How to Wrap a Pin Turban

Leah V. shows you how to wrap an easy pin turban with a Kermit the Frog colored scarf. 

And don't forget to follow her on IG: @Lvernon2000

The Black Girl with Many Faces

When I was small, I was very watchful. Thoughtful. I’d watch Mom do everything. I wanted to know how she did it, how long it took her, her mannerisms. A little black sponge, I was. For the most part, I got it. But I never understood why Mom was extra nice, extra perky, and sounded differently when she talked to white folks. It all clicked one day when we were at the doctor’s office, that like her, one day I’d become a black woman with many faces, too.

I was around eight years old. It was hard for me to climb up on the clinic’s bed because my legs were so short. Mom pulled over a step stool and up I went. I sat on the rough white disposable barrier, kicking my scuffed gym shoes from Pay-Less at the edge. Back and forth. Quiet as usual as Mom pulled out her planner and jotted down notes.

Now, mind you, I was renamed Amerra (Islamic meaning is princess) when Mom converted to Islam. So, that’s the name I knew. None other.

The doctor knocked. A white male wore an off-white lab coat and had a manila folder in hand. He shifted through the papers, looked me dead in the eye and said, “Leah?”

I froze. Who was this Leah? My name was Amerra. Mom probably noticed the baffled look on my face, so she quickly said in the most white-black voice she could muster, “Yes. This is Leah.”

My name was Leah, too!?! I had two names. Not possible.

After some snooping, I saw that the name Leah Vernon was on my social security card and on my birth certificate. And that Amerra Jaahan was a Muslim name that she’d given me when we converted. I then found out that Mom didn’t name me Leah at all, but my grandmother had when I was born because Mom didn’t want any more children after my older sister and that I was to be given up for adoption… Ultimately, I wasn’t, but that’s a completely different story.

I never asked Mom why she didn’t tell the white doctor my Muslim name. Or why she put on her ‘professional’ voice when she answered the phone versus talking to us or her black, Muslim friends.

I already knew what most little black girls figured out eventually.

That as a black woman, we must wear many faces. And control what we tell others about our true selves for protection. We are not allowed to be our true selves. Because then we become stereotypes. We are called aggressive. We are called angry. Bitter. Rough. Loud. Too woke.

I was out with a girlfriend for brunch, which is what prompted this essay. She told me that her good friend, who happened to be white, said, “why can’t you, as a black woman, be your true self. I mean, I’d accept you in your truest form.”

My friend and I burst out laughing as she recanted the story. That’s how ridiculous the white girl sounded. We both blamed white superiority/privilege to the comment she made.

No, hunny, YOU, as a white woman CAN be a white woman. A black woman, cannot be true to herself because when she does, she makes everyone around her uncomfortable. She makes the black man uncomfortable with her tirades of being treated with respect. She makes the white man uncomfortable because when she stands up for her rights she is seen as aggressive, unattractive. She makes the white woman uncomfortable because when we say that ‘All’ women ain’t the same here in America we are seen as combative. I can go on and on…

The sad part is that I have fallen into this hole, this ongoing system of changing my genuine self to ‘fit’ in with uppity white people. To fit in with ghetto black people. To fit in with extreme Muslims. My family. My ex. Expectations set and looped in a strange time zone.

I’ve worn so many faces. And it has become so normal, so ingrained that I don’t even notice that I’m doing it. It just turns on like a light switch. But sometimes, when I catch it, I am disgusted. This is not you, I say to myself.

But what do you do? What do you do when it’s become a part of your everyday routine to be someone else for the sake of others comfort?

My friend and I ended the conversation with no resolution to wearing faces that weren’t ours. Our mothers did it. Our grandmothers did it. Hell, we’ve been doing it for hundreds of years. And they survived. We can survive, too. But at what cost?

We may not have all the answers. Or be the most perfect. Or most feminine. But no one can deny that we are Perseverant. Endurable. Strong. We both agreed that black women are the strongest of all women. I know that I’ll get flack for pointing out that fact, but you have no idea unless you’ve walked in my shoes. My black mother’s shoes. Or my black grandmother’s shoes. With that innate strength, we get beat down the most for it. We are the lowest on the totem pole. We get it from all sides. We are taken and objectified. We are told we are useless by our own men. We are thought less of by other cultures. We are picked apart and left to dry in the sun.

But still, we have this unending strength and beauty against all the odds.

Frankly, I wouldn’t change being a black, Muslim woman for anything. 

Beauty Review: Zahara Cosmetics

So, this week were going to get a little light-hearted. Last week, I bogged you guys down as well as educated you about mental illness and this time were talking about makeup???

On my blog, you never know what you’re going to get.

Zahara Cosmetics (located in Malaysia) sent me a nice little package filled with eyeliner, nail polish, matte lippies (oh, yes!), and eyeshadow pallets. It took about two weeks to get all the way over the sea and to my doorstep, but I was excited to try out the products.

As consumers, we are bombarded with tons of cosmetic companies telling us that we ‘need’ ABC product. When I link up with someone or tell them that I’ll write a review for their product there’s gotta be something that makes them standout. What makes Zahara Cosmetics any different? Well, I’m not a spokesperson for this brand, but let’s start with the nail polish. The polish is water-permeable and the formula allows oxygen to pass through to the bed of your nail. So, if you happen to be Muslim it is ‘wudu’ friendly. Also, Zahara’s polish doesn’t contain the five main harsh chemicals that other popular nail polishes have. They also have a ‘small business’ feel, which is cool.

Polish: I used the polish (Lovender) for my Tribal-Inspired shoot. And it glided on easy, dried fast, and I actually didn’t need the 2nd coat. It lasts about as long as other polishes on the market.

EyeLiner: I have very sensitive eyes. So the liner didn’t bother my waterline and it glided on smoothly.

Matte Lippe: I’ve tried all kinds of lipsticks, especially the cream mattes, so I know a thing or two. I’m wearing ‘Mystery’. So, the lippie glides on great. And the coverage is very good. No thinning like Colourpop or some of Kat Von D’s lip line. When it dries, it does gets a little gritty. I suggest exfoliating your lips before application. I’d say the lippie is far from Colourpop but slightly underneath Anastasia Beverley Hills in quality. There is minimal transfer as well.

