You already know how I feel about Mr. Boseman. Anywho, as you also may know (please, please know this; like, I enjoy under-the-rock living, too, but you need to know this), Black Panther, the next movie in the Marvel Universe, is set to open this coming Friday. Saying I can't wait is certainly an understatement. We …
Blogvember #29: The Baby Steps Gourmet.
Cooking is an art form. And in a world of cuisine Van Goghs, I'm best described as the lady with tracing paper who would love to just copy the art without doing all the work. When I was 15, my mother devised a plan: she, my sister and I would take turns cooking. She showed …
Blogvember #2: Deliverance.
Back in the day, I was a proud purveyor of the poker face. Betraying nothing on the surface while all kinds of madness/side eye/frustrations went on underneath. Perhaps it was a by-product of growing up painfully shy: I didn't want anyone to notice me anyway, so it wasn't necessary to communicate, even via my face, …
Throwback Thursday: The Scowler.
Meet your Square Peg, a.k.a., me. I found this photo in my mom's "secret" stash of photos one evening last week. I should tell you that my mother's things--her clothes, perfume, shoes, etc.,--have long fascinated me, which means that since I was little girl, sneaking into her room to see what I could find and …
The Seamstress.
I'm spoiled rotten. I am. You see, whenever I see photos of lovely dresses and skirts and outfits, particularly with African fashion, I just head over to my mom's room, bat my medium-sized eyelashes (why do boys get long eyelashes? Can someone explain this to me?), and sweetly ask if she can recreate the look. After …
calling all big heads.
Let's get right to it, shall we? For most of my days on this planet, I've been reminded by my mother about how this thing that sits on my neck nearly cost her her life. If you have a large coconut, I'm sure you've heard similar stories from your mom. And lest you think Mom …
Products from Heaven: Fits Like a Dove.
Here's the real, no-holds barred truth about Your Square Peg: she sweats like a chocolate pig. There's no other way to say it. Ever since I woke up one morning a million years ago and discovered the monster known as--shudder--puberty, the sweat glands opened up, got to work, and decided to work overtime every single day. …
Straighten Up and Fly Right.
Let's talk about posture, shall we? When your Square Peg was a precocious tween, I used to walk around the house with a book on my head like the photo to your left. But it had nothing to do with posture. It was just the excitement of getting from one side of the room to …
because your Mother is always right.
So my mother hasn't dressed me since I was a teenager, but deep down in her heart, I know she wants to. I would classify my personal style as modern, unfussy, feminine, subtly chic. In other words, I like to look lovely but I'm the lady who won't overwhelm the room with my fashion choices. …
Several Things African Mothers are Not Here For.*
(*Or, rather specifically, my African mother) Discussing anything having to do with shaving or other such topics with your adolescent, hirsute daughter, leading her to make the type of mistakes and gaffes that defy description. The idea that Idris Elba possesses any kind of good looks and responding to statements of that vein with comments such as, …
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This Square Peg. 