ithinkyoushould. Work it Out, and Shout!
So in a previous entry, I kind of went “off” about Mo’nique and her whole shouty-thing, and how I just couldn’t relate. And I went as far as quoting a source in the form of a book written by Sports Illustrated author, Ralph Wiley called Why Black People Tend To Shout. And now I have my “theory” as to why she shouts. Recently, I read a article on Barbara Walters where she talked about her triumphs and regrets concerning the many “celebrities” she’s interviewed over career, and she revealed that Mo’nique had been sexually molested by her brother. I actually do recall Mo’nique telling Oprah that via satellite after the “Precious” reviews came pouring in.
When I read that, I got a full body chill, and my spirit went into shock mode. I had an immediate visceral reaction to what I perceived must have caused Mo’nique incredible pain and misery in her young life, and I marvelled at how every hour she must live her life in spite, despite what her brother did to her.
My reaction to assaults of this nature, particularly where and when it concerns children is great sorrow, and anger, empathy, and disgust. I wonder how on God’s Green Earth such a vile thing can happen. It tears me up inside to think how the violated can live through this experience, and how the violators can continue to walk “peacefully” amongst us. But people who do this most assuredly are not at peace. For it takes a tragic and corrupted mind to perpetuate such egregious acts upon a child.
And so it is with Mo’nique. I believe she gives her audience the full frontal attack because she wants to let you know that she is OFF LIMITS. I think she wants to show you that there is nothing that can touch her because her guard is way up. She will cuss you out, and she will cuss you out loud before you dare to approach her. At the same time, she is gracious, and generous and forgiving. She shows her gratitude and appreciation in heapings-full of joy in such a demonstrative fashion, that one can only do a double-take once you realize that what she is doing is positive.
At first, I thought that the “caricature” portraiture of the Big Mammy was more than I could bear because for whatever reason whatever we read in print, and see manifest on television becomes representative, good or bad, black or white. We live in a culture that seems to privilege the image over the reality, and thus what we see is what we get is what we believe, is. And so with Mo’nioque. We see a large black woman, we see a large mouth, and an even larger personality, shouting at the tube, shouting at us about what is good, bad, and ugly. And she doesn’t “whitefy” it, she doesn’t make it digestible or even palatable to whom she perceives her audience to be, she just puts it out there, and if you want to go along for the ride, then she’ll take you there.
When she had L’il Wayne on the program, I was shocked. Not because he happens to be one of the most popular recording artists of our time, but because he is certified ghetto-fabulous, and he doesn’t care what you’all think. In fact, as I write this, his jail sentence has been postponed, until further notice. But there was Mo’nique introducing him first as a “proud father” and then talking about how influential and monumental his music abilities are.
It’s long been said that “we” are living in 2 Americas: one for white folks, and one for black folks. And one could argue that the “image” of black folks that we have come to know and “love” and understand, and emulate—yes, emulate let’s be Real Honest, here—is what we see manifest on TV. BET to be frank. There’s a dialect that is different from the standard English, there is a dress and a swagger that is different from the mainstream, and there is a look and a hook that is all too familiar which the popular culture loves and despises. It’s all there, in your hair, in your face, and how you endeavour to get your point across.
And so like down in the slave quarters when all the work for the massa has be done gone, the slaves are gonna praise Jesus, and party! And that is what the Mo’nique Show is: Pop-TV-Church and a certified par-tay, y’all. HALLEJULAH!!!!
Don’t Hate.
Tags: Jesus, Mo'nique, Oprah, Outkast
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ithinkyoushould. Do What You Gotta Do.
I did. Yesterday evening, I broke my fast. It was a busy day organizing the Hannah Montana Party for my 5 year old. We had 16 kids plus moms and plates upon plates of fruits and vegetables which no one barely touched. As you know, the greatest fear of any hostess is that you do not have enough food! Well, needless to say, I went slightly overboard, but at the end of the day, I really do think it was worth it. Unfortunately, Hannah was a bit of a disappointment. The children enjoyed her well enough, but she was a bit long in the tooth. I think we got a substitute Hannah, and that’s really too bad because you just want your party to go off without a hitch, and when something is not quite right, the hostess in you goes a little mental.
