. Every pair sold provides 1.5 hours of tutoring to a child in need through our TS Education Fund,” says Marcy.
So I love Trois Soeurs for several reasons. They have some dope, quality pieces that will set you apart from the other fashionistas (I’m obsessed with African Print!) We know the individual who is creating and crafting each item (providing ethical and safe work). And lastly, the money is going to a good cause: education for children in Benin.
We are doing a GIVEAWAY!!!
Two lucky winners will win either the earrings or the cuff:
<Rules>
1. Follow @Lvernon2000 and @troissoeursbenin on Instagram
2. Tell us how you’d rock the earrings or the bangles under the blog post (be creative!)
3. Two (2) winners will be picked at random on Sunday the 24th of July 2016 (noon EST) and have the items shipped to their residence within ten (10) of the contest’s end.
*Winners have twenty-four (24) hours to claim their prize and send appropriate information for claim and shipping of prizes. After twenty-four (24) hours, the next winner will be chosen. So keep your eyes peeled. Lol.
***Update*** Having technical issues with my website. So, in order to enter to win one of the pieces of jewelry go to @troissoeursbenin on Instagram and comment under my photo. And the contest is extended to Sunday, July 24th at noon EST!
Wax Print Teardrop Earrings are up for grabs!!!
Wax Print Bangles up for grabs!!!
Pictured above are the items we are giving away. Don't wait! These beauties can be YOURS! Can't wait to see your responses.
And don't forget to check out TROIS SOEURS on social media and shop:
https://www.instagram.com/troissoeursbenin/
https://www.facebook.com/TroisSoeursThreeSisters/
Photo: Reel Clever Films Tulle Skirt: Society +
Eid is my favorite Islamic Holiday. Why? You feel all triumphant because you cursed less during Ramadan, the people who worked your last nerve you managed to NOT go off on, and although you passed out a few times from hunger and thirst, you managed to fast for the entire month.
Congratulations.
Now, it’s time for the day everyone has been waiting for: Eid Fashions. We’ve waited all year long to see which sister is going to pull off that one-of-a-kind red carpet look at the Eid day events.
Here are a few tips on getting ready for the big day:
I’ve seen this happen so many times with my girlfriends. Their looking through the magazines and ohhing and ahhing at the pretty colors. Twenty-eight days have passed because of the indecision, and they rush out to get whatever’s left at the mall the day before. Don’t be that person. Get your major pieces sewed or purchased early. You’ll be much more satisfied and stress-free.
Photo: Lil Miss JB Style Tulle Skirt: Society +
Before, I became a fashion blogger and a wardrobe stylist, the worst thing in the world happened to me. Two years in a row, I was caught wearing the same outfit as someone else. Needless to say, my friends joked about this All. Day. Long. Groans.
Of course there’s no sure way to not have the same outfit on as someone else, but I challenge you to think outside of the box when choosing your Eid outfit. Fashion is fun and daring. Pick a color or a concept and build your outfit around that.
Tip: Shop away from the malls and stores nearest you. Drive out to new stores in other cities because they have a whole array of fresh items to choose from that maybe your neighbor hadn’t thought of.
#tbt 2009
I’ve partook in some hideous Eid outfits (Check out the green monstrosity above). Make sure that whatever you decide to wear you execute it properly and you are comfortable and confident in it.
I want to see you doused in accessories this Eid. Like peacock feather head pieces, crowns, large hooped earrings, midi rings, and statements neckpieces.
Since Eid will fall in the summer, these are a few styles I’d like to see you guys rock:
Colors: Yellows, Reds, Electric Blues, and Whites
Patterns: Aztec prints, stripes, Paisley, geometric shapes, polka dots, and dark tye-dies
Textures: Lace, linen, silk, chiffon, and velvet
Photo: Remy Roman Wrap Dress and Accessories: Peacock Room Detroit
I can't wait to see all of your Eid outfits in the next week! Make sure you hashtag #LeahVDaily
And don't forget to follow me on IG: Lvernon2000
Also, you check out the original post on Eid Glam at Muslimgirl.net
I’m not sure if there is like a real proper term for Body Positivity and when it was actually coined is beyond me, but I stumbled into the phrase like two years ago and was immediately enthralled.
Wait a minute! I didn’t have to hate myself when I was around girlfriends that were smaller than me? I could actually do my makeup and wear a bomb outfit and feel equally beautiful? I didn’t have to worry about what other people thought of my fat ass eating in public? I could love my body and be ok with it and if I wanted to lose or gain weight I could without regret? Sign me up!
