The Things I Feel Most Sexy In...

I feel so in touch with my sexiness when my hair is wild and free, when I have on the brightest lip color, a highwaist pant that accentuates my curves and a heel that is high enough for me to strut like I am on a catwalk. Now I don't need all of these things on at once to feel sexy, but when I do have a collaboration of all of these things, I'm ready to kill 'um and make them gag when I walk past! I love being a women...

Wanted More Flava... So I Sprinkled A Little Bit of Brooklyn On My Plate!

Random Street Fashion!

Yesterday morning, as I was in the train station on my way to work, I felt a gust of wind fly past me.  When I looked up all I saw was a green bag that had me immediately running after it.  As I caught up with the owner of this AMAZING piece that made me have a fashion orgasm, I noticed his style and swagger;  I had to snap and post! 

The "Mental" Girl Fight

It plagues me how men aren't as intuitive as women when it comes to other women.  It's as if they only have this gift when another man is involved.  For instance, my man can tell me when another man has interest in me within the first five minutes, if that, of interaction; but when it comes to a scheming woman, he has blind spots.  For most men, it seems, the disrespect or underlying jabs from women have to be blatant.  However, women, like men to other men, have the gift of sizing up another woman within a minute's time and reading their ulterior motives; sometimes we may be off, but the majority of the time we aren't.  I know men who beg to differ, but they aren't women and they can't pick up on the subliminal messages and paralyzed, piercing stares a woman may be giving another.

Recently, I was at an event where I was faced to make a decision to fall back, play my position and get my cool swagger on or go in a broad like NeNe does to Kim, I chose the former.  You could feel the energy shift when I walked in and we embraced each other, only for the sake of the men we love, but as soon as we broke apart I could have drop kicked her like 'ole girl in the black and green.  Throughout the night we two stepped around each other engaging with all who were present and making no contact with one another.  The conversation between us was through our body language, "Keep your ass over there and I'll be good over here", but to a perfect stranger who didn't know us, they'd be oblivious of the girl fight brewing between us. 

I've got to hand it to her, my opponent is crafty and plays the victim card, but in reality she is watching me like a predator does its prey, waiting for the opportunity to throw her next mental right hook in hopes of a public reaction so she can hide behind her fellow cheerleaders and bat her eyelashes in confusion.  You see, I'm like Floyd Mayweather, what you see is what you get.  I'll talk trash and do things to get in your head to discover your weakness and play on them, let you know I know your next move without you knowing mine. It's cute though, watching how I get under her skin and her not knowing what to do in the situation but draw attention to herself.  My man once told me, "Baby, empty cans rattle the loudest..." Since I know how much weight she's pulling, which isn't much, I'll know my next approach.  With no one on either side wanting to budge from the fighting stance we're in, as the announcer for heavy weight boxing matches says, "LET'S GET READY TO RUMBLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLE...."   

The "Yes" Woman

I often question why some women have no self-esteem, no self-worth and it seems as if some of the most beautiful women have this issue.  I wonder what turn of events have taken place in their lives where internally their soul looks like the woman in this picture, worn out and tired, tired of being a doormat and a "yes" woman, but too afraid and insecure to rock the boat with the men in their lives in fear them leaving.

I know of a girl who on paper looks like the perfect catch.  She is well educated, has gone to one of the most renowned schools in the country, pretty, has her own money, car, apartment and dates a man who hasn't even a third of what she has.  Over the years I have watched this woman relinquish her power to make her man feel in control and above her.  I've witnessed many repulsing events between this girl and her man, but one in particular stands out to me.  As I sat in the back seat of "her" car, she came out of her apartment; I watched as she approached with a look of content on her face.  Opening the passenger side door she smiles and says, "Hey babe!" In a low and indifferent voice he responds, "Hey."  I watched them get close as her lips were puckered full on and his puckering only the second before their faces met.  "Thanks for picking me up babe."  (Needle to the record!)  HUH????  Wait... Did I miss something?  It was as if I literally heard the needle scratch the record.  In that instance I was confused saying to myself, "This is her car isn't it?  If she's paying the note, why is she thanking the driver of "her" car?  Shouldn't he be picking her up?  After all, it is "her" car?"  I had never witnessed such a thing in my life, but it seems to be working for the couple who looks happy to the outside world. I can't imagine how conditioned her brain is to serve a man while he reap the benefits of her labor.  Not only is she working overtime in her profession, but she is in overdrive 24/7, trying to accommodate a man, who my male friends say, "Will rag her dry..."

Touching on the subject of relationships, I asked some guy friends if the "yes woman" tactic will get a woman down the aisle, I wasn't surprised when their responses were,"That's not how you get married; you don't wanna get married to a slave; I don't wanna yes woman, I wanna woman with spunk; I wanna woman who is going to tell me when I'm wrong." After hearing them out I say, "You say you don't want a woman like that, but would you leave a woman that supports you financially, gives up her hard earnings and is kinkier than any woman you may have slept with?"  Without delay, "Just because you're doing everything for me doesn't mean I'm happy."  They then had questions for me; with conviction and certainty, more of a statement than a question, they ask, "Has he cheated yet? Because as soon as the next best thing comes along he's out..."  Trying to give this woman the benefit of the doubt I say, "Wait, maybe these people are really happy."  Their last words on the subject were, "No man wants a yes woman, it's only a matter of time before he leaves."