For me it’s all about exceeding expectation, and putting your salt into your effort. And feeling pleased that you did your best, so on with the show. This is basically what happened with my Cleanse. I think I was just tired of drinking Maple Syrup. And 7 days of it was sufficient. I’m going to hit the gym hard in the next few weeks and see what the results will yield. I was never a “diet person” and being on this Cleanse was proof of that. To me, it just doesn’t make sense not to eat. I understand the part about clearing your body of toxins, etc., which for all intents and purposes, I believe I was able to do, but the not eating part was so strange. No, I was “never” hungry, but I did miss food, and it seemed cruel and unusual to deprive myself of nourishment.
Next time, I will go to an exclusive resort where while you’re being restricted from the simple pleasures in life, the void is replaced by spa treatments courtesy of Romeo and Apollo, and a breathtaking view. Amen?
Tags: Cleanse, Hannah Montana, Spa
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ithinkyoushould. Make Shepherd’s Pie.
Today [March 4] is Day 6 of my Cleanse. I feel good. Not hungry. But just now I thought about food. How can I not?
Yesterday I made Shepherd’s Pie for my daughter who turned 5. This is the beginning of a new tradition at our house. One that she can understand, mostly because it centers around her. 5 year olds are like that. While they are conscious and respectful of others and have a high moral code and an even higher sense of justice, they are also ridiculously self-centered. Who isn’t? So the tradition is that if it’s your birthday, you get to have your favourite food made for you. And hers is Shepherd’s Pie. And she ate 3 healthy portions of it. I was delighted because as good as her appetite is, I have never seen her relish meat and potatoes more. It made me proud because as I always tell her when she compliments me on the food that I prepare, that it tastes so good because Mommy makes it with Love. She smiles a beaming, fresh-faced smile when I tell her this because I really do cook with love when I cook for my family and I make sure that what they are eating is nutritious, healthy and savoury.
Thing is, being on this crazy cleanse I couldn’t eat any of it. Well, of course I “could,” but I didn’t.
While I was scraping the chilli into the baking pan the smell of cumin, oregano and basil met my nose, and I was almost faint with desire. I would not say that I was faint with hunger, per se, because I have not been technically hungry. It’s more like thinking about the idea of food that creates the food-want-sensation. And only because I have “conditioned” my brain, and thus my body to believe that subsisting on organic lemons and maple syrup plus 2 pinches of cayenne pepper and pure water is sufficient. When, however, the aroma of food becomes too much, I remember the immortal words of Model Scholar Kate Moss who infamously said, “Nothing Tastes as Good as Skinny Feels.”
I know, I rolled my eyeballs too, but not because what she said is careless, reckless, and irresponsible, but because she has parlayed those words into a successful Lifestyle Brand. It’s what these alien-types excel at: doing sh*t that nobody else is supposed to do, much less know about, because it then becomes corrupted into some kind of counter-culture religion. Of course, she didn’t mean it the way you and I let ourselves believe she meant it, she meant it as it relates to her life, not yours silly. [Sorry, but come on, already!]
Now say it with me: “Do as I say, not as I do, One set of rules for me, and a different set of rules for you!” If you make that your own personal hero, you won’t have to worry about being a role model, much less a supermodel, and therefore you only have yourself to blame if somebody catches you on camera doing stuff that you are not “supposed” to do. Sigh, Life is so Subjective isn’t it?
Anyways. Back to Love & Shepherd’s Pie. When my daughter woke up the morning of her 5th birthday, she was all smiles. I had written her a silly poem card which she read several times before placing it neatly on her dresser. We exchanged one thousand hugs and kisses and smiles, before, during and after my husband, her little sister and I wished her a beautiful day.
The night before we made Vegan Cupcakes that her Aunty had found on the internet which I modified by adding raspberries [her favourite], and strawberries. And we decorated them with a vanilla icing #5 and sprinkles. She was very proud to take them to her school except for the fact that we had made 24 and there are 26 children in her Montessori classroom. Not to worry, her teachers later told me, they cut some in half. “Were they good?”, I enquired. To which Mrs. M replied, “Well, nothing was left!” Unfortunately, I had not made enough for the teachers to also partake, but on the spot, I made a promise to go out and buy another cupcake tin so I could make 30 cupcakes the next time.
Yesterday was indeed a good day. And the reality of my daughter’s 5th year on planet Earth is also the reality of my Life. It’s a curious thing to measure your life against the development of a child, but I’m certain it’s what parents do when they actually have the time to reflect on it. This morning is an interesting case in point. After my husband had dropped us off at the school parking lot, I walked my daughter to her cubby where she proceeded to take off all of her Winter gear. Her cubby mate’s Mom stood beaming as my daughter methodically removed and organized her belongings, and then said, “She’s really very efficient, isn’t she” I laughed and said, “I guess so.” “And you are so patient,” she said to me. I laughed again, and replied, “What else can I do?!”
