Optimism among chaos.

Hello darlings.

As the partner and I are settling into our new home I’m starting to have some optimism about an increase in our quality of lived life and by extension I’ve been thinking about things I want to do for my health, my skin care, everything.

I really am looking forward to purging more stuff so I can start over. I’ve replaced some of my skin care and make up. It feels strange to actually have a do over in reach. After probably another grand in bills and moving costs I’ll be able to really get started.

A few days ago I realized that this feeling, this desire to make home is very overwhelming to me. At 41 years old, I have never felt like I had the right to make myself a real home. I’m anxious about it, I’m terrified honestly. I have to ask my partner a million questions. I ask him about how much things cost. If it is reasonable for me to want something for our home. If it is okay.

I’m looking at things for my home that I like. That will make it feel cozy and like I belong here.

Y’all.

When that is not something you grew up feeling, or have been poor enough to either be houseless or have housing insecurity, it is scary.

For instance.

There is a local to me indigenous blanket maker(s). I was looking at their website the other day and saw this blanket. I can picture it on the wall in my entry hallway, right across from the door. The fact that I can see it in my mind is astonishing to me. I am thinking about having art. Having pretty things that mean something to me.

This feeling extends to my bathroom. I’ve been thinking about moving most of my make up stuff to palettes because of how I want storage to be. I’m thinking about the galaxy shower curtain I found and having a beautiful galaxy, pink, purple and black bathroom.

I’m hopeful and scared.

I find home set up terribly intimidating and I swing from wanting many shiny household items to being terrified and not wanting any. What kind of towels do I buy? Should I get the nicer rice cooker? What about kitchen shit? I don’t know.

A new set of anxieties is settling in. Things that cost money that I have to replace. I’m going to need to replace my phone sooner than I wanted to. I still haven’t gotten a new ID. The cost of stocking up on our health shit, cost cost cost.

I’m overwhelmed and exhausted and afraid but, I have this hope that things will level out.

What else?

I’ve gotten my skin care somewhat put back in order. My skin is recovering from the stress and frankly I wasn’t taking great care of it. Currently I’m about that glow up. I’ve switched from foundation to something else, review coming in a few weeks and my skin care routine has settled back into my bedtime process.

I’m still feeling pretty unsettled and low key freaked out. I have extra bills and our budget is looking a better. Living inside those two things is weird and hard.

In other news, if you are in Seattle/area I’ll be reading at Margin Shift later this month. Come through.

And if you are so inclined you can check out my latest freelance piece here. If you want to keep up with writing stuff, check my writing biz blog over here.

How not to Break Beauty.

Over at bookface, I ran across a post from the make up company Wet N Wild. Ahem. Note the brown skinned folks in some of the posts/photos.

Love the idea of a lot of what they do. No cruelty, vegan yadda yadda. BUT, most of their face products don’t come in shades appropriate for folks darker than beige. I think one of the foundations comes in a few shades of brown but, come on.

Their new mega cushion foundation literally comes in fiftyshades of beige.

Not long ago plus size retailer Universal Standard did a giveaway of free tees. From their website about us page:

We’re here to break the plus-size fashion industry.
We will accomplish this by making beautiful, quality, modern, elevated essentials for women size 10-28.
We will tear down existing barriers by doing this at democratic prices, and by turning away from fast fashion and all of its waste, inhumanity, and disastrous impact on the environment.
We will use Universal Fit Liberty to shut down the size-bully living in the head of every woman who doesn’t see her true self in the mirror by giving her the leeway to change her body without penalty to her style, or her wallet.
We will create clothes that will erase the style barrier between her and her smaller-size peers.
We will welcome her to our showroom and give her the peace and luxury of a one-on-one session with a stylist.
We will create stunning imagery and thoughtful editorial content because we want her to know she has the right to expect it.
We will say to her, ‘now you can,’ and make it so, in every way a brand can.
And when her interaction with US is over, she will say:
Finally!

The teeshirt I got for free is normally fifty dollars. For a tee shirt. A TEE SHIRT.

What do these things have in common?

This is what happens when capitalism wants to play at activism. Lane Bryant does it, lots of cosmetics companies etc do it. THey want you to feel good about shopping with them on the tickly idea that you’re being part of a movement.

However, if we examine these things closely we find the problem.

It is very rare that the about us, or hashtags actually match up with the brand. Wet N Wild for instance, their hash tags imply accessibility but if we look at what they offer, if you’re not in the fifty shades of Becky range, the choice is deeply limited. They cash in on the cachet of having WOC models/photos but don’t put in the effort to make their product accessible to those people.