Eyeshadow Pallets: I used the ‘Fifth Avenue Pallet’. Overall, the coverage was pretty good. The only complaint that my MUA had was that all the colors were very ‘shimmery’ and she wished that they had a few mattes available in the set of four.

Overall, I enjoyed the products, especially the lip colors.

You guys check out Zahara Cosmetics and let me know what you think.

Model + Stylist: Leah V.

xoxo

Leah V.

This is What Real Body Positivity Looks Like

Just a few year ago, I would’ve never felt confident enough to stand next to Reetu in front of the camera. Not because Reetu is intimidating (she’s quite the opposite!) but because of my own insecurities about being the ‘token’ fat girl in a group of skinnies.

Yes. I was that girl. The fat girl who tried to keep her stomach sucked in when she sat down. The girl who never ordered food with her thin friends at a restaurant in fear that someone would catch her fat ass stuffing her face. The girl who would watch as her thinner friends got attention from the guys as she slowly crumbled inside and thought herself as repulsive. The constant thought always swirled around my head, if only I lost all of this weight then my life would be normal. If only I could change myself to have a body type similar to my size 2/4 friends, then my life would be much better. If I could only hop on the scale and it was a 1 in front of those two digits instead of a 2 or 3 then things would run oh-so-smoothly.

Models: Leah V. and Reetu

Did I starve myself to achieve that idea? Of course. I got down to my ‘goal’ weight. And still ultimately saw myself as a fat slob.

 It was never about the number on the scale. It’s about our mindsets toward body image in general.

And when someone who is dying to be thin (or to even gain weight) figures that out, oh man, it’s a freeing experience. To eat in public and actually enjoy your food. To sit down, breathe normally, and let it all hang out. To dance, roll those large hips and own the floor is freeing.  

This is what body positivity is. It’s about living the best life you possibly can with what you’ve got. A lot of people believe this movement is solely for ‘fat’ people. Nope. It is for ‘All’ bodies.

Before our shoot with the very talented Romanian-born photographer, Remy, began we met up. Now, Reetu is a Youtuber as well as a brand ambassador and she is super cute. Just looking at her photos on Instagram, you get a sense of her poise and confidence. Her face is beat and her hair luxurious and flowy. Social media has definitely created a lot of stereotypes. So, we assume that if a girl is too cute then she’s stuck-up, or she can’t hold an interesting conversation.

We met up in a quaint coffee shop and in walks this very short Indian girl with a huge smile on her face.

“OMG. You look taller in your photos,” I say.

“You too,” she replied.

We both crack up because we are indeed short. LOL.

MUA: TheeeBeautyQueen and Reetu

But as I got to know her more, she divulged that she too has been picked on about her height. She almost touches five feet tall. We are women. We are always going to have a feature about us that we get teased about or something we’d like to change. We are constantly bombarded with images of unrealistic looking women who have been chopped and injected and told that that is what real beauty is.

No. NOOOOOO! I define my own beauty. Not men. Not some magazine cover with a girl with fake tits. Not the media. Not my family. Not even the fat-shaming trolls on the internet.

Reetu and I gave no F’s during this shoot. We sported double chins, short legs, wide smiles, brown skin, and confidence. We wore invisible crowns. We had deep conversations during intermissions. We allowed our creative juices to flow. We embodied what real body positivity looks like. What real women and girls look like.  

Life’s too short to hide. Too short to despise your body. It’s your body. It’s an amazing body with its stretch marks, lumps, and rolls. It’s magical. You are a damn unicorn!!!

xoxo

Leah V.

Identity: I Wanted to be a White Girl

It’s embarrassing to admit that I wanted to be a white girl for a large part of my life. I wanted the two-parent household, the bed with the canopy in the suburb, the size medium North Face jacket, the long, bone straight hair that always got in my way, and all the privilege and fun that came with it. 

I was in my teens when I drowned myself in white culture. I knew their white movies, their white songs from the 80’s and 90’s, and I just knew that if I lost weight and became ‘flat bodied’ I could pull a white male to marry and have mixed children with, just hoping that they’d have a much better grade of hair that I had.

I had my Caucasian future planned out.

MUA: Madinah M.

Pasted on my wall and doors were pages torn out of magazines of attractive white women. I studied them every time I woke up and every time I went to sleep. I cried softly in my pillow wondering why God put me in a black body. A fat body. An unattractive body.

Magazines were important. They held weight. They notified me of the trends—what’s in and what’s out. Black faces were out. Black bodies were out. White faces, no curves, and long legs were in. Straight teeth, full lips, and light hair was in. Smooth skin, cinched waist, and narrow noses were in. I had none of those attributes. And would never attain any without the help of cosmetic procedures.

I hated myself and no one even knew. I hid my identity issues behind aggression and haughtiness. I was that bitch. That no one could mess with, penetrate, or compete with. But in that mindset, I was stagnant and didn’t even know it. I was closed and warped. I was a white woman trapped in a fat body. I was confused and misunderstood. I was a ball of contradictions. Dying inside, nowhere to turn, no one to talk to about it, no role model to seek out.

Vest: Society+

Just thinking about it now, makes me sad. Makes me angry. It also makes me ponder, how many other girls out there are going through this silent identity crisis? Competing against magazine reality? Wanting to be something that they could never be?

The magazines I trusted and idolized, the magazine that utilized only one model of color in the entire spread who was usually on the lighter side or mixed had betrayed me. The media only highlighting rail-thin models who were as tall as giraffes betrayed me. Those very white movies that I studied weren’t real at all because white-based happy endings didn’t happen in my black, Muslim world. All of it was a sham. Created solely to boost the agenda of what the standard of beauty was and to degrade another. Photoshopped covers of Paris Hilton and Britney Spears was all I could think of. How smooth their skin was, no stretch marks, both breasts the same size, not one hair out of place. I believed that they had attained perfection. That God had given them complete bodily perfection.

Model: Leah V,

Until I figured out that the media wasn’t for me. For us. For the underrepresented. The disabled. The dark. The short. The so-called unattractive. The Muslim.

I had to hit rock bottom before I realized who I was. Who I really was as a person from the inside out. And on the inside, I was not a white woman. I no longer wanted to be a white woman. God didn’t make me a white woman for a reason. And I had become content with that fact. I dived in my blackness wholeheartedly like a mermaid. I created my own beauty standards. Producing my own body positive and beauty campaigns with my own funds. My blood. My mental illnesses.