I then proceed to tell her that the one thing that I always tell her is that she [and her little sister] have literally given me the gift of patience. [This is what my older sister used to say to her girls, way even before it ever occurred to be that I would be a Mother]. “What else can I do?” I say rhetorically. And then I add, “ She does eventually have to do these things herself, so I just let her figure it out, if/when she needs me, and she often does, she will ask but I try to empower her the best I can.”
The Mom continued to smile, and I quickly added, “It doesn’t always work out, but we do our best.” I think she may have responded with a warm smile, but I can’t exactly recall. I think I just simply smiled back because I guess I felt proud that as crazy as I often feel, our children are learning something that others think is compliment-worthy. And no, I’m not big on tooting my own horn or thinking that because one woman noticed that my 5 year old can remove her clothes without assistance, I’m after some Mommy Recognition Award. No, for me it’s the simple fact that from one parent to another, one Mom to another, one woman to another, we can acknowledge that we may not always get it right, but the way to try and “get it right” is to hang in there, be patient. Amen?
Note: Next time I will photograph the cupcakes and Shepherd’s Pie. And I will provide my recipe for Shepherd’s Pie which closely follows that of my Mothers with a few exceptions.
Tags: Kate Moss, Patience, Shepherd's Pie
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ithinkyoushould. Let It Work for You.
As I embark on Day 4 of my Cleanse, I have an interesting perspective on the idea of Fasting. It’s this: you are as strong or as weak as you allow yourself to be. A given, right? Well, not necessarily.
If you read all of the hype, otherwise known as the information, surrounding the Cleanse, then you might not do it because of Fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of the known, fear of what others have said, or fear of what some have not said. Perhaps a general fear of your own success.
But this much I know. You will never “know” until you know. That is, when you try something based on myth, rather than fact, or when you try something that somebody before you may or may not have experienced, then rightly or wrongly that, or they, become your guide. But how trustworthy is your guide? How trustworthy are your sources? Did you get a second opinion? Do you value the first opinion, and so on.
My Day 3 was Good. In the midst of cooking lunch for my family, I noticed that I had a big plastic container of perishable organic field greens salad in the fridge. I have a great love for salad of all kinds. I season it liberally with fruits and vegetables and various kinds of seeds and I douse it generously with flax seed oil, apple cider vinegar, and a touch of balsamic.
The container of salad sitting relatively unused on top of the crisper was going to expire in the next few days, so I made a big salad for lunch, and while mindfully contemplating the Cleanse, I ate it.
I didn’t feel bad, or like I had “cheated” because all of my ingredients were organic and the salad itself had many vitamins and minerals with which to fuel my body. As I chewed and savoured each green morsel, I thought, “Wow, so this is what it feels like to be conscious of eating.” Eating the salad was such a deliberate act, like deciding to shower when you rise in the morning, or combing your child’s hair and helping her to make her bed. Some things just tend to happen on auto-pilot, but when you have “deprived” yourself of a thing for a few days, it’s easy to see how you can simply do something for the sake of doing it, rather than really “savouring” the experience. This is what “they” tell you.
For example, how many of us actually chew our food 20 times and put down the fork between bites? Well, until you’ve actually done this rather than read and scoffed at it, you can’t possibly know what it means to have your digestive system applaud you once you’ve done actually it. Can I tell you, I heard a beautiful symphony when I finished.
That said, I am not obsessed. I am determined. And success is mine, if I want it. And I want it. Which is the difference between letting fear grab a hold of you, or trouncing it at your first opportunity because ultimately, in your heart of hearts, you know that it is up to you. But isn’t it always?
Tags: Cleanse, fear, Rostropovich
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ithinkyoushould. Revisit your Concept of Art.
I miss my university days. I miss being in seminars discussing theory and art. Mostly because it had “nothing” to do with the outside world. But in many ways it did because beyond the minutiae of everyday banality, you can still have Art. You can still live Artfully.
Nowadays for me, it just happens when my girlies go to bed.
Here’s a video of performance artist Marina Abramovic discussing her Art. Interesting how she says that she cannot explain what she does. Which literally takes the edge off asking the question. And this is how she lets you in. So don’t be afraid. Be one with the artist who doesn’t push her ego in front of your face.