Wanting to slap some sense into this chick for the last couple of years, I know that she is too far gone, the damage is done and what is between her man's legs must be gold and not flesh. But when does she wake up?  When he has wrung her out like a towel to dry?  When she catches him cheating?  Or when she wakes up handcuffed behind bars being featured on the next episode of Snapped?

 

Picking the Brains of Single Black Men

Last night, as I sat in a Haitian restaurant in Brooklyn having great food and conversation with friends, I almost choked on my ice as my male friend sitting next to me opened the flood gates on dating as a single man, "I don't date multiple women, what is dating?"  I looked over at my girlfriend and saw that she was just as confused as I was, which let me know that I heard this man correctly; I had the green light to go in.  "What do you mean you don't date? I'm sure there is more than one women in your life, you don't consider yourself dating them?"  Without hesitation he says, "No, I don't.  I mean look, I'm pretty much a loner and the women I date we hook up and keep it movin'.  I just don't understand when I don't call for two weeks "they"think I'm dealing with another woman."  In unison the women at the table gave an unmistakable, "Uhhhh... YEAH" agreement.  

Wanting to cut to the chase and get to the part of his brain that allows him to think that sleeping with various women and "keeping it movin'" doesn't label him a player, which by the way he denies being; I asked, "So you wouldn't court a woman?"  He laughed and asked, "For what?  Every woman isn't worth courting. If we go out for a couple of drinks I got mine and she got hers..."  With my face similar to the above picture, his friend interjects and asks a question that literally raised me from my seat and made me head toward the door, "Why do you have to court a woman?"

Once the night had ended, my heart was heavy for the single black women out there who are looking for qualified black men.  The pickings are slim if this is the mentality they have to endure.  Call me old fashion, but I believe in chivalry, the man making the first move on a woman, paying when going out, opening doors, pulling out chairs and walking on the outside of them when in the street, but this conversation showed me that if this is how these men are thinking when it comes to dating a woman, chivalry is definitely dead.  Don't get me wrong, I also believe in a women knowing how to do for themselves and illustrating independence, but my goodness the notion of both of us reaching for the check at the same time on a first date is foreign to me and downright disgusting.  And if a woman does reach for the check, it should be an insult to the man she is with and a subliminal message that all she wants to do is pay for this shit and get the hell out of dodge.

Of course these two men didn't see it that way and I was done with trying to school them.  In that moment I shot a look to the couple in our party across the table from me.  As this girl hung on her man like a hanger in a closet all I thought was how clueless and detached she is from this reality of which we were speaking.  And even though I'm in a long term, exclusive relationship, I'm not callous to the struggles of single women looking for love.  I'm just blessed that it isn't me on the other side of the table on a first date with these guys. 

First Saturday at the Brooklyn Museum

At the start of every month I get excited about the fun times I am soon to embark on at First Saturday.  The music, energy, people and drinks are enough to keep anyone coming back, but the mere fact that it's free is a no brainer.  One of the things that intrigues me about this event are the people, they're so eclectic and fearless in their fashion.  You're liable to run into the biggest, natural hair in the world, a short, sexy, funky multicolored cut, locks and even a caesar cut on a woman who is fierce.  First Saturday isn't your typical party crowd, it's mixed, housing people from all walks of life and career paths who want to let go of their inhibitions, dance with strangers, hook up with the hottest male or female they've ever seen and network, but whatever your reason is for coming to First Saturday you better do it fast and make sure the time it took you to get dressed and engage is worth it because you only have a two hour time slot.  Let's get it poppin'!  

My New York On a Friday Night

One of the things I find so exciting about New York is the energy; it's as if this city has a life of its own and could rotate and keep going with or without you, kind of like an independent woman.  Last night me and my girl Tracy Brown, author of best selling book White Lines, discovered another part of New York.  Thinking that we were just going to have a little girl time on a Friday night after work consisting of talking, analyzing men and women, love, life; you know, all the the things that are relevant to most women, we stumbled upon the Museum at FIT (Fashion Institute of Technology) and could not contain our excitement over the turn of the century and Japanese fashions.  After almost being kicked out due to their closing time and my defiance of taking pictures, we decided to just walk the streets and have New York lead us to the next exciting venture.  We ended up in the Meat Packing District, an artsy, vibrant, Sex and the City part of New York.  We were in awe of the street art and the creativity of these artists.  What we thought were paintings of Bob Marley and Ray Charles were really broken pieces of vinyl records.  The pink heart is made up of a collection of spray cans. Who thinks of that?  And I even chilled with Andy Warhol.  The minds of these artists are crazy, complex and creative, making the streets of New York their canvas leaving us, New Yorkers, to pick their brains and figure out how they would come up with such things.  In our exploration of New York we met random people who wanted to join in on our fun and take pictures with us, adding to our experience.  You can never go wrong with this place.  After leaving Meat Packing I just had to take her to a squawky cute restaurant in SoHo, Bar 89.  It's such a great experience for the people who are coming for the first time.  The food and bathrooms are the best part of the restaurant, don't ask, just go.  What we thought was going to be a three hour after work get together turned into a seven hour night out on the town courtesy of New York.