I stopped believing in those magazines. That reality TV show. Those airbrushed and photoshopped photos that I silently died to attain and started believing in my own abilities. My skills. And I emerged as a stronger black woman. A proud black woman. A crazy Muslim girl in her voluptuous hips and thoughtful mind.

xoxo

Leah V.

I’m Muslim, But I’m not the Poster Child for Islam

I blog from the heart. I don’t have ten blog posts in the que or any idea of what I’ll say prior to. I basically blog about anything that pops into my head at the moment: an idea, a pattern, controversy, or clichés. A very disorganized blogger to say the least. But I feel that it brings about this certain spontaneity that I’ve come to love and enjoy.

Yesterday, I took a good friend and vintage store owner a hearty bowl of chili. She’s just as wacky as me and we vibe. She wants me to headline one of her in-store events. Talk about perseverance and failure. As we chatted about the logistics and how I felt about the event, the conversation took an interesting turn.

Now, she isn’t Muslim but I am. Some days I’m an OK Muslim and other times I drop the ball, fall into a bowl of hot soup, tumble down a mountain, and land face first into a puddle of mud. Yes, it’s true. Unfortunately, I’m not the poster child for Islam as many think or believe.

All Photos By: Clos Productions

But let’s go back a bit.

I told her that I may have a possible collaboration with a male model coming up.

“This might cause some controversy. Ya know because I’m Muslim and all,” I divulged.

“This would be such a cool topic to discuss,” she said. “Muslim women in artistic fields. Where is the line drawn between art and religion?”

I pondered the question for a bit. Where was the line drawn for me? Then I thought of Noor Tagouri, the covered hijabi who was featured in Playboy. How did she feel when she made the decision to collaborate with an established ‘sex’ magazine? Did she understand the ‘Haram Police’ backlash that she ultimately got? As a public figure, would I be tested with the same opportunities?

My friend then asked, “So what if Vogue called you right now and offered to have you on the cover of the magazine, but only if you pose with a man with his shirt off. Would ya do it?”

I didn’t even have to think about it. It’s Vogue for goodness sake. “I mean, I wouldn’t have an issue with it, but I’m sure some Muslims would.”

Photo: Clos Productions

But then things got really confusing inside my head. As a Muslim woman, why wasn’t I outraged at Noor for being in Playboy? Why wasn’t I uncomfortable modeling with a male? What’s wrong with me? Am I like half a Muslim or something? And the rocks started to fall. I thought about all the shoots I’ve done and my clothes being tight, the lipstick heavy, and I rocked a turban and not traditional hijab. What kind of role model was I being for young Muslim girls? Was I teaching them the wrong rules? Am I saying that it’s ok to go against Islamic guidelines? Rules that are set for a reason.

Oh, boy.

When I first started blogging, I never said I was Muslim. If people assumed or asked that was one thing. But most people just thought I covered my hair for style purposes. Why did I do this? Because I didn’t want to shame Islam. I didn’t want people to get me confused with what a ‘good’ Muslim girl looks like. So, I hid it because it was easier. It’s always easier to run away instead of hitting the issue head on.

On the flip side, I argue, what does an ‘acceptable’ Muslim look like? Sound like?

I haven’t found out yet and I probably never will. I know so many Muslims on different levels of deen and life. Some are very horrible people, the scum of the earth while others are the sweetest and most caring individuals you’d ever meet.

One thing I do know is that art and expression is life for me just as my identity as being a Muslim is. Is it possible for religion, spirituality, and art to go hand in hand? Or will there always be a tug of war between these identities?

I remember when I was little, I wanted to take up ice-skating and cheerleading. Both had a uniform of tights and leotards or short skirts. Mom wasn’t going to let me do them because I was Muslim and Muslim girls didn’t show their curves. As a kid, I was so limited. I couldn’t do anything fun and be Muslim. I couldn’t write stories that had kissing in them and be Muslim. I couldn’t go to prom and be Muslim. I couldn’t say anything wrong and be Muslim! Being Muslim as a child and teen wasn’t an amazing time for me.

What I wanted to ask was what could I do as a Muslimah…

Makeup: Madinah M.

I believe that’s why I am so ‘out there’ with my expression and art today because I was stifled for so many years. Unable to explore and experiment.

So to tie all this randomness in, I say that I’m not a poster child for Islam, but in saying that have I just become the poster child for Islam? LOL. Have I become what one of the ‘real’ Muslim women in 2016 looks like?

I don’t know. You be the judge.

*Shoutout to Carlos at Clos Productions for the super fly photos. See more of his work at Clos Productions on IG.

XoXo

Leah V.

Style: First Time Wearing A Bisht

In Westernized fashion, they tend to believe that the clothes must accentuate the female body, hug her curves delicately. And of course, I thought the same way. If it didn’t have a shape, then I wasn’t touching it. I was already plus-size; I’d look like a garbage bag for sure.

Since I became a style blogger, I’ve been a lot more ‘out there’ with my fashion choices. I like to up the risk and try new things. Also, I’m waaaaay more comfortable with my body now, so anything goes!

It was the last week in Ramadan. My friends from Yemen invited us to a feast fit for a king, and to top it off, they had the hookahs in rotation. I thought that the night couldn’t get any better. One of the Yemini women had a wide set of hips, small waist, and petite chest. Similar to my body type. Between puffs of smoke, we chatted about shopping and how hard it was to find fashionable items for us ‘hippy’ gals.

Her eyes widened. “I have something for you,” she said and disappeared into the back room.

She brought out a black and gold embroidered bisht. It’s like an oversized abaya. I’m not sure where it’s origins are in the Middle East but trying it on felt like I had instantly turned into Arab royalty. I paraded around her living room, gushing about how beautiful it was. I finally took it off and placed it back on the hanger. I handed it to her.

She put her hand up and shook her head. “It’s yours.”

I died.

A happy yet fashionable death.

Xoxo

Leah V.

The ‘F’ Word: FAT

At Buffalo Wild Wings, I ordered lots of food. Hey, I was super hungry. Plus, I have a tendency to order too much then complain about being too full halfway in. Yes, annoying. I know. I’m working on my indecisiveness.  