Tags: maria abramovic, Performance Art
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ithinkyoushould. Give it up for Oh Canada!
I was born in Canada. I am Canadian.
I grew up in Winnipeg, Manitoba and I remember snow so high that it covered the top of our front door. We had to be shoveled out. And there are pictures of my sisters and I standing on top of a monstrous snow hill with our faces covered in the “Winnipeg Wrap.”
Hockey was a big part of our City’s pride, and when The Jets were sold, we were collectively bummed. Except I could never muster up enough, oh, what is the word, “interest?” in the game to actually care. I know, this is NOT what I am supposed to say, but I dunno, the hockey-vibe totally escapes me.
What I do recall about hockey was that the arena was beside Polo Park. I worked at the first Club Monaco when it came to Winnipeg from chic Toronto. The hockey players would come and buy the jeans. And all I remember was that they took the largest size. 35 or 36. Because they had big bums. That’s my hockey story. That, and the fact that I can spell Teemu Selane.
And now my 2 daughters and I will have a new story to tell: how we sat together cuddled on our sofa fists in the air chanting, “Go CANADA Go!” When the Canadian Men’s Hockey Team scored that final Gold Medal Olympic goal, I told my daughters it was because we sent them positive vibes and cheered them on. To which my almost 5 year old replied, “really Mommy, did they really hear us through the TV?”
Yes, A*, they really did!
Tags: classified, oh canada, Teemu Salane, Winnipeg Jets
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ithinkyoushould. See this.
Bansky screens his film in a dingy tunnel at the Berlin Film Festival. Wish I was, gulp, there.
Tags: Banksy
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ithinkyoushould. Get That Boy Shorts Bottom! [And Gollom Arms!]
It’s Day Two of my Cleanse. And apart from a headache, which I’m not entirely certain is attributable to the lack of food energy, I feel FINE! Yes, capital F, fine. My husband has remarked that for somebody who has consumed nothing more than water, syrup, pepper and lemonade, I am in relatively good spirits. I tell him that it is because not only am I committed to sticking to this regime, but I am also committed to not acting like a depraved lunatic.
And this dear friends is what it feels like to actually “commit” to something. I know, it’s the 2nd day. Big Whup! And according to the common knowledge talk surrounding the cleanse, the first 2 days are NOTHING. It’s when you embark upon days 3,4, and 5 that things start to get a little more intense. But what of it? Isn’t life intense, are not our daily routines intense? Isn’t being with a life-partner intense?
Levels of intensity are as manageable or unmanageable as you yourself allow them to be. For me, I decided that I wouldn’t focus on the lack of food, but my strength and ability to endure preparing meals for others while I cannot consume anything. I decided to shift the focus from my hunger pangs, to tightening my belt loop one less notch. More importantly, I just decided to live 1 hour at a time and be comfortable with where that gets me.
And try as I might to ignore all of the signals out there [food specials just looking for a buyer], I think there is a Master Reason why I am doing this Cleanse right now. Every day I receive a note from Women’s Health extolling the virtues of this fitness regime or another, this superfood or another, or what you can do to improve your level of fitness and health. To me, it’s daunting and I actually LIKE to exercise, and cook food, and research health topics. But what if I didn’t?
To my mind this very second, receiving these annoying fitness updates isn’t motivating, rather, it makes me want to not even read about it. Except I do. Read about it, that is. And then I commence to expelling a loud Groan. The reason? Well, they make it seem so easy. Too easy. As if, a woman who hasn’t exercised in years let alone months can actually achieve what they are promoting. “Tank Top Arms,” anyone? Anyone? Which is not to say that one shouldn’t try. Of course, if you don’t go there, you gain nothing. But I think that everyone needs to find a place to start. Like why your belly should not, say it with me, protrude over your bikini.
So I am pleased to say that my starting point is this Cleanse. And after that, I might clean my desk so that it stays permanently that way. After that I will practice Yoga on my own more consistently. After that I will make more smoothies with blueberries for breakfast, and just after that I will worry about whether or not I look good in boy shorts. Because as you know, in life we must all have a purpose, and if yours dear reader is to let your derriere hang out while enjoying the chilly cool stylins’ of a pair of Boy [Back] Shots, then I ain’t about to stop ya!