Universal Standard is doing something that is almost the same. Just like every other plus size brand, their mission statement implies that you the fat customer are getting some special amazing experience. What is funny is that a lot of fat people are absolutely excluded from jump. If you aren’t of a particular economic class, I doubt you can look at your bank account and say, hell YES get me that fifty dollar tee shirt.

If you are over a size 28 well, too bad so sad.

This is a problem and has been for a long time. Capitalism likes to play dress up in order to make us feel good about having to participate in it. A lot of people want to believe that by buying a shirt from a store that uses progressive sounding hashtags they are really doing something radical.

They aren’t.

This is what the commodification of the lowest level activism looks like. This is what it looks like to use your economic privilege to try and seem more radical.

The fact is, a lot of people, especially those involved with not sparkly or pretty activism are not the demographic here. A lot of the Fat Activists I’ve known for at least 10-15 years, couldn’t afford to vote with their wallets that way. And in terms of clothes accessible to fat folks this is what happens.

Brand X offers body posi sounding line of clothing that is overpriced tee shirts and ugly stretch knits. Folks don’t buy it because it is expensive and ugly. Brand X says, OH WELL WE TRIED U UNGRATEFUL FAT HOES. Brand X goes back to their usual bullshit and get to say, well the market isn’t there.

Make up companies do it with dark skinned folks ALL the time. High end brands want to say that Black women especially don’t buy their products. They make two shades of brown, lots of BW don’t buy it because there are way more shades of us than that, brand says SEE WE TRIED.

These things have gone on for years. They come in and out of fashion and frankly this is why I am very reluctant to vote with my wallet. For me while I do love the idea of voting with my wallet, a lot of the time I’m just not in a position to or frankly I see through too much of the initial shiny RAH RAH LOOK HOW GOOD WE ARE.

I have a lot of friends who are very determined to shop ethically and I think that’s great. It is wonderful. What’s not awesome is the idea that all of us can do that to the same degree. For instance. Probably ten years ago, I remember a big long thing in the fatshion community about not allowing folks who shopped at Walmart to post outfit photos because it encouraged shopping at Walmart.

We all know Walmart fucking sucks.

Some of us know that and shop there out of necessity. Let’s look at a common necessity. Panties.

Now I personally am fond of the Fruit of the Loom Beyond soft briefs. If I were someone who wears a size 30-32 (according to their size chart)

13 56 – 59.5 30W – 32W

We can assume some stretch in the 56-59.5 hip measurement. Now at Walmart you can get a pack of these for $12.44. Now if we shopped with ALL BODIES type thing in mind we might look at Lane Bryant. A similar style of panty is available but only up to size 26. For 10.50$

26/28 14-15 46-48 51-52

Now in this example the person who buys the Walmart draws in a size 13 is not only saving money but they have access to panties their size.

I don’t believe that the person who chooses the Walmart drawers is ethically bankrupt or doesn’t care about how shitty Walmart is. Sometimes, you just really need some damn drawers.

And that is where a lot of arguments about ethical shopping or voting with your wallet fall apart for me. Often there is just a lack of nuance in terms of how these things work in real life for a lot of us.

Marginalization can have a major impact on how we buy, what we buy etc. I think that conversations and actions trying to deal with trying to do our best under capitalism are so important, we need to learn to be more inclusive and listen when our friends say yo this isn’t gonna work for me.

For instance.

If you’re not a fat person and you insist that folks don’t shop a certain brand that goes beyond say a size 24, think about what that says to your size 26 or 40 friends. If you’re someone who is into make up, if you do reviews of say a line of foundations, say hey this does not come in colors made for brown people.

If you work in the has influence area of fashion or make up, bring this shit up. Ask those questions.

Ask if we are breaking beauty, where are our products to support that idea? Why don’t we have products for this person we’re saying is awesome?

I’d like to see our conversations about ethical consumption become less if you don’t do these things you suck type conversations and dig more into accessibility and how reasonable it is to expect folks to all have the same ability to impact these things.

I think when we make these conversations less about doing the most to be right and more about how to live and function and feel like we’re able to make the best decisions we can in our unique circumstances, we’ll be more effective in figuring out how to enact change.

That’s all for now.

PS

We are still not moved. Life is a mess so posting will remain very sporadic.

Femme Files- Playing with my make up

Let’s talk beauty today my loves.

One of the things I’ve learned about myself is that my love of make up is something that fulfills some very specific needs. It lets me play, when I was a baby potato I loved playing dress up and doing a full face of make up. I could spend literal hours carefully trying to replicate make up looks from magazines. I have lots of good memories of this.