Anyhow, after the waiter leaves, I said to my guy friend playfully, “OMG. I’ve ordered half the menu. I’m soooo fat.”

His eyes swelled with fear then shock. If he had pearls, he probably would’ve clutched them.

At first, I thought I had lipstick on my teeth. “What?” I croaked.

“You. Are. Not. FAT!”

I rolled my eyes. “Boy, bye. I am fat.”

“No.” He shook his head. “You are curvy. Trust me, I know fat. You’re just thick.”

“I’m fat. I’m obese. I’m overweight. It’s fine.”

What was interesting was that the ‘F’ word for him was so negative, so vile that he couldn’t possibly equate that nasty attribute to me. He got an A for effort though. Haha. But like him, so many other men and women avoid the word ‘fat’ or if they do use it, it’s become one of the main cuss words.

I’m not even going to lie. In my adolescence and early 20’s, I was once one of those people that if someone called me fat, I’d melt and dissolve into the wind. No coming back from it. I’d go over it a million times in my head. Fat. Fattie. You’re FAT! Why the fuck are you still fat? Be skinny. Skinny is better. Skinny is acceptable. You will be great when you are skinny.

Funny thing is that when I did have an eating disorder and got ‘skinny’, I was the unhappiest I’d ever been in life. But, everyone else seemed to dote on the fact that I’d lost so much weight so fast and blah, blah, blah.

Why do we glorify thinness but bash fatness? And I know the internet trolls with their Google degrees are going to come out of their troll lairs with the following argument: fat acceptance glorifies obesity and health problems.  

Firstly, I welcome them with the real ‘F’ word. After that, my rebuttal consists of not only fat people have health issues. I’ve been fat mostly all of my life, and I’ve had no major health problems. I have fat and skinny friends with health issues. Good or bad health doesn’t discriminate like we do. And if I did have bad health from being fat, that still has nothing to do with you because you aren’t me nor do you pay my medical bills.

Back to our scheduled program…  

So why am I talking about this? In an interview, I was asked about the word ‘fat’. Why is it such a negative word? Why do most girls and women cringe and melt when they are called it? And most importantly, when I decided to reclaim it.

I reclaimed the word when I started having open conversations about body acceptance with other body positive activists in the community. The conversations were real and enlightening. These women (and men) were not only fat but they were other things, too. They were fat and business savvy. They were fat and confident. They were fat and stylish. They were fat and athletic. They were fat and sexual.

They smashed the fat stereotypes in half and I set out to do the same.

Let’s say this at least eight times: Fat isn’t a bad word. Stop making it that way. It’s starts with you. It’s an adjective, people. Just like any other adjective. Sometimes, we’ve got to take a look at ourselves and stop being so freakin’ sensitive. So what if your boyfriend calls you fat. Do what I do and say, “Yes, I know. Anything else you want to point out Captain Obvious?”

If you are obese, overweight, curvy, or thick, 9 times out of 10 you are probably fat. And that’s ok. And if it’s not ok, then change it. Simple as that. But let’s not wallow in the fact that our bodies are shaped differently or the scale gives us a number that isn’t ‘acceptable’ to society’s standards.

Why not start living right now? Don’t let a couple pounds deter you from enjoying what life has to offer. Your body is good so be good to your body.

You’ve only got one.

xoxo

@Lvernon2000

Trois Soeurs: West African Accessories

The power of the internet.

As a blogger, I’m still baffled that people come up to me or message me about how much they love my blog, can dig what I’m doing, and they can actually quote what I wrote in my latest post. All I can do is smile from ear to ear. People actually read the words that I write! Plus, with the power of social media, I’ve been able to reach people in different countries and even locally that I would’ve never known otherwise. Such a great resource.

Moody Blues Set

I get a message through Instagram from Marcy (pictured above and she took all the dope photos). She tells me that she gets what I’m doing and that she has a few custom pieces made in West Africa that she wanted to show me. So let’s do coffee. Cool with me. You guys know that I can be a friendly person. Umm. Sometimes. LOL.

We set a date and met. She told me that she traveled back and forth from Benin to Michigan with handmade cuffs, earrings, and necklaces to sale.

“These beautiful earrings were handmade by Kastro in her workshop in Benin. She wraps ankara wax print cloth over framework to create a unique set of accessories. Every pair sold provides 1.5 hours of tutoring to a child in need through our TS Education Fund,” says Marcy.

Handmade Raffia Earrings by Sikart

So I love Trois Soeurs for several reasons. They have some dope, quality pieces that will set you apart from the other fashionistas (I’m obsessed with African Print!) We know the individual who is creating and crafting each item (providing ethical and safe work). And lastly, the money is going to a good cause: education for children in Benin.

Moody Blues Set

We are doing a GIVEAWAY!!!

Two lucky winners will win either the earrings or the cuff:

<Rules>

1.      Follow @Lvernon2000 and @troissoeursbenin on Instagram

2.      Tell us how you’d rock the earrings or the bangles under the blog post (be creative!)

3.      Two (2) winners will be picked at random on Sunday the 24th of July 2016 (noon EST) and have the items shipped to their residence within ten (10) of the contest’s end.  

*Winners have twenty-four (24) hours to claim their prize and send appropriate information for claim and shipping of prizes. After twenty-four (24) hours, the next winner will be chosen. So keep your eyes peeled. Lol.  

***Update*** Having technical issues with my website. So, in order to enter to win one of the pieces of jewelry go to @troissoeursbenin on Instagram and comment under my photo. And the contest is extended to Sunday, July 24th at noon EST!

Wax Print Teardrop Earrings are up for grabs!!!

Wax Print Bangles up for grabs!!!

Pictured above are the items we are giving away. Don't wait! These beauties can be YOURS! Can't wait to see your responses.

And don't forget to check out TROIS SOEURS on social media and shop:  

https://www.instagram.com/troissoeursbenin/

https://www.facebook.com/TroisSoeursThreeSisters/

http://www.troissoeurs.org/

Naturally Flyy Detroit

This is my 2nd year being asked by Naturally Flyy Detroit to run not one—but two ‘Headwrap’ workshops at their annual Naturally Flyy Detroit Presents: A Natural Hair Experience.

All photos taken by Madinah M.