PS. Choo-Dawg, tell me that I did good on the Biggie Reference, will ya?
Tags: Boy Shorts, Cleanse, Tank Top Arms, Tracy Anderson, Women's Health
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ithinkyoushould. Let It Go.
Today I started the Master Cleanse. I’ve been writing about it for some time now and yesterday I finally gathered up all my ingredients to start. I’m both scared and excited as I embark on this journey. So much of what I’ve read online is daunting and scary. It’s not a cleanse for the faint of heart. It’s not a cleanse for anybody who isn’t committed, and it’s not a cleanse for people who don’t like to take risks or who are generally unhealthy. And yet as I write this, I wonder what category do I fall into?
Part of me is very excited to see the end results. I am exhilarated and scared. The fact that I can lose a few pounds in a few short days makes me deliriously happy. I’ve never struggled with my weight, in fact, I’ve always been healthy and devoted and committed to whatever action was necessary to keep myself that way. I’ve never dieted, I’ve never tried a fad-diet, nor do I use the word “diet” in my vocabulary. If anything, I generally refer to “modifying my eating habits,” or changing my lifestyle to incorporate whatever was lacking, or whatever I overindulged in to alter my appearance. But no, I’ve never dieted. The thing about this Cleanse is that I want to detox, get rid of the unwanted gunk and lose some weight in the process. And so this “immediate fix” has me anxious to see what will really happen.
Since giving birth to my second child, it’s taken me awhile to get back in shape. Last year I received the gift of fitness for my birthday, and as my usual habit, I’ve been binge-exercising, and I feel great. The downside for me is that I have been gaining muscle quickly. I have good genes, they tell me. They also tell me that carry my weight well, so while I was tipping the scales for both pregnancies, I was told by my doctor it didn’t matter because I “carried it well.” Well, if that isn’t a load of nonsense. Yes, I completely understand that women shouldn’t over-focus on weight gain during pregnancy, but we still need to be mindful. And no, I wasn’t mindful. I was scared to not eat enough good vitamins and minerals and protein, etc., that for sure I overindulged. Now, I’m healthy looking, but some shallow part of me just wants to be 5 pounds shy of athletic-looking. No, I will never be a lollipop like the girlies in Hollywood, and starving has no sustaining bonus either. These 10 pounds or so are simply a gateway into a new lifestyle plan. And a fitter, leaner, me.
I don’t plan to gain it back because I don’t plan to be stupid. I don’t plan to “tell” anybody about what I’m doing because I am consciously aware of saboteurs and haters in my midst. I plan to do more yoga and breathing exercises than I have ever done before, and I since I know that there will be mood swings and moments of negative and positive euphoria, I will do my very best to be conscious of those emotions and keep myself in check. The biggest change for these next 10-14 days, will be that I will try to go to bed early each night with my girls. That way I can reset my body and rest my weary head. The biggest challenge I foresee will be putting back some major focus onto myself. And with that, I hope you too can Let It Go.
Tags: Master Cleanse
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ithinkyoushould. Know that Tiger don’t Play That.
I would absolutely forgive you for caving to cultural peer pressure if you watched the “Something about Nothing” TW press conference the other night. I would also forgive you if you were unable to restrain yourself from committing an act of violence against your flatscreen TV in the process.
This is how I felt.
A few mornings prior to the conference, I listened to the CBC Morning 2 Drive as was my usual habit. When they broke for the news, the Tiger Woods conference was reported as headline news amidst other top news issues of the day. We were subsequently told that the conference was going to be contained to only family and friends, a few select press of Tiger’s choosing and no questions. We were told that he was going to say sorry about his getting busy with hos while looking like he was happily married. Time permitting, he might also shed some light as to how he was able to rake in billions of dollars as a reputable role model, sports icon, etc. And most importantly, he would tell us that he was in Sex Rehab. It was reality TV in the making, a must-see event because after 3 months we was gonna learn something new, y’all!
So I watched. No I hadn’t planned to. I’m not a golf person. I never felt that there was anything to “like” about Tiger, and I didn’t find him cute or funny. Which is important if you’re a girl who has to watch sports. Really, I could have cared less about this poor excuse of a Man and his infidelities. I was watching something else, and the conference broke in the middle of the program, as if this was something important and could change my life in some significant way. Ya. First Mistake.
So I watched and squirmed and suppressed my laughter and um, outrage. It was anti-climactic at best, self-indulgent at its worst.