So here’s the thing, internet trolls have equated Body Positivity to fat people wanting to glorify obesity. Are you kidding me?!?! Let’s get the record straight. I don’t know any plus blogger, fat activist, or curvy fashionista that openly says ‘hey, be fat and unhealthy or skinny and unhealthy.” Health is always a concern, but it’s YOUR personal concern. I can’t make you stop smoking, make you put down the cake, or anything else. But for you, as a Troll, to imply that I’m unhealthy because I’m fat or that I’m trying to make people obese because I’m confident in my skin is a no-no. R-E-S-P-E-C-T goes a long way people.
Body Positivity means, to me, that ALL bodies should be celebrated: old ones, wrinkly ones, tight ones, fat ones, thin ones, lumpy ones, covered ones, nude ones, black ones, yellow ones, and pale ones.
Don’t knock me because I’m fat and fab and confident in my OWN skin. Just because you believe that you could never be confident at my size is YOUR issue. Not mine.
How can I be a part of the Body Positive movement? Great question. Straight sized people (and even larger ones) are often afraid to join in the movement. But I say, the more the merrier. This isn’t an exclusive club for fashionable fatties, this is a human movement. It’s inclusive. No one should feel on the outskirts of positive movements in the right direction. We’re all just trying to make it day by day.
By just being you, being confident in your abilities as a HUMAN being and respecting and encouraging others to be the BEST they can be, then you’re already involved. Speaking out against fat-shaming or body shaming is a major one as well. If you see someone getting harped on for their size (of lack of) then you should step in. No one deserves to be shamed openly because of a physical attribute. No one.
And when you post your fabulous pics on social media there are like so many hashtags to use to let people know that you have joined the movement. We have #EffYourBeautyStandards which was created by Tess Holliday, #HonorMyCurves, #SelfiesForSelfLove, #NoBodyShame, and #BlackGirlMagic just to name a few.
Here a few more things you can do to promote Body Positivity:
1. Wear what you want, when you want
2. Put as much (or as little) makeup on as you want
3. If you feel like saying some hating ass shit, don’t
4. Own it, whatever ‘IT’ is
5. Smile at other people, a lot
Makeup by Madinah Muhammad (Detroit)
Last month, I was contacted by Amanda Bankston who works with several organizations, including Detroit Passport to the Arts. I was referred to her by a friend, Ramona, who owns this fab vintage resale shop in Highland Park. She said that I'd be a great addition to co-hosting their "Hollywood in Detroit" event at the Detroit Institute of Arts.
Any reason I have to dress up and get my face beat, you know I'm there!
Photo courtesy of Grace Liang
A few other local bloggers and fashion enthusiasts joined me on stage to talk about their businesses and their fashion inspirations.
As you can see, I played the fashion curator here, which I was very nervous about. I didn't know there was going to be an actual stage and a real microphone. Haha. I was also given notes with key points to remember, and I have a really bad memory which added to the nervousness. All in all, I didn't eat much before the show, so I was good and most importantly, I didn't vomit!
Right to Left: Grace, Jason, Me, and Ramona
As you all know, I'm in the D (what us natives call Detroit). And there's not a lot of opportunity here for creatives like LA or New York. So it's a definite hustle. Also, finding a genuine support group is also one in a million. Did my ladies come and support? They sure did. I was happy to see my friends and blogger buddies weather the snow storm to come support me at the event. I love yall!
Plus my friend/MUA came to take my pictures. Hehe. She's the only one who can get my good angles.
Rocking the Sephora Matte lippie in red. It's a really great product that doesn't leave your lips too dry like a lot of matte creams do.
Feelin' myself. Ladies (and gents) I suggest you try it out sometime. lol.
Ain't nothing wrong with a little belly jiggle. Yall feel me?
Ensemble Breakdown:
Turban: Joanne's Fabric Store (Yup, I'm crafty.)
Dress, Accessories, and Stole: Forever 21
Long Sheer Outer Dress: Torrid
Flats: Christian Sirano for Payless
Photos Courtesy of Madinah Muhammad (@theeebeautyqueen)
It's cold in the D! Well, it was chilly in Traverse City, Michigan. My friends and I piled up in a small, white rental car and drove four hours to a rented lake house for a much needed girl's escape.