One of them was when my Mom was a hair model for a small salon. On select days, she’d pack me up and we’d go to the salon and she’d get her hair done and do a shoot. There was a make up artist who after seeing me gently looking in his kit, set me up at a station and I successfully duplicated a shiny red lip/smokey eye combo. I loved him, I never made a mess. It was magic to me then and is magic to me now.

Once I got over hating make up for a while in my 20s because I couldn’t afford Mac and drug stores usually carried only beige and dark beige I started playing again. Sometimes it works, sometimes not. Lately I’ve been deep diving my stash for funsies.

First let me show you some old tries from years ago.

This one is from 2008ish? It was my first try at emulating a youtube tutorial. It was done by Leesha from xSparkagex (whom I still follow because she’s delightful):

hulkeye

[image description: close up of a brown eye. There is green and yellow eyeshadow on the upper lid, purple lining the lower]

Back then I was often too shy to post my make up experiments more publicly. I was in a make up lovers community on Livejournal that was so empowering and people were often so kind.

I didn’t wear a lot of color for a couple of years and I don’t know why. Lately I’ve been ALL about playing with stuff like mixing finishes, loud lips.

Let’s have a looksy.

20171003_120648.jpg

[image description: the author. Brown skinned femme wearing a long straight dark wig, smokey eye and sparkly red lipgloss]

This look was to go with my new wig. I have been into really undone brows (I almost shaved them off…let’s not talk about it) and here is my technique for a messy grungy smokey eye. You need something dark or black as a base. For this look I used a Sigma Black eyeshadow base that they don’t sell anymore. I also have this set from LA girl and it is the BUSINESS. It works better for me than the UD primer potion and most expensive shadow primers I’ve tried. So use the primer to rough in the shape you like then pack on black or dark eyeshadow and blend until you like it. I used the glittery black from this Maybelline The Rock Nudes Palette. For an inexpensive palette, I’m pretty into this one. Some of the shades you have to work with but overall, it is a great little thing for those dark colors. There are shimmer and matte finishes. I’m into it. The lipgloss was from the Wet N Wild Halloween collection and is super glittery in meatspace.

Don’t sleep on Wet N Wild, it is not the crap of my 90s teenagerhood. They are cruelty free and a LOT of their new stuff is the bomb y’all.

Next lewk.

20171031_061916.jpg

[image description: brown skinned femme wearing their hair in two plaits, black cat eye liner, matte black lipstick and smiling]

Technically this was my Halloween costume. Being an Old Goth means all I had to do was dip in my closet and voila, insta Wednesday Addams. Generally speaking, this is a go to I’m tired and still wanna be cute look. I have literally been doing the same cat eye for probably 20 years. Some days the wing is real big, sometimes not. I like to play with variations on a cat eye. I’ll do the upper wing in one color and the lower in another.

Some of my favorite combos include:

Black on top, messy burgundy on the bottom. I LOVE doing black on top with a metallic green on the bottom.

If you don’t have nine million liners for color pro tip.

For a neat line, do your primer or base color then use a firm small brush like this to pat on the color. Don’t swipe, pack. You can even use the edge of a sponge applicator to pat pat pat in the color. An angled brush like this one is pretty easy to use.

For a messier/grungy application, use a fluffier brush. For my eyes, I will start with the precision application and go in with a pointy blender brush like this one to blur out that shadow. Pro tip about brushes. You don’t have to use expensive brushes to do your make up. My go to daily use brushes are all from E.L.F.

My favorite foundation brush is this one from ELF. It’s their ultimate blending brush and it just works so well. I think I paid like six bucks for it. I have a 25$ one that is like it but I just don’t use it as much. It doesn’t perform as well. I have a TON of their eyeshadow brushes, the white ones. I love them.

I also love the Real Techniques brushes you can find in the drug store. My FAVORITE thing they make is this silicone eyeliner brush. Y’all. This shit right here was a game changer for me and my liner. It was weird to get used to but since there are no bristles, you can get some amazing fine control.

The thing about make up to me is that, it’s not permanent. It is for some of us, how we brace ourselves to deal with the world. Yes sometimes I do stuff that is questionable with my looks and it’s fine. I can take it off or I can rock with it.

Lately, I’ve been trying to learn how to do that neon liner look that was all the rage for a minute. I have yet to master it. I’m also trying to teach myself to put lashes on STILL and shit is hard af.

IF you wanna follow my make up shenanigans follow me on insta for mostly make up, food, random shit. Next time we’re here, I’m gonna talk about skin care I’m lusting after.

 

Life Makes Shit Hard

Hello frands.

I’m currently ass deep in feels and stress so…stuff.

I’m trying to find us a new place to live and it is so frustrating. If you’re new, I live in Seattle and the housing here is plentiful but expensive. I have some deal breaker things aside from affordability and I found a few places that are perfect but, weren’t good.