I thought to myself. Wow. Dude just doesn’t “get it.” Not once did he seem sincere. His face was open, and wide and blank, the back was arched and straight, the voice, flat and unemotional [a strategic golf approach?!] He said he was sorry, but he didn’t sound or look sorry. He said it was his fault, but he didn’t look or sound like somebody who was at fault. He didn’t look guilty of anything, rather he looked defiant and arrogant, like “back off bitches, I’m doing this because somebody told me to do it, and ya, as painful as it is for you, it’s even more painful for me, ‘cause, Tiger don’t play.”
And then he proceeded to blame the media. Indirectly of course. He told us to back off and leave him alone, to leave his family alone, and that his business was none of our business. He told us that no, he hadn’t found God, but that he would return to his Buddhist religion for redemption. And it struck me as un-American. Right down to the core. Because he’s not doing it right. He’s not following the Redemption Script. He’s rewriting the script, perhaps trying to rewrite history. I say his behaviour is conveniently “un-American” because Americans like their [public] sex with religion and politics, thank you.
In America, when a Media Icon falls from grace, there are a series of things they must do to both save their career and save their reputation. The first is to immediately admit your guilt, the second is to immediately say you’re sorry and accept responsibility, and the third step is to immediately get help and find God, and 4th if you are married, your wife is supposed to stand corporate-styles, stiffly and stoically by your side, in sensible shoes, with a tight grin splayed across her face dying on the inside as she suppresses her real thoughts and emotions. Immediately.
According to the accepted script, we don’t really want any more from you at that moment, because we can’t really process any more than that. What’s done is done, and we need you to move on, and move along, so we can move on and move along. And we need simple details, please. And no we don’t want to hear you justify your ass, because no, you can’t make it better, but when and if you keep talking smack, you will absolutely make it worse. Like Tiger. Because the Fool, doesn’t get It.
How many more people will he alienate by “calling attention to” his Buddhist roots? Perhaps as many people he alienated when he first claimed to be neither Black nor White nor Asian. [Only MJ could make us "believe" that]. That should have been our “first clue” that he was different. And then there was his conduct on the course. People generally found him a bit prickly, but his game was untouchable, and sometimes social awkwardness can be forgiven if the genius is outstanding.
Still, in America, sports guys are like real life action heroes. They are likeable and inimitable because we let them be that way. When the sports hero Michael Vick was caught dealing dogs, he immediately fessed-up, faced his demons and is now doing everything in his power to right his wrong. And wow, if there was ever a soul in pain, Vick’s is it. The remorse on his face is palpable.
Tiger’s actions literally pale in comparison. TW lived out his fantasy as if he was a porno stud and not a reputable family man. And he got caught. And he is still caught. But he can’t release his ego enough to let it be. But maybe that’s what addiction is. Addiction to yourself, the need to stuff yourself with goodies for yourself to the exclusion and concern of everything else.
So what does his Momma think? What would his Poppa say? Well, if you watched Mrs. Woods you would have seen a woman in pain, a Mother disgusted with her son. She sat in the front row dressed in solemn black as if in mourning. Her face was unemotional, but the body language said it all. Her arms were folded tightly across her body and she did not look at Tiger, nor did she look at any cameras. Her eyes were averted the entire time. This must be a family-thing.
The Woods’ aren’t interested in making good television. It’s about them. Tiger’s transgressions were an insult to his family, and Mrs. Woods will let you know that. She doesn’t care about what you or I think, but she will tell you how disappointed she is in her son. This is her pain, not yours. Tiger doesn’t care about you either, and he will go through the motions of telling you he is sorry on his terms. This is not your pain or your life, it’s his. Except that they have been all too willing to let you put your life on hold while you watch him chase a ball and enjoy the creature comforts of the Simple Life. Oh ya, that’s what I’m talkin’ about.
Nocka, please.
[Oh, and the Vanity Fair cover? My daughter makes that face when she doesn't get what she wants. And my husband and I tell her that if she wants certain things then she's going to have to put on a pleasant face because people who pout and make "cross-faces" don't invite good things to come their way. She laughs after a few moments, and then a beautiful smile erupts on her beautiful face. When she is in a more positive and receptive state, we tell her that it is absolutely OK to be mad, sad, angry and upset, but it's not productive to be that way for too long. She gets it. She is almost 5 afterall.]
Tags: Media Icon, Michael Vick, Press Conference, Tiger Woods, Vanity Fair
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ithinkyoushould. Think Neon Pink.