I feel bad for saying this, but I was looking for some black slacks and somehow, stumbled into Kmart. And as yall know, I have short, wide legs, and no one had anything that fit right. So, I'm in my local Kmart and stumble upon some gems. We've all heard about the Nicki Minaj Collection at Kmart. We might have had some preconceived notions about how her line would be, but I found this sweater in the clearance section that I was delighted to buy.
When I tell you this sweater is everything. It Is EVERYTHANG! Here's why I love it: a nice silhouette, doesn't ride up the back, long sleeves, and the zipper detailing on the sides. It went from the basic sweater look to that Va Va Voom ensemble.
I'm not sure what the Nicki Minaj collection for Kmart will bring for the Spring/Summer 16' but I'll definitely be looking out for any new pieces that I can add to my wardrobe.
Love the zipper detailing. You can actually zip and unzip them.
So now let's go to the second part of my outfit. The jeans! I only own one pair of jeans and they stretch and fit good. Nice length, too. I got those from Burlington. I wanted a darker pair, so I visited my local Torrid. I am obsessed with Torrid. A little pricey, but just hit them with those coupons and you should be good to go.
I bought a skinny jean in regular and it's a size 4. The stretch is nice and I like the length. I've only worn them once, so I'm still trying to 'break them in'. But so far so good. Hooray for Torrid. Hooking up the big booty gals :)
Wardrobe Breakdown:
Shades and Hat: Forever 21
Sweater: Kmart
Jeans: Torrid
Boots: Burlington
Necklace: Claire's
Photo: Davide Anderson MUA: Madinah M.
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.
Photo: Amanda Sweet + Wardrobe: Flossy's Suitcase + Model: Leah V.
Right now, I'm in the experimenting phase of my life. I'm 28. I'm Black. I'm a covered Muslim who models on the side. I write some stuff. And I'm just trying to figure out how to make my small mark on the world...Oh, and the fashion world. This is where it all started.
I've been heavy set, fat, obese, whatever you want to call it for most of my life. There were 'NO' stylish clothes for people like me, not like now. I grew up in an era where there was no body positivity. If you were fat, then you were lazy, hard to look at, never the apple of anyone's eye. Your goal was always to be skinny. Why? Because skinny equated good.
So, I set out to be skinny. To fit into those size 8's. No problemo. I worked out to Richard Simmons, the 70's fat blast. I'd be skinny in no time, I thought. After the workout, I'd ride my bike to the store to grab a candy bar and a pop. After a few weeks, I was no smaller than when I started. What was I doing wrong?
My mother had previously told us that she used to have an eating disorder. At the time, I thought that was sad, but paid no mind to it until I was in the same predicament. Eating a handful of pretzels, a piece of gum, and sugar-free drinks became my routine. I exercised excessively and weathered the hunger pangs and migraines. I remember one day, after a workout, I just laid across my bed and watched the rail thin models strut down the runway. So fabulous and confident. That's when I had the crazy notion that I'd be a model someday.
My mom put my little brother in modeling. He was cute but didn't take direction very well. I'd watch the well-dressed teens go on stage and pose in front of the judges. A smile here, a twirl there. I looked at them, studied them. Then I looked at me. I had crooked teeth. I was short. I was fat. And I was Black. I was Muslim so I couldn't wear the skimpy clothes that would be required for me to model.
It'd never happen.
I lost weight. The wrong way. People said I looked good. Inside I was still that 'fat girl'. I was sick. I compared myself to others. I belittled myself. I hated my body. I gained the weight back and more. I wanted to model. Be apart of the fashion scene, but I couldn't because I didn't fit in the tiny confinements of what society said was beautiful or acceptable.
I hit rock bottom. I mean I was down and out...Years later, I found inspiration in seeing women who looked like me. Who had round bottoms and large chests. They took bomb photos and said bomb things that made me feel good about my double chin and short legs. So I started a vlog, after a few months it failed. I had no idea what I was doing.
So who am I to the fashion world?
I am that black child who grew up not liking herself because the images on the screen didn't match. Not my nappy hair. Not my wide toes. Not my brown skin or flabby arms.
Who am I? I am the one who now walks into a room a demands attention with the sway of my thick hips and the twinkle in my brown eyes. I am the embodiment of every female (and male) out there who looks at themselves and grimaces because of what someone else told them is beauty. I am a force in itself with my own solar system. I walk to the beat of my own drums. I don't need anyone to validate my existence, my beauty, my ugliness, or my aspirations.
I AM ME. Unapologetic. So watch out world, I'm coming for you.