I’ve always seen Etta and Jenn (the founders of Naturally Flyy Detroit) around the city at different cool events and their aura, their energy is none less than can be described as pure radiance. They’re the kind of Black, Amazonian queens that you just have to meet in person to bask in their sisterly glory.

So when they asked me to participate, I said ‘yes’ on the spot.

I get asked to endorse a lot of the things. But I think in these days and times, it’s important to ‘believe’ in what you’re endorsing. And as you gals (and guys) know, I have to believe in what I endorse. It’s gotta have that ‘umph’ factor that I’m looking for when collaborating with anyone, really.

Why I rock with the Naturally Flyy Movement? Well, it’s a dope and unapologetic movement for not just Black women, but ALL women to be just as Flyy as they want to be, in whatever shape or form.

In the age of everything is cut, snipped, and lightened, we ARE hungry for change and enlightenment.

And they bring it. 

There’s this old-school notion that sistahs can’t get together to support one another. And at one point, I believed it. It was always that one (or in my case, many) Black females who didn’t ‘like’ me or thought I was ‘doing too much’ because I’m confident in who I am and could care less about the thoughts of others.

They believed I should’ve conformed to the normalcy which is society.

#TellHimBoyBye

When my friend and I were invited to the 1st Naturally Flyy event, all that changed. As I walked through the very crowded corridors of Java City with my huge colorful turban on, I got smiling faces and bright eyes.

They screamed, ‘Yaaaaassss, queen,” “Lookin good, girl,” and “Tell me how you wrapped that turban!”

And They embraced me with hugs and kisses. Love.

Posing with Naturalista/Blogger: Naturally Act

That is #BlackGirlMagic people.

Uplifting. Encouraging. Smiling at another beautiful queen. 

Smiles are infectious...

Naturally Flyy just isn’t a natural hair movement. Oh, it is SO much more. It’s an open forum, it’s a community, and it’s love.

They embody empowerment, female entrepreneurship, and sisterhood. 

Keep on rockin’ Etta and Jenn.

The world needs more people like yall in it.

Let's talk about these accessories for a moment. The bracelets and earrings are courtesy of Trois Soeurs : Three Sisters a socially conscious brand working with artisans in West Africa & funding tutors for kids in need. www.troissoeurs.org/shop-1/natural-coconut-earrings

Check them out! They have some dope pieces for modest prices and I will be doing a giveaway with them soon.

Follow me on the Gram! @Lvernon2000

Wardrobe Breakdown:

Turban: Flossy's Suitcase

Shades: Alley & Eye

Jumpsuit and Vest: Target

Shirt: Forever 21

Sandals: Payless

Editor's Note: A Photo Doesn't Capture Our True Struggles

My blog has always--and will always--be a 'body inclusive" blog. I don't discriminate. And nor should you. All bodies are amazing bodies. Idgaf who says otherwise. But I want to talk to my big girls (and guys) for a hot second.

Over the weekend, I posted this photo. Check out the caption. Extra. I know. Lol.

@Lvernon2000

I'm getting old. I'm going through some shit in life. OK. So I saw this photo in my archives. It was an awesome moment. A moment of carefreeness. When in reality, at that very moment that I posted it, I felt like the ugliest person on the planet. I didn't feel like getting out the bed, seeing anyone's face, or 'talking' about the issues at hand. So, I took it to Instagram. I decided that maybe all the angst I had built up could be channeled into something more positive and helpful to the world. The picture ended up going semi-viral. I got tons of shares, likes (more than I ever had before), and lots and lots of positive comments.

Nope. No fat-shaming occurred...yet. LOL.

A lot of the comments were from women from all around the world praising me for doing something that I find easy and take for granted. But they didn't know that I was in bed feeling so eh! In retrospect, I find it incredibly simple to find clothes that fit, grab a photographer, beat my face, and pose. Even on my bad days. I find it easy to post my pictures, use all the right hashtags, and create a bomb caption. It's nuffin!

The eye opening comment was from a woman who basically said that in her country if you were bigger there weren't any clothes that fit, let alone did large women ever consider modeling.

*Jaw Drop*

And there I was in bed sulking. I was taken aback by her words. And all the other comments of women (of all sizes) just reaching out and telling me that I gave them a little hope and confidence to get out there and try something new. Even if I felt like crap, I was perked up by the love and support. They even trusted me enough to share their stories. A strange blogger from Detroit.  

A lot of us take for granted the small things, the things we think are easy for us. To someone, confidence isn't an issue. Yet half way across the world (or right next door) is someone struggling to hold their head up and look at themselves in the mirror. We never know what someone is feeling by what they post on the internet or, even, from what they say. Sometimes, the pain is buried so deep that it's hard to express.

What I'm saying is that we have to do better by one another. Stop judging a book by it's cover. Because that's not always accurate. It doesn't matter where we come from or what we look like. This isn't a popularity contest or whose the best looking or whose got more followers. This is real life. What we say, how we treat others, and what we type matters. And someone else is looking and searching for that someone who's going to bring them back up. The feeling of helping someone else, inspiring someone else, is enough pleasure for me. And, frankly, they got me out of my funk. When I read those comments, it's like wow, they really did that. And I got to put a little sparkle in their eyes, too. We kinda helped each other without even knowing it. This is where my enjoyment from blogging and social media comes from: The people. The interaction and sharing of information.

I really want to encourage you to inspire someone else--in person or through social media. However you do it, I don't care. Just do it! But the goal for this week is to uplift someone. Because you never know who needs it.

xoxo

Leah V.   

Natural Makeup Tips For Girls With Melanin

Oh, how I love makeup. I just went to Sephora yesterday and almost had a heart attack because all of the pretty colors and lippie samples. I touched and sampled...everything. It's been a tough ass week. And I deserved it. Spending money that I don't really have. But guess what?! Don't judge me.

So I want to chat about skin and makeup application and my regimen for my caramel complexion. In these sets of photos my MUA, Madinah M., gave me a natural, everyday look. And everything that I know about cosmetics comes from her. So pay attention:

If you don't have eyebrows like me, lol, then you'll have to fill those bad boys in with a pencil. I suggest using shades of brown depending on your complexion. I use Wet'n'Wild in dark brown. Black pencils are waaaaaay too harsh. Don't do it! After you fill them in, use a spoolie (basically, a clean mascara wand) to blend.