Tags: Karim Rashid
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ithinkyoushould. Dance Your Ass off. Peas-Style.
Tags: Black Eyed Pease, Dance
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ithinkyoushould. Be, Sexy, Cool, Flirty, Girly.
Tags: Cool, Flirty, Girly, Sexy
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ithinkyoushould. Make Some Cookies.
Adobe Photoshop Cook from Lait Noir on Vimeo.
Tags: Adobe Photoshop Cook, Graphic Design
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ithinkyoushould. Get to know someone smarter than you.
When I recall my creative design studio days chez Bruce Mau, Del Terrelonge and Yabu Pushelberg, I will always remember one of the many Life Gems I learned sitting next to Bruce in one of those timeless Eames chairs. It was this: No matter what station in life somebody happens to be in, whatever their personal triumphs and struggles, no matter their apparent educational level, you can always learn something.
No, he didn’t say exactly those words, but the vibe of the studio environment was generally like that. What he did say was something along the lines of ‘always assume that in your day to day existence, somebody will have an intelligence level similar to or higher than your own.’
The awesome thing was that he didn’t tell you to assume anything. He said it as if this was a personal mantra of his own. As a result, when the trend in the design world began to follow the incredible genius of David Carson, and “amplify the visual noise,” his studio concentrated on “privileging the reader.”
Now imagine applying that approach to your day. Not the go-against-the-creative-trend-grain, though it would be cool to see something different, and if you’ve got the creative chops, why not?, but the-give-yourself-the-opportunity-to-believe-that-people-can-be-as-smart, -if-not-smarter-than-you, grain. That in world of double entendre and double dipping–George, it’s NEVER gonna be ok, and the appeal for the lowest of the lowest common denominator, somebody out there might actually want to give you the clear straight goods—without manipulation and subterfuge, without extra gloss and whiz bang, without convincing you that you really don’t know what you’re talking about.
Imagine that somebody might want to take the veneer off those hermetically sealed emotions packaged as products, and let you have at it, the way that makes sense to you.
This kind of thing is happening in fashion. Because fashion isn’t fashion without a timely, and well-placed gimmick. Plus, it’s Fashion Week y’all! And if we allow ourselves to think critically on the topic of Fashion Week, it’s the type of interior world that most of us will never have the privilege of experiencing except for those who protest a little too much, and let us mere mortals glimpse the inner workings via “candid” displays of subliminal taunting. But back to topic:
In a matter of two days, Coco Rocha, the size 4 Canadian Supermodel, told the industry to go and eat itself, and we were subsequently told to care about it. And, no surprise, it again brought the issue of women and weight to the forefront. Well, let’s be clear, we’re talking about skinny young girls in the fashion industry and the so-called problematic issue of weight. It’s no dirty secret that in fashion [as in Hollywood], thin is an automatic in. Jealous, much?
The folks who bring you the impossibly fashionable, impossibly thin girls, are all about the illusion and theatre, drama and desire. And the drama and desire has absolutely nothing to do with what you or I may or not be able to achieve on the Master Cleanse [fixated, much?] because these young Glamazons are not like you or me.
Me? I never wanted to be a supermodel, I just wanted the opportunity to play one on TV. But the farthest I got was putting a long white towel on my head, sucking in my lips, [cuz back then so-called pouty lips were like, too black], getting my friends and sisters to do the same and strutting the sidewalk like we were all that. But I digress…
What I like about the Coco Rocha position is that she takes responsibility for herself and her choices. And at the ripe old tender age of 21, when I was still picking my nose, she proclaims quite confidently that once she understood what was really going on, and once she reflected on what was being asked of her, she started to make her own decisions. If those decisions meant that she would work less, she was cool with that.
So instead of “blaming” an entire industry, a unique subculture that takes no prisoners—just girls who seem to like to get punished for being extra cute—and holding it hostage to the “norms” of the larger culture, she dutifully “humanizes” the issue by letting us know that this really isn’t so much an issue of the Born Ridiculously Pretty versus the rest of the world, it’s about what you want out of your life and the measures [and skipped meals] you take to get yourself there.
And while we’re applauding what might never become a trend in the industry, I think you should align your thoughts, impressions, and ideals with those of a few extra smart people who dare to go against the grain. Now, if your garden variety 5″10, size 4 supermodel can do it, so can you! Take that biotch!