One of them is in North Seattle, not far from a spot I lived in before. Now, I like the neighborhood. Pretty, quiet, library, grocery and whatnot close by. HOwever, last time I lived there every morning when I got off the bus after work, someone would watch and wait for me and call the police.

Think about that, this was before cops were shooting Black folks because they are afraid of us and I still had months of terror. One of the times I was stopped by the police who were called, I broke down in tears because I had to go to the bathroom, I was exhausted and just wanted to go home. The cop told me to get off the bus somewhere else. I was followed, I had men throw garbage at me from a car while yelling racial epithets. The idea of living there again makes me feel panicky.

BUT, the one place I found has all the things I need. It is in my budget (as in, is about as much as I’m paying now) there are two different buses, it is flat, the store is close by and it has laundry close by and is accessible for my partner. Technically, it’d be great but the idea of living in such a White neighborhood, especially in a nice building in a nice area is terrifying to me.

I know where I want to live. But, in order to do so I’m going to have to add at least 25% to my income to even qualify. Because, that is a thing here these days.

I’ve been on several (six at last count) waitlists for affordable housing the oldest listing is 6 years, the newest is 2. So shit is not great.

The worst part of this for me however is dealing with the classism and racism and knowing how much my anxiety is going to be triggered because I’m trying so hard to take care of my family and everything- shit is hard. I am shit scared I won’t be able to give us a better quality of life and for my partner in particular that’s gonna be a problem.

I’ve mathed shit out and in order to provide the base level of comfort, safety and quality of life I’d like to give my partner I need to make the equivalent of another 900$ per month, or better 7$ more an hour than I make now.

All that said, y’all.

I’m trying.

Things I’ve done to help myself out:

  • Rebudgeted my Patreon money.  I also have some plans to expand my offerings there so I can make more cash.
  • I am on four waitlists for income restricted apartments.
  • Put off buying a new bed/any purchase over 100$.
  • Hustlin

I’m working.

The other thing that’s on my mind is that really when we do move we’re gonna have to essentially start over. We desperately need a new bed, I’ve literally had my mattress and box spring for 18 years and they were not quality to begin with. We need new pots and pans, most of ours were cheap and are on their last legs.

We both need to toss pretty much all of our basic clothing items. Underwear, socks, jeans, bras for me and start over because our shit is so raggedy.

This is where poverty really feels hopeless.

Currently via Patreon I make (I’m lowballing to account for declined cards) about 220$ extra a month. I could try to hustle more freelance writing work though, I’m really terrible at it and make probably about another 250 or so. Most of the regular work I’ve found has been contract based and I won’t rely on that because I’ve been burned.

I’m at the point where I’ve sacrificed a lot. My personal comfort, my personal quality of life, the quality of food I eat, how much I eat, so much and I’m only able to get a tiny bit ahead. And then something (not a huge deal to most) happens and I’m fucked.

I’m questioning my refusal to work the way I did in my 20s. Work and grind and forget writing or pleasure of having a quality of life.

I’m questioning other choices I’ve made like whether or not to go into industries I hate and don’t feel welcome in.

Often at night when I’m trying to go to sleep and my brain hamsters get turnt the fuck up, I find myself analyzing and remembering a lot of things. I think, fuck I spent 75$ on bras four (shit FOUR) years ago, shouldn’t have done that. I spent 15$ on thrifted Danskos in 2014. I bought food I bought the menstrual pads I like rather than the ones that were 3$ less.

I know for me this is mainly an indication of my stress levels. When I’m not so stressed out I don’t do this.

I am not sure how I’m going to make this happen.

I don’t know what to do but, I’m going to do whatever I have to.

Reasons why I am anxious.

Right now I have anxietied myself to near tears and lately apparently that’s what my brain is gonna do.

So yes, hello your fave Auntie has some major anxiety problems and many of them have been life long. I’m working on being more open about this because the things that can cause a panic attack or this kind of mid-level hard to breath I want to cry anxiety embarass me. The more shitty part of my brain says, what the whole fuck is wrong with you?

For instance, y’all know (or if you don’t now you do) that I am a writer. I had a piece published last week and it has legs and people have said really great things to me about it. Granted there has been some pushback, some pepe wielding dickholes have been trolling but that doesn’t bug me so much. What did make me have an actual panic attack was that some folks said SUPER nice things and yeah.

Sometimes   frequently, when great or good things happen to me I panic. Compliment? Panic. Someone I admire says something low key praise like, lost shit. Offered an opportunity? FREAK OUT.

This flavor of anxiety almost always elicits a fear response. Bug eyes, sweating, fight or flight. Terror. I start sweating, I might shake. I don’t cry normally but I am scared as fuck.

