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 …

Romper Room.

So I stopped wearing shorts sometime around the late 90s/early 2000s. There was no real reason. I recall looking at myself in the mirror one day and deciding that I was no longer in PE class. Therefore: no more shorts. (Deep down, though, summertime and the meeting of thighs...you get my drift, lady out there.) Anyway, …

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 …