After the brows you can do a simple wing line. And there's really no simple way to do a wing line. I'm still struggling. But there are many, many makeup tutorials on YouTube that will help ya out. I like to use the eyeliner pen with the felt tip by Stila. Better precision. Plus perfection takes practice, people! So if you end up looking like a raccoon, at least you can say you tried. Tip: less is always more. Haha

Next, you can do some false lashes if your feeling pizzazz-y.

Get some foundation. I like Estee Lauder Double-Wear Liquid Foundation. It's nice and sheer. Not too much for a natural makeup look. I dab it all over my face in dots then use this soft synthetic foundation brush to blend the shit out of it.

Please. Please. Get the right color foundation. Don't be out here with an ashy lookin' face. Don't know your correct color? Try at least three different shades. The one that blends into your skin seamlessly is the right color. The ones that look ashy is too light and the ones that make you look several shades darker than your real skin tone is too dark.   

Apply a little blush. You'll need two soft, angled brushes. One for the light one and one for the dark one (M.A.C.). The peach toned blush (Klean Colour), I placed on top and then the darker one, I placed on the bottom (for a little contour action). Stroke at an angle, blending towards your side burn.

Apply some gloss or a matte cream lippie. The nude gloss I'm wearing is Milani Bare Secret.

Boom! There you have it. A natural, yet beat face to the Gawds. Hope you enjoyed my little makeup tips for girls with some melanin.

For more makeup and fashion looks follow us: Madinah and Leah V. on the Instagram!

Fat Girl Guide: Affordable Shopping

Person: Ohmageeerd, Leah V. you must have so much money because you always look so fly. Me: *Side-eye*

Not sure how many style/fashion bloggers get this but We. Are. Not. Rich. A lot of us fund our own shopping obsessions. Haha. And if you are a blogger who is rich. Kudos. Keep doing you boo boo!  

Anyways, style doesn't necessarily equate to having lots of money. *Clears throat* Let me repeat this again. Some people think because they have all the designer clothes and bags and nails and lashes that it automatically makes them fashionable. Nope.  

Rolling in dough doesn't mean that you are stylish. The most stylish people that I've met are people who are creative, thinks outside the box, and aren't apologetic about what they wear or where they get it from. Before thrifting became the 'IN' thing to do, there were tons of people going through those old racks of clothes at the Salvation Army and rocking that shit like it was no tomorrow.   

The long shirt $24.99 (Ashley Stewart) and necklace $10 (Charming Charlie's) are both clearance items.

1. BE A CLEARANCE RACK QUEEN

Don't be embarrassed. Walk right in the clothing store and bypass all the pretty mannequins and head straight to that crazy looking rack with items of random clothes hanging off it. You have made it to the clearance section, where you will dig through all the 'out-of-season' items to find a gem.

And listen. You can't be lazy when it comes to searching the clearance rack. You've got to be patient and dig in if you really want a deal. I'd say about 90% of the time, I find at least one thing I love.   

 *Also applies to online shopping. Hit the clearance tab on your fave website.

Long open vest on clearance $16.49 (Target) and floral leggings are from Torrid using a coupon.

2. Combine Purchases with Coupons

Lots of stores have rewards programs, haute cash (where you buy a certain amount and get credit on your next purchase), and of course, coupons. When they ask for your email or address, give it to em! Not only will they keep you updated on new shipments, but once in a while a nice little coupon comes along with the advertisement. Those will help keep down the cost of your purchases. Now, I try to shop at only the places I have coupons for. Of course, sometimes, you will have to buy something for a special occasion and not have a coupon, but for the majority of your shopping, try to do it this way in order to save every valuable dollar.

Tip: Put on a puppy dog face and ask the cashier if they have any coupons behind the counter. Sometimes, it works.

Sweater (Kmart) Nicki Minaj Collection $10.99 on clearance.

3. Thrift Stores and Consignment Shops

Check out your local vintage, thrift, and consignment shops. Basically, these clothes have been worn by other people. They've either donated the clothes or are lending them to be resold.

Tip 1: Be careful with clothes worn by other people. My advice is to thoroughly check over resale items then wash them at once after you've purchased.

Tip 2: Not all resale shops are alike. I've been to some pretty bad ones and then I've been to some really nice ones. Check them all out and see which one is the best fit for you.

Tip 3: See something you like, but maybe a button is missing or it's too big or small? Buy and repurpose it. Get creative people!  

Boots are borrowed and so is the bracelet!

Photo: Frankie Fultz

4. Borrowing

On most of my shoots, I have borrowed at least one item from a friend. Didn't have the money, but I had a shoot. You have to do what ya gotta' do. And, frankly, I'm not even ashamed to admit it. By looking at these photos, you wouldn't even know that fact. We all have that friend or family member that has all the cool stuff. You may not have the means but still want to look cute and feel good. Go borrow!

And make sure you return it clean and unscathed. It's nothing worst than a person who borrows your shit then messes it up.You break. You buy... 

Everything I have on in this photo is clearance or inexpensive.

Photo: Reel Clever Films

5. Invest in Your Clothes Wisely

Don't buy things just to say you have it or to show off. I see girls all the time with every designer label known to mankind on their bodies, walking around with a chip on their shoulder. And it's usually the worst outfit ever. Wear what you want because you like it, it fits your budget, and it makes you feel good.

By no means, am I saying to not spend money on quality clothes. Because, every once in a while, we will splurge. But just make sure you aren't breaking the bank to buy that Michael Kors dress at Saks.

Let's keep the conversation going: What's the best item you've found at a thrift store or on clearance? What's you best or worst splurge item?

Hollywood In Detroit Gala

Last month, I was contacted by Amanda Bankston who works with several organizations, including Detroit Passport to the Arts. I was referred to her by a friend, Ramona, who owns this fab vintage resale shop in Highland Park. She said that I'd be a great addition to co-hosting their "Hollywood in Detroit" event at the Detroit Institute of Arts.

Any reason I have to dress up and get my face beat, you know I'm there!

Photo courtesy of Grace Liang

A few other local bloggers and fashion enthusiasts joined me on stage to talk about their businesses and their fashion inspirations.

