No lie I kinda want this shirt.

Reblogged from come correct

In the flesh

This one's from the random things that piss me off files:

"Nude" or "flesh" colored clothing. Also sometimes referred to as "Body Beige," at least by Maidenform bras. 

*takes a deep breath*

I have a radical concept for you, people who design such clothing. Are you sitting down? I think you should be sitting down, because this shit is really. fucking. out there. Okay, are you ready? 

SOME. PEOPLE'S. BODIES. AREN'T. FUCKING. BEIGE. 

That "nude/flesh" color doesn't actually even match the skin of the model its on, so how do you possibly have the audacity to claim it's the color of the flesh of every human being walking this green earth? WHERE DO IDIOTS COME UP WITH THESE IDEAS?! DO NO PEOPLE OF COLOR WORK FOR YOU, OR DO THEY JUST HAVE NO SAY IN ANYTHING?!? 

What in the FUCK, may I kindly ask you, is wrong with just calling the various shades of this color "beige" or "tan"? Or if you get some kind of a kick out of the tiny bit of kink involved in linking these shades with actual human bodies, why not have Nude #1, Nude #2, and Nude #3 in various shades that might vaguely correspond to the bodies of people of color? Why not also have Body Brown? 

Oh, hmm, maybe because that would be recognizing people of color as empowered consumers who'd like to see their needs met. Or recognizing that we exist at all. Because if you're claiming that those shades are the end all be all of nudes, fleshes, and bodies, you've effectively erased not only our voices, but our physical selves.

This post was inspired by this lovely image, which I've reblogged from  el odio por amor

 

"I have nothing to wear."

I can understand how this statement might be viewed as a convenient excuse or a cop-out in some situations. Like, if you have your entire wardrobe at your fingertips to choose from at your convenience and are actually overwhelmed by options and really mean, "I can't figure out what to wear." Or if there is no specific dress code for whatever you've been invited/asked to go to and you could legitimately spray some Febreze on something in the laundry hamper and call it a day. Or if you have the time and extra spending money to go shopping and buy something for the occasion. In any of these cases, you legitimately have no room to be making excuses.

But if you're, say, on vacation with a finite amount of clothing, and didn't pack, say, short dresses or miniskirts or high heels because it is December and your friends have never wanted to go clubbing before and you don't own a miniskirt anyway, then when your bestie invites you to her sorority sister's birthday party at this fancy club she doesn't think you can wear jeans to and all you brought home was jeans and the party is in three days, which includes NYE and appropriate getting-over-your-hangover time, I think it's a legitimate rationale behind which to at least think about declining the invitation. 

My friend seemed to disagree, and so I ask you, friends and people of the internet: Do you think not having anything to wear is ever an acceptable reason to not go somewhere/do something?

It has come to my attention

That I really have no idea how to construct a professional wardrobe. I have a few pieces I've rarely worn that I bought before my Chicago internship but wound up not needing because we were basically a no-collar workplace minus a few days when we were superprofessional and I wore my interview suit, but I have no clue how to start putting together a collection of things to pick and choose from to wear to work each day. And the time to start doing that is now, because the applications are out and the interviews are coming in. I had a phone screening today for a position at Mathematica Policy Research, Inc., and they want me to come down to DC in a few weeks for a formal interview. (Keep your fingers crossed for me!) The real world is fast approaching, y'all, and my closet is woefully underprepared.

Do I start with suits or with blouses and pants/skirts? Are open-toed pumps appropriate for the office? Does it vary from office to office? Last time, my office culture rendered all the clothes I had bought basically useless most of the time, so maybe I should wait until I know exactly where I'm working and what their office climate is like. But I feel like I'll be able to shop more effectively if I start early! Are there staple pieces that are a definite must that I can begin with? I WANT TO HIT UP THE AFTER CHRISTMAS SALES, Y'ALL. lol


But seriously. Any advice on building a professional wardrobe would be much appreciated.

Every time I see colorful cords,

I am more convinced that I need to own some.

Reblogged from Fuck Yeah Curls Curls Curls

 

That skirt!

Reblogged from The Style Sample

I find it more than slightly ironic that I'll have to wait til I'm a professor of Sociology to be able to afford to shop at Anthropolgie, which is where she got that skirt from.

Style crush

Reblogged from For the Fabulous and Frugal

Though I would probably exchange that scarf thing for a chunky necklace of some sort.