Why?

I don’t fucking know.

My brain is full of fuck.

Other reasons I’m anxious today:

  • I woke up
  • My bus was late
  • I was late for work
  • I can’t find a dance class I can afford
  • I really need new underwear
  • I have to finish a new piece.
  • I didn’t make ALL the blog posts I wanted to.
  • I’m kind of overdressed for the weather.
  • I wrote some new poems.
  • I am not sure what si

Um along with other things this is what’s on the hamster wheel of my brain.

The worst thing about the way I experience anxiety is that it exacerbates my fatigue problems. Am I exhausted because I slept like shit or because I’ve been so anxious all day I’ve felt like I might shit my pants.

I can hear my brain grinding away and I have shit to do. I have art to make. I am tired of my own crazy* hamster wheel brain that won’t just let me live.

A lot of me wants to battle this. A lot of me wants to deny it, stonewall it and power through because that is how I learned to deal with my mental illness from a young age. I wasn’t depressed, I was whiny. I wasn’t having problems, I was just not pulling my bootstraps hard enough.

I don’t want to do that anymore.

I also don’t want to just be a shitty pants, sobbing mess.

It is a fine line.

Some of how my life works requires that I don’t express outwardly how I’m feeling inside. I can’t sit on the floor at work ugly crying. I can’t throw myself on the ground in public.

This coupled with being struck with a 6 day cluster headache attack that I worked through 5 days of has made me not great.

I’m recovering but y’all, shit has been fuckin rough.

And I’m not trying to push myself to work beyond my limits so blogging is not gonna be as regular as I hoped it to be.

I’m working on it.

Also my friend Katie has a podcast and if you want to hear some folks talk about how this shit feels, listen. It is great.

Live From the Dollar Store-CW: mental health, panic, shame spirals.

I am not literally at the dollar store right now but my heart is there.

Lately, I’ve been doing a lot of work on identifying anxiety triggers. Part of me trying to deal with the reality of living with my flavor of mental illness and trauma involves a lot of me sitting with my anxiety or panic and letting it happen and then trying to figure out how I got there.

Another thing I’ve been slowly learning to allow myself to do is express what’s on my mind mid-freakout. Once upon a time, I was barely capable of telling my best friend over IM. I spent years supressing any outward signs of having emotions much less of having a panic attack that now, my deepest desire is to let it out.

So look here for what I was tweeting in a nice storified way. And then come back to this tab so I can tell you what was gong on in my head.

What set this off on Friday was that I was already feeling very nervous about what/how we were going to eat through getting my paycheck, paying the rent/bills, and until my partner’s EBT refilled. Typically the end of one month into the first week of the next is really difficult for me. I’m partly relieved, and then I’m angry all over because my paycheck barely covers my rent.
By that point in the month, we are always on the dregs of what we’re eating. My partner has health problems and I know how much of a difference a better diet could make but, we have some intersecting things that make doing that extra hard.
I know that I would feel better overall if we could eat better. I know that I feel the best when I use a less “diet” based way of eating and just eat what I want when my body says I want it.
That is expensive. I can’t afford it.
And last Friday, I was hit up for money to be taught marketing and the person used a lot of negging to do it and it caused me to have a panic attack and subsequent bout of pure rage.
The anger was mixed with my panic because, boom I had an instant cascade of food insecurity.  And what do you know, afterwards (and after eating thanks to some gracious donations) I was able to figure out and pinpoint that food insecurity for either myself or my Lil family, sends me deep into panic and anxiety and shame.
What does that have to do with the dollar store?
Our neighborhood dollar store is slightly small, cramped and usually hot as hell. The staff is pretty friendly and they have food.
Generally speaking, I always have a jar of change, I have my emergency dollars stashed and I know if I can walk up there, I can feed my little family.
It is not the best food.
But it is sometimes what makes the difference between eating and not. Between, getting some protein and eating plain ramen.
Sometimes when I’m panicky about making sure my partner has something to eat in the house if he’s unable to get out or when I realize I don’t have any lunch, the dollar store is there.
And for that, I am terribly thankful.
[<a href=”//storify.com/Weebeasty/the-external-meltdown” target=”_blank”>View the story “The External Meltdown” on Storify</a>]

Musings-Poverty trauma, exhaustion.

I’m experiencing one of my least fave perimenopause things today. The Crushing Fatigue. I was fine and doing stuff and now I am not.

I’ve been tracking a lot of stuff about my day to day life and I have one pattern that I just cannot seem to shake. When I am exhausted or in this fatigued state, all I can think about is how much more I should be doing to support my little family.

