Showing posts tagged with “queue”
Once upon a time, I had these silver glitter, open-toed, ankle strap, wedge platform sandals. I found them at Ross Dress For Less (a discount store that Lesley visits whenever she visits Florida because she doesn’t have them in the frozen Northlands of New England) and spent under $40 on them. They were magical.
I wore them with opaque black tights. I wore them with boot-cut jeans. I wore them with a gnarly homemade Bride of Frankenstein costume that could have gone a lot better than it did.
The wedge platform added about 6 inches to my usual 5’4”. And that 6 inches added a whole lot of confidence and swagger to the rest of me. And that was their specific magic. (I told you they were magical.) Even when only the toes peeked out because I was wearing some ridic vintage maxi dress, I knew those shoes were on my feet and I loved how they made me feel.
Basically, I love talking about shoes. Tell me more about yours. And share links, please.
(Source : randomgirlnz)
It’s Sunday & I’m flossin like a BOSS!!!!
Que las vaya bien esta semana!
La Chica Mas Fina
“Quattlebaum argues that hip-hop, with all its swag, has a rich a history of weird, a long line of artists subverting gender norms just as they have done in “whiter” genres like glam rock and pop. This is a community with room for Cam’ron and his pink furs, for Kanye West and his leather skirts and Céline women’s wear, for Tupac and his immaculately groomed eyebrows. Even the most explicitly homophobic rappers regularly accessorize with more jewelry than a Tiffany’s window. “Do you not think that with all that flamboyant imagery, gay children were not getting turned on to, like, what was going on? Or not relating to it?” asks Quattlebaum. “It’s like, who is really fooling who?”
Michael Quattlebaum Jr. putting on a push-up bra and becoming Mykki Blanco onstage is fundamentally not that different from André Benjamin putting on a polka-dotted bow tie and becoming André 3000. As for the much-debated “authenticity” issue, Quattlebaum has zero patience for such policing. “I know what ‘keeping it real’ means,” he says. “Everyone knows what ‘keeping it real’ means. But when you’re an entertainer, you’re not supposed to be keeping it real. No, I am not ‘keeping it real,’” he says emphatically. “And none of you are.”
He sounds a little sick of reading (and being interviewed for) “queer rap” trend stories such as those that have appeared in recent months in Details, The Guardian, and Pitchfork—the endless chronicles of Le1f, Zebra Katz, Ocean, and Odd Future’s DJ Syd the Kid. And he takes offense at the idea that they are all “struggling for acceptance” in their community. “Do you guys realize that if the music wasn’t good, this would be nothing? That your culture piece, that your trend piece, would be nothing?” he asks. “It’s not that I am trying to derail you from all of the glorious political implications, and the connecting of dots, and the feeling you have that this is something brand new—but it’s not. “It’s like, no. My fans are 15-year-olds on Tumblr who get all of my references,” he continues. “If I was struggling to find acceptance, I wouldn’t have a fucking booking agent.”
this retailer sells a halal nail polish. this allows for oxygen and water to go through the nail, which makes it acceptable to wear during prayer. spread the word.
“Being a relatively modern creation, nail polish remains obviously unaddressed by early Islamic sources. But the general consensus in the Islamic community is that praying with nail polish is impermissible because of the waterproof barrier it creates on nails, which prevents the wudu ritual from being completed five times a day.” (source)
Intent has not now and will never mean shit.
Because if you didn’t “intend” to stab me in the stomach, my wound isn’t going to magically heal and we all will get up and prance away into the sunset with rainbows shining out of our ass.
Intent isn’t shit.
Own up to your mistakes. Learn from them.
And then move the fuck on.
I don’t give a shit about your misguided intentions.