Things I Want: Yellow Pants

Reblogged from Pretty is something you're born with.

"You never know how much shit you have until you have to move it."

That's what people always say, right? And as a person who moves a substantial percentage of her belongings approximately three times a year (oh college life), I thought I'd become quite familiar with how much shit I have. 

But when I was packing yesterday, I decided that I should go through the clothes sitting in my drawers/closet that I hadn't worn in a long time, and I found tops I legitimately hadn't thought about since freshman year, maxi dresses I probably won't ever wear again, shorts that don't fit, sweaters I hate, an old winter coat, tops that I need to stop pretending fit...to make a long story short, I filled two trash bags with clothing that can be sent to Goodwill/The Salvation Army. And I'm even having gotten rid of all of that, I'm still bringing a medium-sized suitcase, a small suitcase, two duffel bags, and a garment bag full of clothes with me to school. And on top of all of that, I have a separate (albeit much smaller) 'professional wardrobe' that is staying in a drawer in my dresser at home til interview season rolls around in the Spring.

And [though this should perhaps happen more often] I'm not sure I've ever felt so disgustingly privileged. There was a time in my youth where I thrifted not because thrifting was in, but because my family had to. When exactly did I go from being that girl to a girl who is giving away a sweater from Macy's? Macy's used to be "too rich for my blood." My mom still says that. She also won't own anything white because it'll get too dirty, and I just packed a pair of white pants (No white after Labor Day "rule," you don't OWN ME!) When did I become a person who had the means to revitalize her wardrobe a little bit each year? 

Now don't get me wrong, I love that I can do this. I love that my clothing can continue to reflect my personality as I grow and change and come into my own. But I suppose I'm just realizing right now that my life is full of extraordinary luxuries. Some day the necessities of my life will be less taken care of by the institution(s) in my life and I will have to spend my own money on things like food and keeping a roof over my head. I'm starting the food thing a little this year, even, in preparation. I just, in loving my freedom and ability to wear a different shirt every day for more than a month (probably more than two if I existed in some season-less space where t-shirts, tank tops, and sweaters could be interchanged at will), I also want to recognize how the current circumstances of my life have spoiled me. 

But the most important part about this spoiling, this privilege, is that it demands conscientiousness and responsibility. I just started decluttering my bedroom and will wind up helping somebody take care of some bodies. So the next time you're bored laying around or something, go through your closet/dresser/the mess under your bed and see what is no longer serving you. Let it serve someone else.     

Clothing I need in my life:

Reblogged from 18° 15' N, 77° 30' W

Everything the woman on the left is wearing, really, but particularly a bright-ass yellow sundress like that. I love yellow, and things that pop in general.

Style crush!

Loving the color-blocking! (Wow, I read enough blogs about fashion that I know what color-blocking is...)

Reblogged from “Pretty is something you're born with.“

 Also, her hair is obviously gorgeous. And I want that necklace to appear in my jewelry [shoe]box like, yesterday. Thanks.

Fashion goal

Earlier in the summer, I talked some about thinking about the direction I wanted my clothing to go in. How my fashion choices could reflect this growing up that I'm trying to do. And I have decided that my next step should be to start owning and regularly wearing pants that aren't jeans. I have one pair of cords that I enjoy, so maybe I'll get more of those. I can also move towards trousers that aren't too professional-looking, and...uhm...yeah I'm gonna need some help with this. Stay tuned.

What does one wear a denim shirt with?

This is also obviously a hairgasm:

Reblogged from Pretty is Something You're Born With

 

I approve wholeheartedly of this message:

Originally featured in T Magazine, reblogged from Natural Belle:

Solange Knowles

Les Nubians

Juno

Corrine Bailey Rae

 

Sigh.

*goes to Forever 21's website because she thinks they sell really cute stuff*


*clicks on Tops* 


*filters by size X-Large* 


*sees ONE MEASLY FUCKING TANK TOP* 


*remembers why Forever 21 mass-marketed standards of beauty piss her the fuck off*

Reblogged from Treasured Tresses

Generally, I hate ads that bear no relation to the product being advertised.

You know the kind of ads I'm referring to: young pretty people having fun fun fun for 25 seconds and then a screen about how this ad is for the jeans/sneakers they were wearing. Usually this makes me feel like that small segment of my life has been wasted even more spectacularly than a commercial usually wastes small segments of my life. Sometimes, though, it can be really funny--foreign countries manage this well--like in this banned condom commercial. (Though I must state, for the record, that it isn't really cool to insinuate that this child wasn't wanted/isn't loved.)


