I Get It From My Mama

As a little girl I loved to watch my mother get dressed. I admired the way she took her time in getting ready, making sure every strand of hair was in place and that her makeup was flawless. My favorite part of her process was when she would layer her body with a thin coat of silver body glitter, which I couldn't wait to get my hands on. I'd sit wide-eyed in front of the long mirror in the bathroom and study how she followed the shape of her lips with her red Chanel lipstick. Before putting on her clothes, she would spray perfume, carefully put on her shimmering stockings, slide into her fitted dress and raise her right eyebrow giving a look of confidence and certainty. Like the woman in this photo, she was sexy, confident and beautiful. As a result, I don't know any other way to be...

One of many reasons why I love New York, random thought provoking fashions...

I couldn't agree more with Kenneth Cole.

The Sting of a Man

I was five years old when I first got stung. Vividly, I remember my mother picking me up from school in her apple red corvette. I was anticipating the moment I'd be able to share the events of my day with her. I walked to her car with my head hung low and tears in my eyes. After throwing my backpack at the foot of the passenger seat, plopping down and crossing my arms with my bottom lip poked out the tears started to fall. She had a look of concern on her face and asked, "Baby, what's wrong." Through a cracking voice and sniffles I replied, "Chase dumped me." She instantaneously said, "And...mommy has gotten dumped plenty of times so wipe your tears because he'll be back." I didn't know if she was right or not, but she said it with so much conviction that I was compelled to believe her and so I did. The next week Chase had dumped the girl he left me for and was chasing me around the playground again just like mommy said.

Not much has changed between the mentality of five year old Chase and the grown men many women encounter today. It seems that the game of cat and mouse keep the interest and excitement in a relationship, but when does the chasing become tiring? Someone usually runs out of breath (women) and is hunching over to catch a second wind, but the decision is whether to continue running or gracefully bow out of the race. I'm finding that it isn't only single people who are in a race to obtain the love they may deeply long for, it's people who are exclusive as well. An old friend once told me, "Trudi, the game is over for you because you have a man, you're not out here looking for one." While that may be true, I am still in that race trying to avoid complacency, not compromising who I am and essentially having a balance of fulfillment in my life between the relationship I have with myself and my man.

The sting of a man is inevitable and like these two women illustrate above, men can have you cheesing and full of joy or peeking through the dark not wanting to show your face, but with the right guy, somehow, even in the darkness of growing pains it's worth it. My man once told me, "We chase y'all until we get caught." I'm still in the race, haven't caught him yet, but I think I'm pretty close.

The Discovery of My Inner Beyonce'

As I watched the big hand on the round clock move to the number five and the small hand set in place on the number six, sweat pouring from my face and onto the elliptical, I contemplated taking this step class. I was boycotting step at New York Sports Club on 125th Street in Harlem, New York because management had let my favorite step teacher go. I was determined not to enter another step class at that gym again and stuck to my guns for a couple of weeks. But I was itching to take another high power cardio class again and had heard so many good things about this new step instructor Calvin Wiley. I was loyal to Deazie, my former teacher, who had become a friend to me over the years and felt if I took Calvin's class I was supporting this abrupt decision for her dismissal.

It was finally 6:30 PM and the class had started; I made my way off the machine and slowly walked toward the class rolling my eyes in the one-minute it took for me to leave the cardio area and get to Studio 2. To my surprise the class was filled with women, predominately black, of all ages ranging from their early 20s to 60s, they were set-up at their step and in anticipation for the music to start. My eyes immediately dart to the music station and I see a brown man with a lean body clad in a sleeveless shirt, sweats and a baseball cap that fell below his eyebrows. He was smiling and introducing himself to the first timers and then he turned around to face the music station and an upbeat techno version of Madonna's Vogue blared from the speakers. I entered the room, took a step from the back of the class and squeezed my way into a space telling myself that if the first eight count doesn't catch my attention I'm leaving. After the warm up the routine started and this was the moment of truth. As Madonna's sexy and sultry song played Calvin popped his pelvis while vibrating his behind to the beat. He flung his arms to the side in a T shape then simultaneously around his head, down his face cupping the breast area while popping his chest. He dipped low to the right and rolled his head and upper body up moving his hips in a circle as he leaned back and caressed his chest, then he moved up and down the step swaying his hips from right to left. His face was as if he were seducing each woman who stood behind him, in that moment I was sold. The steps that followed consisted of kicks and leaps, African moves and Beyonce' style booty popping. The routine was sexy and inviting, liberating, fun and captivating. Suddenly we had an audience, the men who were lifting weights stopped and moved to the wide window to watch us gyrate, women in passing looked in awe of what was happening and the energy was electrifying. When the class was over I felt like I could drop where I stood. I had a workout that was fun, effective and didn't feel like work. When I left the gym I internally made peace with the 125th Street NYSC management and made the decision to follow Calvin, that was three years ago.

Through Calvinography I have become integrated amongst a network of friends who come to his class for the same reason I do, to release and feel good about us. My weekly double dosage of his class on Wednesdays and Fridays help me to release my stress while feeling sexy and free. Calvin brings the sexy out in me and as a women I can't think of any other way to feel about myself.

A Brooklyn State of Mind...

This weekend I was in a Brooklyn state of mind. After spending a day of fashion at the Brooklyn Museum, I discovered the happenings of Memorial Circle. It was an impromptu day of fashion, music, laughs and fun!

Breaking up...

It seems the older I get the more friendship becomes complicated. Gone are the days of slumber parties, talking on the phone until the wee hours of the night or just shooting the breeze with each other. Those fun times have now been replaced with men who have walked in the scene, careers that are in progress or the unfortunate reality that people just grow apart.

It was hard for me to accept the death of a fifteen year friendship that was concocted of history, good memories, tears, advice and heartfelt conversations. When the friendship came to an abrupt end my heart was shattered; it's rare that you find all purpose friends, people who you can do anything with, share your most personal secrets, shop, laugh and when there is nothing exciting to talk about in the present, you're able to walk down memory lane about an event or a guy and laugh more about how silly you may have been. It seemed over the last couple of years that our conversations over the phone were just as hilarious and exciting as when we were thirteen. We always had people to talk about (lol), sharing the latest gossip with each other or analyzing the stupid things men do, we were connected even in living 3,000 miles apart, so I thought.

After her brief visit to New york to visit me, I realized that this woman I called my best friend was not the same person I remembered growing up with or was she? I believe I chose to dismiss her flaws and the pain I experienced from her years ago because I loved her and after all no one is perfect. But the reality of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks when she told me, "I feel like I've compromised who I am to be in a friendship with you." It was as if someone punched me in my windpipe, I was speechless and knew in that moment we were at the point of no return. I was forced with the decision to step away and move on. Although painful, I find solace in finding out where we stood and me not giving the friendship another fifteen years of my life. The saying,"Everything happens for a reason" is such a cliche', but in time I'm sure the reason will be revealed, but in the interim I'm left with memories of the past and an abrupt decision, after a New York visit, to break up.