Photo

Reblogged from tudo bom(b)

Things that make me smile:

See how they're all called "skin tone"? 

Way to go, Urban Armour

 Check out Sociological Images' full post about companies that don't erase people of color with their usage of terms like "skin tone" and "nude" here.

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

 

If SHE's Black, then I'm...?

This is Danzy Senna. She wrote the book I'm reading in Diversity in Black America this week, Where Did You Sleep Last Night? She is the daughter of a White mother and a dark-skinned Black father, but the interesting roulette wheel of genetics bestowed her with phenotypical Whiteness. But get this--she identifies SOLELY as Black.

And okay, let me start this by saying that on an intellectual level, I recognize and applaud every individual's ability to adopt whatever identity best suits them, whatever fulfills them spiritually and emotionally and feels like it "fits". I applaud those who are brave enough to behave unexpectedly and go against the status quo. I am a strong proponent of the idea that everyone should be who and what they are, wholly and truly and shamelessly and unapologetically.

But for all my fancy talk, I find it...difficult to accept this woman as a Black woman. Hell, even as a woman of color. People are going to look at her and SEE White, and while it isn't fair to expect her to be defined solely by the identity others impose on her...I am struggling to find a way to look at her and see that we are members of the same group (well, more than just being American women). If we are both Black women, then...

what do all Black people possibly share?


Part of me is firmly invested in this idea that we must all share something. There must be something that binds us all together. I know that race is a social construction--trust me, NOTHING proves that to me as much as the very existence of this woman--but it's still IMPORTANT to me. But, as a friend pointed out to me today, it's only important to me BECAUSE of the history of discrimination and racism that has plagued my people and other racialized groups. Had there never been racism, there would likely be no concept of race. (Which came first, the chicken or the egg?) So is caring about race just validating the historical White man's claims? Am I hurting us with my pride? Holding myself back with my self-identification? 


No, I can't believe any of that. It would label Blackness as problematic, and that's something I'll never ever co-sign. But a bandwagon I may have to get on is that Blackness is, above all else, a mentality. I think that for my sanity and so that everybody can't just go around claiming it, it is a mentality informed and passed on by at least some genealogical and familial background--you can't just pick up a book about Black peoples and start to identify with any sort of validity. But as I already believe that people of color are generally more likely to understand the world in certain ways, it's not an impossibly far leap from there to Blackness is a state of being. 


The problem, though, is states of being can't be objectively measured or quantified. You won't recognize someone's state of being as they walk down the street. You will recognize the color of a person's skin and try to typify them as such, but I think I need to accept that race runs a whole lot deeper than that. (I had a similar such moment a few weeks ago where I counted one more Black person than I thought was on the Sprint Football team, and he turned out to be Indian.) Because she identifies entirely as a Black woman and associates most dominantly with Black communities, is she not in some ways "more Black" than many Blacks (not that I really like to put Blackness on a spectrum, but for the purposes of this thought experiment...)?

So as I embark on a small journey to acceptance, I will say this: Danzy Senna is a Black woman. I am a Black woman. My African friends on campus may or may not be Black women, depending on how global your definition of Blackness is and how they self-identify. There is diversity in Black America.