It began with a broken mirror, the mirror did not break on it’s on. A hammer did it, a hammer that happen to be in my hand.
An old memory.
When I was a kid -old enough to form memories still young enough for people around me not to notice was forming memories- we were up-country for a holiday with the family. While out in the field my older siblings and mother were helping with the harvest (a lesson in hard work courtesy of mummy) however, I and my asthma were there to provide moral support. I do not remember the specifics of what I said but I remember very clearly the response ‘Segelde wewe’. It was not a complement. It did not apply to boys. It was said with a twisted lip and critical tongue, kinda like when someone says “you’re a feminist aren’t ya?”. I asked what it meant and my mum exchanged a look with my sister that said they knew what it meant but didn’t know how to explain to a non-Kalenjin speaker. The closest they came was in Swahili ‘mujuwaji’ which loosely translates to ‘know it all’ but not ‘knowledgeable’. This is the earliest memory I have of being uncomfortable with being myself.
King Bey strikes again.
Beyonce told us that she is having twins because whatever the project even if it’s creating life, she must top herself with every new attempt. After she posted a series of images on her site, where Blue Ivy blesses her mummy’s belly, Beyoncé hangs out in water and surrounds herself with a bunch of lucky flowers. While the aesthetic is wonderful it is far from random, the shoot is titled ‘I Have Three Hearts’ after a Warsan Shire poem.
Even romance is not safe from the patriarchy.
I am eating bento in a Japanese restaurant in the middle of Nairobi. The warm sake brings back memories of Japan, drunk nights in Nagoya desperately searching the streets for adventure (and food). Sitting across from me is a fairly young man, a political activist who has just gotten done telling me he loves me. We have known each other for less than two weeks. I am unmoved; I change the topic and begin to discuss the exciting complexities of Kanji. ‘I love you’ I scoff internally. A mild irritation is forming at the back of my head. ‘I love you’ he proclaims, I scoff internally. The food is delicious, the ambiance pleasant, I am filled with nostalgia for a home that was never mine. The sake is hitting the spot and I am enjoying the intellectual stimulation my dinner companion is providing and the earlier irritation is beginning to subside. My impending travel plans come up and he crudely expresses his need to eat something I have cooked. I give a shocked and harsh ‘no’. Why would anyone assume someone else is obliged to cook for them? The insult is completely lost on him. The mild irritation is back and is making its way through my whole brain making my ears warm and straight down to my chest. But the night out is almost over and the irritation is at bay, I am not yet enraged.
All I want for Christmas is lots and lots of gifts.
1. Morrocan Boot from Tamzyna Collection.
And they are 20% off right now!
Yes, the dreads are upsetting, but it did not end there.
When I first saw the pictures of the S/S 2017 runway show, I scoffed and was prepared to part with some respect for the designer. In my opinion, Marc Jacobs is a great designer. Jacobs seems to always manage to be playful and startling but not at the expense of elegance so I was disappointed to see this. The use of mainly white models in dread locs to me read like a cheap grab at publicity, which happens all the time in fashion.
Lupita Nyong’o has been doing promotion for Queen of Katwe (not a slave movie) and just announced her October Vogue cover!
Style should be a manifestation of self
The qualifications of a stylist go beyond picking pretty clothes. A stylist is expected to understand the fashion industry, have access to amazing clothes and the sense to mix them with their clients personality. A stylist is up to date with what is in vogue without being a slave to trends. A stylist is adaptable can dress any person for any situation while making them feel and look stunning.
Good stylist have three things in common:
The end of the series!
A short story about love & all its different, vengeful, misunderstood, misinterpreted & selfish ways!
Chapter 6/6 🙂
(Why on earth did I say no?)
Told her to stay put
Instead I’ll go
Put my cape on
Decided to save a ho
(After all she was mine)
I felt the need to be your hero
Despite every time
You treated me like a zero
Maybe underneath all anger I still cared
Maybe this was the quickest way to get you out of my hair
I haven’t felt like a man in a while
I wanted to set an example
For my unborn child
(I needed some way to clear my conscious)
The constant regret was making me nauseous
You gave me a hug
A kiss from Judas
That should’ve been a sign
Why I shouldn’t…
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Colonial hangover + Unethical Pricing = Mediocrity
In 1964 Kenya began to enjoy freedom. However, today we still live in a haze of mental slavery. You see it with a server at the ‘upscale’ cafe who serves the foreign looking table with a speed and enthusiasm distinctly missing from the table with faces too close to their own. Or at ‘it’ pseudo intellectual gatherings where the foreign needle eye opinion is hailed as absolute by locals who should know better.The driving force behind Kenyan culture remains largely external and rarely self-determined.