Tags: Bruce Mau, Coco Rocha, Fashion Week, Terrelonge, Yabu Pushelberg
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ithinkyoushould. Pay as Much Or As Little Attention to John Mayer’s Isms As You Deem Necessary.
You heard it and read it. I heard it and read it. You might have been outraged by it, or you might have ignored it believing that,
A. He said it and meant it.
B. He said it and meant it and it was “taken out of context.”
C. He said it and meant it, and you could care less, or
D. Who is John Mayer?
Me, I’m apt to pick all 4. I read it, thought hmmm. I heard his apology, and went hmmm, again. But as I reflect on the drama, I wonder what if anything we have to gain in knowing what this non-black guy with some skill on the gee-tar thinks about outside of his gee-tar. Rob Tannebaum, the guy who wrote the article thinks you should care about what really went down. Here’s his article from The Daily Beast.
The moment following the news I had much the same sort of reaction as when Justin Timberlake ripped open Janet Jackson’s top at the Superbowl and exposed her boob. The media/public reacted so strong that Justin went into hiding and Janet talked smack about it being a “wardrobe malfunction.” It was also very much like when Bill Clinton fooled around with Monica Lewinsky but when confronted with the situation, he said that he “didn’t ever have sex with that woman.” And when Kramer used the N word in a comedy club he said he was responding to a heckler. And yes Tiger, we know, your wife went to retrieve your clubs from the car, and not break them over your ass.
Which leads up to the precarious nature of “interpretation”—picture me with little rabbit fingers on the side of my head:
- Yes, Justin ripped Janet’s blouse, and if people liked it, it would have been cool.
- Yes, Clinton had sex with Monica, just not the kind you and I might have imagined.
- Yes, John Mayer has no experience and/or desire for Black Chicks, and the Aryan nature of “his privacy” is really no big deal.
- Yes, John Mayer used the N Word [doesn’t matter the context], and the jury is out on whether White Folks will EVER be able to use it.
- Yes. Michael Richards, aka Kramer uses the word on the regular and forgot that he was on stage and not everyone thinks that the N word is funny.
The fact is, when it comes to pop media culture, there are no discernable rules. Who gets in [or to quote John Mayer, who “gets a hood pass”], who stays in, and who gets kicked out—until a reality show comes a calling—is subject to the whims and fancies of a demographic that nobody admits to knowing, much less cares about. And so the public accepts the deception in the guise of an apology and these folks who commit these random acts of stupidity and subsequently cry us a river when they get caught, somehow redeem themselves in our eyes.
Call me naive, but in my mind, John Mayer will always be known as That Guy. [No, not the racist guy, the incredibly arrogant and stupid guy].
Tags: Janet Jackson, John Mayer, Justin Timberlake, The Daily Beast
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ithinkyoushould. Get a Different News Perspective.
Don’t believe everything you read. Don’t believe everything you hear. Don’t believe the hype! This could very well be the beginning of a Paranoid’s Manifesto. But there’s something to be garnered from reading between the lines, not taking absolutely everything at face value, and getting a second opinion.
As human beings, I’d like to believe that we can all very well be forgiven for our transgressions, but when our biases and politics are flaunted like they are the only biases and politics that are worth considering, well, then, Houston We Have A Problem.
The other day, I referenced an entry I had read on a blog that I follow called Urban Native Girl Stuff. In it, she expressed that whatever the Olympic corporate body had “offered” the Native People in terms of representation at the 2010 Games was “token.” In many ways this was enlightening to me because sometimes being entirely wrapped up in the issues of my own life, I hadn’t thought about what issues might be affecting someone else. Naturally, this situation isn’t just unique to me—although I have from time to time considered writing under the pseudonym, the Narcissist’s Manifesto, snicker— because looking at Life from a variety of vantage points, we all might be able to agree that: Life is Short, Life is Long, Life is Beautiful, Life is Hard, Life Sucks, Life Rocks. Indeed, Life is What You Make It.
Certainly Life is a Journey. You can either be informed, or stay blissfully ignorant, You can get in the game, or sit on the sidelines, you can see the glass as half-full, or half-empty. And on it goes.
In terms of news, you can get your information from a variety of sources and resources which may or may not help you to pick a side. Some people are all about the rage, and others are inclined to appeal to your rational side. It’s up to you. And in saying that may I present some more news food for thought.
Tags: Independent News, Vancouver Media Co-op
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