As you can see, I played the fashion curator here, which I was very nervous about. I didn't know there was going to be an actual stage and a real microphone. Haha. I was also given notes with key points to remember, and I have a really bad memory which added to the nervousness. All in all, I didn't eat much before the show, so I was good and most importantly, I didn't vomit!

Right to Left: Grace, Jason, Me, and Ramona

As you all know, I'm in the D (what us natives call Detroit). And there's not a lot of opportunity here for creatives like LA or New York. So it's a definite hustle. Also, finding a genuine support group is also one in a million. Did my ladies come and support? They sure did. I was happy to see my friends and blogger buddies weather the snow storm to come support me at the event. I love yall!

Plus my friend/MUA came to take my pictures. Hehe. She's the only one who can get my good angles.

Rocking the Sephora Matte lippie in red. It's a really great product that doesn't leave your lips too dry like a lot of matte creams do.

Feelin' myself. Ladies (and gents) I suggest you try it out sometime. lol.

Ain't nothing wrong with a little belly jiggle. Yall feel me?

Ensemble Breakdown:

Turban: Joanne's Fabric Store (Yup, I'm crafty.)

Dress, Accessories, and Stole: Forever 21

Long Sheer Outer Dress: Torrid

Flats: Christian Sirano for Payless  

#BlackGirlMagic

This right here...is the epitome of #BlackGirlMagic

Your too angry. Your too aggressive. Your clothes are too tight. You got on too much makeup. Is your husband old? Does he beat you? Why do you cover your hair? Oh, you're from Detroit? You need to lose weight. Do you carry bombs under your scarf? Oh, you write? Everyone does that. Hehe.

These are a few of the real life questions and comments that I've received over the past few years.   

With the presence of Google, people just don't seem to get it. They don't get that my labels or the attributes that I was born with don't always define ME.

I like 80's alternative rock. I love soul food. I have several piercings. No tats. I have like a trillion degrees. I'm butt broke. And I enjoy Sci-fi fiction and X-men.   

Out of the blue, a local photographer emailed me. She introduced herself very nicely as Brooklyn Cashmere, said she followed me on the gram, and would like to do a shoot collaboration.

Here's the thing: I love to collaborate with unheard voices, local businesses, people who are hungry but don't get the recognition they necessarily deserve, or just don't have the access. For me, it's like the underdog winning the race.

I emailed her back saying fa' sho! WHEN and WHERE?

We met up in Downtown Detroit at this little bowling/pizza place. It was a weekday. No one was there. Great. We sat down and just talked. I asked her what she was about, what her angle was. She told me that she connected to my words more so than my fashion. I thought that shit was deep. Because, I'm like a writer first and fashion is a close second. She said that she was apprehensive to contact me because people in this industry can sometimes have some fucked up attitudes. I told her, trust me, I know the deal. People get a couple of followers on Tumblr or Instagram and their whole attitude changes into Mariah Carey status.

If you know me, or met me in person, I'm the type of gal that goes off energy and vibes. Brooklyn's vibe was cool, down-to-earth. I told her what I was about, too. My journey. I asked her what concept she had for a shoot. She said she wanted to go with the flow.

I said let's do something powerful. I want to be a rock star. And not just any rock star, but a rocker turbanista. I wanted fierceness. Anger. Confidence. And beauty wrapped into one.

I wanted to scream, kick, sing, smash things, and bring the Naomi Campbell attitude to level: 1000. Brooklyn was like ok! Lol. I searched Pinterest for ideas. Found some dope photos. I sent my MUA, Madinah some beauty ideas. And the day came and I was excited to kick ass.

This shoot was super experimental, and we all went in with a positive attitude. As artists, we have this idea in our heads of how we want something to go and it goes the way its supposed to.

I love for my photosets to tell the reader or viewer something. I want these photos to get you talking, get you thinking, and get you up and out of your shell. The shell that we all have a tendency to hide behind. Trust me, I have a few of them.

So to loop back around, remember all those crazy comments above? The ones people had said to me? This shoot is for all of you. Yeah, I'm still broke, haha. But I'm much happier because I'm being true to myself, and at the end of the day, that's all that really matters.

Yes, I'm angry, and, yeah I'm assertive still, but I have some good qualities, too. And they all intertwine together to make me, ME.  

Shoutout to the genius behind the camera, Brooklyn Cashmere and my MUA and friend, Madinah M.

Yall want the look?

Turban: Wrapped by me!

Dress: Divno Je

Shades: Forever 21

Jacket: JC Penney's

Jewelry (including lace gloves): Hot Topic

Leggings: Torrid

Boots: Payless

Daily Inspiration: What's Yours?

Inspiration: The process of being mentally stimulated to do or feel something, especially to do something creative.

Synonyms: creativity · inventiveness · innovation       

I don’t use a lot of mainstream media for inspiration because, at times, it’s frankly chocked full of lies and deceit. And we see the same things, over and over again. People using trends and taking them to the extreme where no individuality or originality is even shown. These characteristics still exist. You’ve just got to find something that excites you, then place your own spin on it.

Makeup Courtesy of Madinah M. (@Theeebeautyqueen)

Exploring Pinterest, I stumbled upon a few of Tyra Banks’ photos. I adored Tyra when she was on “Fresh Prince” with Will Smith and even more so when she started America’s Next Top Model. I learned soooo much from watching that show as a teen. Not only is she beautiful but she’s also a businesswoman. I like those ‘not just a pretty face’ types. The ones who have strong wing lines but also has a degree in philosophy.

But back to inspiration. I get inspired by many things: cool people, good books, bad ones, fat girl blogs, and movies. Photos and visits to the museum, pondering old art, and just plain silence. Sometimes, I inspire myself by looking back on all the dumb shit I’ve done and all the situations I’ve handled like a normal person which resulted in not going off on someone who probably deserved it.

I think it is very important to be inspired as well as strive to inspire others. People need that. Genuine inspiration. Because that leads to hope. And with hope, you can do anything and go anywhere and be ok. There was a time where I was hopeless, inspiration-less. It was the worst time in my life. To be in a deep, dark hole. Just stuck. You can’t see anything but that dirt wall. The sun is out there somewhere, but you don’t even know it’s there. That was me. Before I hit the deep end, I sought out help. Which was the best decision I ever made. She made me see again, and feel. I was inspired by the small things like the sun, and friends, and a good TV show.  