I’m not sure what it is about being so tired I’m unable to do much, triggers this intense mix of guilt, shame and sudden NEED to be all hustle. Or, I look at my budget for things I’m saving for (currently Ninja Blender) and I come up with eleventy forty seven reasons why I should not be doing that and should do X thing instead. Right now, that feeling is a bit more intense because we have an unexpected bill this month that pretty much has eaten my “extra” money in my budget.

On one hand, I feel that shame that poor people feel because of how our culture treats us. Part of my brain says, if I worked harder. If I made better decisions I mean I don’t need to eat “good” food, I don’t need  to write something that meant I bought research materials, I don’t need new drawers, I can surive! Of course I can. I have survived worse!

One part of my brain is like, FUQ U I CAN DO THIS SHIT!

Then I open a new tab and start a whole new tighter, leaner and meaner budget. When I feel this way, my budgets are like. Fuck you and your entertainment. Fuck your hair. Fuck your raggedy ass panties too. You don’t deserve shit you didn’t work for.

On the other side of my brain, things are far more chill. That part of my brain says, you know if our culture actually was decent, you’d not feel like your worth is only what you can produce. That side of my brain says, you didn’t fail and destroy your whole life because a bill was bigger than anticipated. You are allowed to not be hustling all the time.

The latter is what I really believe. Rationally, I know and believe that there are many intersecting things that contribute to my experience of being the working poor, the trauma and the anxiety triggers. I know that. Shit, I’ve fucking written about it.

So much of my brain is arguing with itself because I know these things, but sometimes I can’t feel these things. I feel ashamed because I bought TWO pairs of skinny jeans on clearance in December and I could really use that 42.89 (Yes I remember the exact price) right now. On one hand, I rage because I don’t make a living wage and don’t see that changing anytime soon, but I also know that I am worth being paid a living wage.

This push and pull is also a feature of how my anxiety manifests. I know that so much of this is a stinky mix of triggers and anxiety and panic.

know I am worth spending the money on my own personal health on my personal comfort etc. On having a better quality of life. I know that. A lot of my work is deeply rooted in that.

So really, my job in this state is not to listen to the part of me that says I’m lazy and terrible and not worth it.

That’s all I’m gonna do for right now because it’s all I can do.

IT’S MY BIRFDAY!

Er it was my birthday yesterday.

I’m officially 40 y’all.

If you’d like to read a fbomb laden essay about how I feel about turning 40 click here.

So let’s talk about some shit I don’t like.

It appears my fave milky nude, sheer lipgloss has been discontinued. Maybelline Baby Lips Gloss in Taupe With me. I’m on my last tube. It is a really nice pinky super shiny gloss that was cheap and that I love. It was a cross between the Make up Forever Plexigloss in Sweet Pink and the Mac Nicki Minaj lipglass with a bit of brown and a touch less color. There is something about a milky texture to a lipgloss that I just love.

Other shit I don’t like. I had to shave my armpits (I hate shaving) because I had a rash under lefty and righty was feelin weird. Shaved, treated the skin and things got a bit worse. Come to realize, the pit stick I’ve been using has chamomile in it and guess what I’m allergic to? Yes Petunia I am allergic to chamomile….:( so now I’m vaguely funky because I’m using a natural no baking soda deo that can only do so much while my armpits heal.

Now how about stuff I do like?

Um, so my hair is pink right now. I’m SO into this wig. I feel so cute and Pastel Goth like.

pinkhairs

[image description: Black femme with long pink hair wearing glasses.

This is the FreeTress Equal Delux Lace Front Wig – EVLYN. Y’all. This wig is so great. Quick report, it is thick. The color is gorgeous. Very comfortable. If you want to play with color and like wearing silky straight hair, GET ON THIS y’all.

The next great thing happening. For my birthday I side hustled myself enough money to buy the cutest pair of platform booties on ebay.

boot

[image of a black platform ankle boot]

I got these in my usual size 7. Check them out here. These are fantastic. They are super lightweight, lined in plush leopard print and actually kept my feet warm when it was snowing a little. The upper is super flexible so if you have a bigger ankle they would be easily adjustable. I will say these are actually on par with the boots I got from designer brand YRU a couple of years ago. And I will say the construction is superior. I’ve worn these probably five or six times in snow and rain and they are solid. I wore my YRU platforms three times and the platforms separated from the boot.

What else am I loving? With the warmer weather, I’ve FINALLY gotten to break out some of my dresses. I picked up this little beauty while it was on sale a couple of months ago. I paired it with black tights, a black cardi, and my trusty old docs. Super cute on. No stretch though and my XL strains over my boobs. I’ve got my eye on this beauty right here. I really love this one too.