Today I learned that these types of commercials can also be kind of cool and inspirational-ish. Maybe I'm just in a cheesy mood, but I'm kind of sad Levi's pulled this ad due to criticism about its ill-timing due to the London riots. 

I want my grown woman game

to be on her level in the near future. HUGE style crush right now:

Reblogged from 18° 15' N, 77° 30' W

 

Grown-Folks' Business

A lot of my Atlantic City adventure yesterday with K, A, and I revolved around grown-folks and the concept of being/becoming one. 

Like all trips to AC should, ours started with blowing lots of money hitting up sales at the Outlets. We went to H&M and G by Guess, then K wanted to check out the Gap, Ralph Lauren, [side note, I'm lolling at Oxford's attempts to get rid of the Oxford comma and WILL NEVER LET IT GO. NEVER.] and Nautica, then my aunt hooked us up at Banana Republic (the whole store was 50% off and we got 30% off on top of that!), and I am not embarrassed to admit that I went to Old Navy on the way back and got some good deals there too. But K had never been to the outlets before, so while we were walking around he kept asking me what kind of good stores they had. I told him to tell me where he usually shops and I can tell him if it was there or not, but he said he doesn't even know where he usually shops anymore. This led to a conversation about fashion styles growing, changing, and maturing as we get older. We are 21-year-old about-to-be-seniors at Princeton who are destined for big wonderful things in the very near future...is it time we started dressing towards that future? Is the era of the graphic tee coming to an end in our lives? Does it have to? This conversation reminded me of a post on one of my favorite blogs, Black Girl With Long Hair a couple weeks ago about "Buying Grown Woman Clothes". And I just don't know how I feel about this whole change I'm evidently supposed to be ready for. Clothes from the stores that K wanted to browse felt either unnatural to me or like they belonged to 10-years-from-now-Professor-Maya, not 21-year-old-student-Maya. One day when I have a real job in the real world (let's pretend academia is the real world for a second), I can buy a $40 shirt and a $52 skirt and not feel as though I've committed a crime against my wallet. Until then, however, I will do my best to stay under $20/article of clothing even if it means I replace things a lot. I'm not ready for a wardrobe that'll stay with me forever. But the question, I guess, is should I be? And if the answer is yes...do I care? 

Then fast-forward to the show itself [which was phenomenal, see the previous post]. The first words out of K's mouth when we walked into the House of Blues were shock at how adult an environment the venue is. It's a standing room only, dark, interesting blend of Harlem-Renaissance-era and crazy-shit-from-the-70s black art on the walls, painted ceilings, three bars. It's the kind of place you dance during the show. This was a grown-folks' music hall, and he didn't feel old enough to be there. I said K, we are grown folks, and he said he felt like he was skipping school. The four of us were definitely some of the youngest people in the crowd. This was the kind of show people got dressed up for--onlyforthegrownandsexy dressed up, not slutted up--and I felt a little like I should have brought a dress to change into like originally planned. The DJ called out: "If you 25 plus make some noi-ise" and I swear we were the only people who didn't. [Side note: it was weird making noi-ise when the DJ called for single ladies too. K shot me a look like damn. What can I say? Fact: I'm not in any way happy about the reapplicability of this status to my life, but #Iwasjusttrynahaveagoodtime? I know what he meant though...it didn't feel right. Maybe I'll think twice next time.] What really made me feel young was the fact that drinks at the bar were RIDICULOUSLY EXPENSIVE ($13 for a Long Island. $14 for a rum and coke. BITCH PUH-LEASE.) but people were getting them like they were free! A noted that the guys standing in front of us bought so many drinks that they spent more on alcohol than on tickets to the show, and evidently someday that will not be ridiculous to us. It was weird being surrounded by people in their 20s/30s/oldheads and realizing that a) you are actually a part of that first group of people, even if you don't feel like it, and what really struck me was b) we'll be doing things like this for the rest of our lives. Someday some other youngins will come in and see us and wonder if they're old enough to be here. I guess most of the people in our range of this generation were at the Rick Ross concert...we have a grownandsexy musical taste. Going back to the day's earlier thoughts, I loved looking at the range of styles sported by the women around me and wondering who I'll grow up to be. In semi-related news, never in Jersey have I been surround by so many naturalistas! I guess it takes some grownandsexy funky eclecticism along the lines of Erykah Badu's amazing voice to bring us out of the woodwork. 

