Being My Own Hair Inspiration

This winter in NYC has been a difficult one. Depression flare-ups. Interviews for jobs I didn’t get. Unsuccessful attempts to be creative in my spare time. I have tons of ill will towards December and January of this year, but on February 1st, the light finally showed itself. I was offered and accepted a job working for a brand new online lifestyle mag.

My coworkers are beautiful, ambitious women who are supportive of me wanting to steer the content into a more inclusive direction, and I can already feel friendships forming. Since the office environment is pretty casual, I don’t feel pressured to look a certain way, and I’m excited to take out my short, Marley braids this weekend and try a new style.

After trolling Pinterest and Instagram for hair inspiration, I started to look through my old Photobooth pictures, and I’m surprised at how often I’ve changed my look!



As I’ve become more confident in myself as a woman, particularly a woman with "different" hair, I’ve embraced new styles that I wouldn’t have worn in high school or even college.

 

In just one year I've rocked my fro, straightened it with a hot comb (ahh, never again!) and wore a wrap-around braid, tried cornrows, a braided bob, long Marley twists, and micros. The biggest surprise is that I've felt confident and beautiful with every style.

Friday night I have a date with Neil deGrasse Tyson's Cosmos, a healthy goblet of wine, and two hours of taking out my braids.

So - what should I go for next? Clearly I'm down to try anything! ;)

REVIEW: A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki

In Ruth Ozeki's A Tale for the Time Being, Nao is lost in her time and found in ours. She is an excitable Japanese adolescent whose personal effects are jettisoned onto the shores of a secluded island near British Columbia. While walking along the beach, Ruth, a struggling writer, happens upon a sealed plastic bag that had protected a book by Marcel Proust, a number of handwritten letters, and a sun watch from the erosive seawater during its wayward journey. Ruth takes the bag home and spearheads the rescue of Nao’s material remains.

When Ruth opens the hollowed out edition of Marcel Proust’s In Search of Lost Time to discover the dense French prose replaced by white pages filled with bubbly, purple handwriting, the reader is immediately swept up into the narrative magic of this novel.

Quick review of The Lowland by Jhumpa Lahiri

THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS

“You must really love her." An elderly woman had remarked after she’d watched me read the last page of Jhumpa’s Lahiri’s Interpreter of Maladies and immediately pull out 2009’s Unaccustomed Earth from my travel bag.

We were waiting for the perpetually late Hampton Jitney on a humid Friday afternoon in July. I was nannying out there five days a week. It was the summer of 2012, and the best respite from entertaining two boys all day was through reading.

Now I'll be honest  - as an aspiring writer, Jhumpa Lahiri’s skill for the short form is anxiety-inducing. How can an author be this good? is a question that had plagued me as I devoured her cache of work that July. Could I ever be this good? had quickly followed.

So, as you might’ve guessed, I wanted to love her latest work, and I bought it from my favorite bookstore, Three Lives, the day it came out in September. 

You Should Read The Infatuations

It's been quite awhile since I've posted. I moved within Brooklyn, so the stressors associated with packing my whole life into reusable grocery bags and FreshDirect boxes prompted me to take a little break. I'm back now and living in Crown Heights with my boyfriend and a tiny kitchen mouse. Ahh, New York. 

Hat: Target // Belt: Primark // Jumpsuit: Thrifted from Buffalo Exchange

Today is my day off, and I've put on this amazing jumpsuit I bought two years ago for a Christmas party. I love it because it requires no bra, has huge pockets, and despite the color, it's really breezy. It's the perfect laying around outfit because that's what I'll be doing today as I wait for the exterminator to come and take care of aforementioned mouse + whatever pests are lurking behind my stove.

Jewelry: Catbird knuckle rings, bracelet thrifted

I'm OK with staying in for most of the day because I'm excited to make a dent in Javier Marias' newest book, The Infatuations. He's a Spanish writer with an enviable pedigree and his writing will grip you. This is the kind of book that will force auditory reactions from you. I kept "Ohhing" and "Ahhing" at his beautiful prose on the subway yesterday and more than one person asked me if they should pick it up. Also, if you listen to NPR, then you know John Powers fangirled over this book in his latest review. His adoration was warranted. The book is written so well that you'll want to force your friends to read it. I'll leave you with an excerpt.

They seemed to fulfill that role for each other; and although they were clearly married, I never caught one of them putting on an artificial or stupidly soppy expression, like some couples who have lived together for years and make a point of showing how much in love they still are, as if that somehow increased their value or embellished them. No, it was more as if they were determined to get on together and make a good impression on each other with a view to possible courtship; or as if they had been so drawn to each other before they were married or lived together that, in any circumstance, they would have spontaneously chosen each other -- not out of conjugal duty or convenience or habit or even loyalty -- as companion or partner, friend, conversationalist, or accomplice, in the knowledge that, whatever happened, whatever transpired, whatever there was to tell or to hear, it would always be less interesting or amusing with someone else. Without her in his case, without him in her case. There was a camaraderie between them and, above all, a certainty. 

Cue the "Oh, damn!" Now go pick it up and let me know what you're reading, too!

Seeing Fruitvale

Dress: A boutique on Spring Street // Belt: Thrifted

I wore this to see Fruitvale Station on Sunday at the Angelika after learning about the Zimmerman verdict. At first it felt too instructional to go - trite even - and I resisted leaving, but the uneasy feeling in my stomach regarding the outcome wouldn't go away. That a defense team had successfully argued that a 17-year-old boy, being pursued in the night by a man with a gun, had "weaponized" the sidewalk causing the aggressor to suddenly turn into the victim is mind-blowing. It seems that Justice and Reasoning fell into the same black hole Logic did at the beginning of the trial.

Why I Celebrate the 4th as a Black American

Blazer: Uniqlo // Flats: Old Navy 

I'll keep this post short and sweet like my trip to Boston this week. I went to the city on Monday to visit my boyfriend's family. I've never been before so I would've like to stay longer, but money, jobs, and other constraints made that difficult. Those reasons left us with one full day to take in as much as we could.

Bra-less Summer

Dress: Urban Outfitters

Summer might bring an influx in street harassment (Yes, I mean harassment, men - you're being vulgar and scaring me. Not complimenting me), but I am determined to have a bra-less summer in support of the mounting awareness of female toplessness and the Go Topless campaign. This loose, gauzy dress from UO has just the right amount of slinkiness for me to feel quite free. Unfortunately, I do not have the courage go to fully topless in the streets. However, my boyfriend works at the Highline and he claims that some women sun bare-chested at the park, so maybe on a warm night when there isn't a huge crowd I'll bare it all. 

New Braids, New Look

Blazer: Uniqlo // Shirt: Everlane // Belt: H&M // Pants: Zara // Hat: Target

I went home to Philadelphia last weekend to get my hair re-braided, and I'm so happy with the look! Anyone who has gotten braids before knows that it's a long process. The slightly thick braids I got took about ten hours to put in! I watched so much daytime TV that I was happy to come back to the quiet of my my cable-less Brooklyn apartment. So far everyone's been very complimentary, but I also have to tell people, once again, to NOT TOUCH MY HAIR. Yes, I know the braids are pretty and "fresh" looking, but please stop putting your grimy hands all over them.