My current aesthetics as the weather inches towards bare leg season is a little 90s flavored Femme Old Goth. See here:

ootd

[image description: Black Femme wearing from the feet up, black platform ankle boots, black skirt, burgundy sweater with a black tank top underneath]

This year all I want are cute dresses and lots of skater skirts to be honest. Let me show y’all some other things I’m obsessed with.

The Sully Dress. Y’all. I want one so bad. Jersey fabric, I love that cut and style. I could wear it multi season. UNF I NEEDS IT.

I really want to try out some elastic harness things like this. I am intrigued because I have yet to see someone with a body type similar to mine wear one. I love the leather ones better but, leather is expensive and I want to try it out before I commit to an investment piece.

I also find myself in need of more skater skirts.

Right now I have my eye on a few on Amazon. This one for days when I want a nice slightly longer one. Pro tip, for stuff like this from Amazon check the reviews, especially ones with photos.

I’ve also got plans on attaining MORE GALAXY PRINT. Why? Cause I friggin love it. I LOVE this skirt, but that will absolutely not fit me. Well the max stretched measurement would work but only if I already pooped that day, was not bloated at all and had on mega shapewear.

I like to pair my skater skirts with my nerdy tshirts. My favorite of that type of outfit I don’t have a photo of but I paired a Deadpool tee with a floofy circle skirt and my tall docs. I was fucking adorable.

Now that I am officially an Elder Goth, can I tell y’all it would be lit if neither money nor time was an object. Check my pinboard of dream Old Goth fashions.

What else?

I’m considering getting my septum pierced because I want an opal clicker on my face. I’ve also resumed using my pinterest tattoo reference board. I had sort of given up on my body mod dreams because money but I have a little stash of cash I put money in monthly that is specifically for mods so maybe?

Content warning for some creepy stuff, I will be adding to it soon.

That’s all for right now loves.

Regular posting will resume soon I promise.

I love y’all!

Be good!

 

 

 

 

 

Hoodwitchery Problems

I have some eclectic hood witch things I like to do and whatnot and I’m coming across some issues I remember running into when I was full Witch Woo back in the day.

For my particular flavor of woo, I work and check myself to not be appropriative or gross in what I do. Call it Hood witchery, Kitchen Witchery, Eclectic Pagan- I don’t really feel attached to the name of any one tradition and as I’ve gotten older, Hood Witch is where I feel best.

Currently I don’t have a space for a full sized altar so I’ve been gathering bits and bobs to put in my bag to carry with me. I was gifted some beautiful chunks of crystals and I have a list of other things I want for it.

Now here is the problem.

Some of the things I want come from the diaspora and I don’t want to buy them from white people who group things like the I Ching, tarot, quasi Buddhism, Hoodoo, Voodoo a smattering of Santeria and other Columbused sacred things. Also, I live in Seattle so a lot of that is fairly unavoidable.

I keep searching etsy and other places and try to vet who I’m purchasing from but y’all….shit is tiring as fuck.

I don’t want to have to cleanse items of their residual Columbusing bad feelings before I can use them.

 

I’m searching carefully, I don’t need to rush the process.

My personal methodologies of magic have started to intersect with my general self-care practices and for me that feels very right.

I’m finding that right now with the rise of witchy imagery and a (at least aesthetic) acceptance of darker things, is that I cannot get away from white folkx Columbusing the magic of POC. On one hand, after so many years of my life having these interests (spiritually, aesthetically etc) and having to just deal with having zero representation save for the Columbused occasional depiction of a Loa, now there’s some representation but sometimes I have some issues.

The Black witchy aesthetic tends to mirror the White one. Thin, willowly and beautiful in expensive clothes with beautiful background images and Insta photos that are yes super beautiful to look at but for me are so well filtered and presented there’s nothing for me to connect to.

I have a lot of conflicting feelings about it. On one hand, I really do love looking at beautiful people doing stuff I think is beautiful. One of the best things about social media like tumblr (you can follow me if you wanna not always sfw) is that I’m able to fulfill the hunger I have for looking at and talking to my fellow Black weirdos. It is fucking amazing. I mean I’ve found some Black witch groups on the facebooks and it feels overall super good.

This uh, melding of the aesthetic and spiritual is great for me emotionally. I had an essay in Witch Craft magazine (read the playlist for it here and pick up a copy it is amazing) about my magic and embodying dark scary magic and that is what I crave. And for a while I was able to escape Whiteness in this and currently not so much.

As I’ve gotten older, learning to embrace these things about myself more fully and not argue with myself about it has been great. Reclamation and creating myself are very important to who I am as a human and currently this is what my remaking is made of.

So yes, I’m having some issues with this but, overall I’m making it work.

How about a Flash Back Friday photo?