Anyway, I'm pondering this: I can accurately say that I feel like an adult most of the time, especially more recently as I've done all sorts of adult things for the first time (note to self: I have a utilities bill to pay), and I can say I'm a grown-ass woman, but last night I felt like I was around ACTUAL grown-ass women and thus wondered if I'm really there. I wonder if that wondering ever goes away. My mom says even she doesn't feel like a grown-up sometimes...

2nd 30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Six: Letter to a Store

Dear Charlotte Russe,

You have been T's favorite store for quite some time. I was getting fairly sick of you recently, though. I've drooled over your shoes for a zillion years, but you consistently only carried shoes up to a 10. Strike one. You have the cutest bras I've ever seen, both don't carry them in big enough (or supportive enough) sizes/styles for the girls. Strike two. Your clearance section has been getting less and less cheap, which is unfortunate. And last time I was there, there was a small clearance rack, a medium clearance rack, and a large clearance rack--no love for the extra larges. Strike three. 
But then, you had a little change of heart, Charlotte Russe. You have made a serious move in my favor, and for this I applaud you. The last time I was there, as I was lamenting over the lack of an XL clearance rack, I noticed a collection of fall boots on a rack in the middle of the store, with a large sign advertising that they were on clearance for $4.99. I shook my head at the fact that I had purchased a very similar pair of boots elsewhere for almost $40 this past fall, and rued the day my feet grew past a size 10. And then T ran over to me with a pair of flats that were a size 11. And my shock and curiosity provoked me to inspect the boots on the rack...ALL OF THEM WERE AN ELEVEN. EVERY SINGLE PAIR. 
Confused as to what was happening, I bought three pairs before someone could pinch me and wake me up from this dream. Then, as I was casually windows-shopping (my term for browsing the websites of various stores I frequent without really intending to buy anything, aka a cure for boredom) I clicked on Shoes on charlotterusse.com and discovered that LO AND BEHOLD, SIZE ELEVEN WAS NOW AN OPTION ON THE DROPDOWN MENU. The world is a changed place.
So I thank you, Charlotte Russe, for recognizing that large-footed women wanna be cute too. Now if we could get the same thing going for large-breasted women, you and I wouldn't have any more problems...

Maya

2nd 30 Day Letter Challenge--Day Four: Letter to Something You Have that Belongs to Someone Else

Dear Hong Kong T-Shirt,

T accused me of thinking about your owner when I suggested this letter topic. She's not wrong--that's a 24/7 practice, haha--but there were other things I could have written to, I promise! But you win because you're his and that makes you special.
It's becoming clear to me that I will never know how I came to be in possession of you. Adorably sneaky little shirt, you wormed your way into my laundry basket during the last few days of school and knew me well enough to know I wouldn't fold my laundry after washing it but would rather bring home the contents of the basket as such, thus only discovering you after I lolligagged around the house for a few days and then decided I could be bothered with silly thins like unpacking. I guess that makes you a pretty smart shirt. I was also pleasantly surprised that, unlike his HS hoodie, you actually fit me. Well, I suppose it is the life goal of every t-shirt to be worn as much as possible, and if that was in fact your intention, then I must say well-played, because as soon as I discovered you and that you fit, I decided you were my new pajamas for the summer.
Now I make sure to only do my laundry during the day, so that you're available for sleeping in every night. I would pack you with me if I were to go on vacation. I know it's all in my mind, but feeling you on my skin, and knowing that you are his and that my body is where his body once was...you make me feel like he's not so far away. You give me that peaceful easy sleep he gives me. You feel...right, and I'm glad mysterious universal forces brought you to me. And evidently he thinks you look good on me, so everybody's happy.
I think the fact that you're a Hong Kong shirt is kind of funny: it shows so clearly to anyone who knows me that you do not belong to me, and to anyone who knows me well enough to have listened to me gush about the person you do belong to since February, it screams the name of the person you do belong to. The more I think about it, it becomes clearer that he might not be getting you back anytime soon...but even so, I don't think you will ever become mine in the way I've appropriated other people's belongings in the past. Nope, for however long I keep it, you'll be a little part of the adventure he's taking me on, a simple little thing that reminds me of him. (I wouldn't have it any other way.)

I'm glad you're here to help me through this distance thing. 

Love 爱 (<-- Look what your owner just taught me!),

Maya