Goals.

Chair goals. Book shelf goals. Head wrap goals. Recreating-this-photo-in-my-apartment-one-day goals. I mean. Come on. For a proud melanin lady who loves books and sitting on her growing derrière (thank you, squats) and red lippy, this photo is everything. Incidentally, yesterday was National Book Lovers Day. I certainly hope you celebrated by sniffing some books and …

Pinspirations.

Hi, there. So I went to Pinterest a few weeks ago to get some ideas for my next protective style. As you know, I've been protective styling it more often than not, ever since my crochets in February. After deciding that I wanted some cornrows, I eventually descended into the sweet Pinterest rabbit hole, where you …

Pinterest Poses.

I pinned myself last night on Pinterest. I've pinned myself several times before, but this is the first time I'm blogging about it. Anywho, why does one pin themselves? I'll tell you why I did it. I was quite in love with my hair last night (this whole weekend, actually) and I wanted to share it. …

Salon/Stylist Stories.

Our intriguing, perplexing, awesome, mind-boggling, revolutionary, interesting, and life-changing relationship/journey began when I was 11 years old. This was when my mother took me to my first hair salon. It was owned by a Ghanaian woman who ran the salon from her apartment. I was terrified. No surprise there. If you know anything about me so far, …

Fabu Fashion Wednesday: Springtime Fakery.

Meteorologically speaking, it's spring. In real time, however, a dreary cloudiness continues to cast an endless shadow over our atmosphere, bringing with it daily rainfall and cooler-than-average breezes. I won't comment on the side eye I give anyone that tries to remind me of rain and flowers and things growing. (There goes that positive attitude. Le sigh.) Anyway, as you …

The Chocolate Flapper.

First, hi. So last Saturday, a good friend of mine threw a decades party: guests were to choose their favorite decade and dress accordingly. Naturally, being that I love all things Twenties--the Jazz Age, Gatsby was running around (fictionally), and girls were bobbing their hair--it was a sure thing that I would arrive in my flapper …