Me showing a friend my big hair and when I was just starting to re-enter my wooness.

At some point when I’m comfortable I’ll talk more in depth about my woo. Suffice to say, it’s pretty all over the place like me and it is perfect.

Photo circa maybe 2013?

flashbackfriday

The time Betsy Johnson Broke My Heart

A site I like to window shop at sometimes sent me an email about a bunch of Betsy Johnson stuff on sale.

Y’all don’t know this, but Betsy Johnson was the first designer I loved. When I was a lil post teenage potato, the only designer that I ever thought, holy fuck I want to wear that was Betsy.

Back in the 90s, my style was absolutely done what I gotta do with thrift store and hand me downs. Not because it was fashionable, but I was poor and chubby. And then in some magazine I saw Betsy Johnson clothes. It became my big secret dream to have one. Even more than the pretty formal dresses that never fit me, more than the Goth wear I saw in the Retail Slut catalogs I got.

A dress similar to this one was my dream.

My style icons were Grace Jones, Courtney Love, Stevie Nicks, the goth and punk girls I saw randomly. I wanted to wear pleated school girl skirts and boots, I wanted to wear big chunky ass shoes and slip dresses and y’all get it.

I had this vision of Bad Bitch Femme. Glitter and fucked up nails and whatnot.

However, I was not a thin girl. Even at my lowest weights, I’ve always still been a thick girl. Back then, after having a little money for mall clothes, I remember leaving in tears because I couldn’t find things I liked that fit my body. I remember very vividly being in a dressing room in the Limited maybe and trying not to cry and my Mom being impatient because I wouldn’t come out.

So I made it work sort of. I remember convincing myself that well fuck mall clothes anyway and that I just didn’t have the body to wear things I actually liked. And then I started to fake it.

I remember I had this ridiculous outfit, a pair of poop brown mens 70s slacks that I paired with a cream colored long sleeve thermal, boots and a big old fake high long ponytail. I paired it with a super glossy glittery lip and a big ole stripe of liner and it was one of the first times I was like, I am fine as fuck.

My next foray into dressing just how I wanted to was when I went to my first Pride. I want to say it was maybe 1999? I dunno, I’m an old.

So I had thrifted what was probably part of a dance team outfit. It was a fuschia sequinned a line mini skirt with a little keyhole belly cut out and a black ribbon. I saw it buried in a bin at Value Village and fell in immediate love.

I wore it low on my hips with platform sandals and a strappy vintage camisole that was almost see thru. There was glitter on my face (I used to mix my own glittery face powder back in the day, SHUT UP IT WAS THE SHIT) and I had a pixie haircut and y’all, I went alone and it was when I found my bounce.

I did that thing where when I got to the parade, I invoked my runway hoeness and walked it the fuck out. Booty bouncing, titties out, shoulders back, feelin the FUCK out of myself. There was a drag queen handing out sunglasses and she stopped me, put some glitter cat eyes on my face and made me do my runway walk.

I wound up being friends with her but mostly what i remember is this drag queen and some cute gay boys yelling, “WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORK BITCH” and it was the first time in my young adult potato life, I really felt beautiful.

Now around that time I was saving money, all my change, any extra dollars because I wanted to go into the Betsy Johnson store and buy a dress. I got myself gussied up and went in and almost immediately realized that nothing would fit me aside from maybe some earrings or sunglasses or a purse.

I didn’t want a fucking purse.

I remember leaving (AH I was 21 by then) and going to sit in a bar by myself and feel like the grossest human to ever live.

Betsy Johnson just broke my lil heart. I was devastated. I’d worked so hard to save up about 300$ and I even had a plan to take myself out on a fancy date so I could wear whatever I bought.

Now I took that money and wound up in a Hot Topic, ostensibly to buy myself some band shirts or something and I discovered this long black beautiful Gothy dress. It was full length, had a chiffon cape thingy, the big sheer bell sleeves. Sort of this style, but not velvet. The ubiquitous Goth thing.

I found my thing.

I found the thing that opened up fashion to me in a while new way. I realized that my body was not at fault for some stuff not fitting me. That my inability to wear Betsy or shop at 5-7-9 or whatever.

My big point here is this.

Your body is not wrong.

You have to figure out what you’re working with and work with it. Figure it out. The thing is, there’s something like THE big deal thing, you just have to find it.

That said, sometimes you’re still gonna mourn the perfect thing. It’s okay. It happens to all of us.

This post brought to you by this most perfect dress that would in no universe fit my ass.

picture-of-elegance-party-dress_black-multi

Someone please buy that damn dress and then get your photo taken and show me because I think it is so damn beautiful. Betsy, you hurt my feelings again.