Now that I know how important it is to be inspired, I try to maintain that level of mental stimulation at all times. It keeps me sane. It keeps me happy. It keeps the darkness from seeping inward.

Fun Fact: I'm wearing raggedy socks underneath. HAHA.

It’s Friday. Go out and do something tiny. Smile at a stranger even though they may not smile back. Paint your toenails. Grab a scoop of ice cream. Or just sit in your car at the park with the windows down and let the fresh air flow through.

Wanna know what I'm wearing for the Tyra Bank's inspired shoot?

Faux Fur Stole: Forever 21 (Cancun)

Dress: Forever 21 Plus

Gloves: Claire's

Clutch: Target

Jewels: Hubby :)

TCF Style Brunch Series--Atlanta

I've known about The Curvy Fashionista's events for the last few years that I've been blogging. But I never got a chance to attend one. I mustered up enough guts to email Marie and ask about a press pass. She sent me one right away :) 

The Curvy Fashionista created by style blogger Marie Denee has several events throughout the year and this style brunch located in Atlanta focused on "owning your beauty" with guests @PHAT_Girl_Fresh @JibriOnline @mimijonline and @PatrickTCooper

The style influencers were hilarious, candid, and inspirational. I learned a lot about 'owning' ones self and accepting your flaws and all. The crowd was energetic and confident and fierce. The food was poppin', too. LOL. I enjoyed myself despite having only a few hours of sleep. And for those who know me, I need my beauty rest. Haha.

A few fashionistas waiting to take pictures in front of the backdrop.  

Crystal of Society of Harlow glowed.

I had to get a selfie in.

Was totally fan-girling. I got to finally meet the outspoken and oh-so-fashionable, Maui of Phat Girl Fresh.

MUA on deck. Lol.

Jibri was in the house. I've been eyeballing her clothes for a while. I can't wait to get my first piece.

Dope shades from @SheBossEpic

You know I HAD to cop me a pair. I'm in love.

My Outfit Deets:

Turban: Caniff Gift and Variety

Dress: Avi & Viv (Target)

Jacket: JC Penney's

Headpiece and earrings: Payless

Turbanista Chornicles: Detroit Street Style

On the streets of Detroit, I walked to my boo's grand opening for her new storefront located on Cass Ave. with my burgundy matte lippie and some dope ass shades from Forever 21. By the way, if you happen to be in Midtown go visit iLovePurple.com (cool accessories business locally owned by an awesome Detroiter named Brittany).

After the event, I wanted to take some outdoor photos of this historic area of Midtown Detroit. Unbeknownst to me, we caught the iconic W. Willis street sign.

So here's why this area is so iconic--to me. Years ago my mother used to take us to this very store on the corner (the yellow building). It was once a health food business (before being organic and natural became a 'thing'). We'd be in this store for hours. She'd talk to all her friends that worked there and shop for soy milk and honey. And to see where it is now, it's soooo different. New businesses are popping up and art venues. It's boomin'.

I lived and roamed Detroit before it became 'cool' to live there. We stayed in the bad parts, where poverty was real and unavoidable. Detroit isn't a fad. We've got history. So respect the city!

Ooooook! So enough of my angry black girl rants. Haha. Yall, came here to see what I'm wearing. So, let me tell you my fatspo (Short for: fat inspiration) first. I wanted to look cute and modern yet rugged like one of those people who read Vogue magazine but could also possibly start a fire without matches. Bingo!

Wardrobe:

Forever 21: Scarf/Shades

T-shirt: JC Penney

Sleeveless Vest: Target

Leggings: Torrid

Boots: Lane Bryant

Big sis took all the photos and had to get in on the shoot, too.

How much do we love that velvet blazer? A lot.

I want to see some of you guys' 'street style' looks. Make sure to hashtag #LeahVDaily on the gram (Instagram) so I can take a look at all of your street beauty :) 

Big Thanks: New Blogging Camera

For those of you who don't know, my refurbished camera from Amazon that I used for blogging and events broke near the end of last year. Samsung wouldn't honor the warranty and the Amazon seller went ghost. For most of us, money is always tight. As I sulked about not having a camera to continue my blog and vlogs, this organization I was working with told me that I should put my creative community to the test: start a GoFundMe page.

Like many others, it is hard to ask for something--anything. You feel weird involving someone in your own problems and issues. Siena (The Void Academy) told me that I had to get used to it. I was an artist and as an artist you create art and people WANT to help you succeed. They do? I pondered. Did the people around me really want to see me have a nice camera to continue creating?

In fact, they did. 

These pictures are the first photo I took with my Sony camera that my community allowed me to purchase. We raised $850 in 30 days. People shared, donated, prayed, and sent good vibes and we made our goal. I was like a kid in a candy store when I went to Best Buy to purchase it. I couldn't have been more happier.

So this post is for every single one of you who put in the work for little ole' me.  

Big thanks to:

Mary Carter, Dana Chase, Susan Cartsonis, Bonnie Culver, Taylor Polites, Siena Oristaglio, Kaylie Jones, Barb Taylor, Samia Bowe, Scott Mitchel, Lauren Stahl, Cynthia Ramsey, Linda Hunt, Zarinah El-Amin, Gregory Fletcher, Suzzane Ohlman, Stephen Gliatto, Shawna Farmer, Camilla Vernon, Nicole April Carter, Nisha Sharma, Jasmine Nicholson, Aleka Thrash, Victorious ME, and all the other countless supporters!

Photo: Madinah M.

Model: Leah V.

Dress: Forever 21        Shoes: Torrid

Lippie: Colourpop

Evolution of a Black Blogger

The photo above was my first real deal photoshoot for my blog: Beauty and the Muse. It was back in 2013, when I had a change of heart on the whole 'blogging' thing. I saw a few other bloggers have some professional photos on their sites, so I set out to do the exact same thing. But I wanted to be different. Daring. Shocking. I wanted to get the people talking.

Style Theme: Every freakin' color possible. I mean I wanted all the neons. I wished to look like a human bag of Skittles. And I did.

This photo made it's rounds on Tumblr and Instagram. I was pleased. I wondered what else I could do with this thing called fashion blogging.

I had blogged before. Had no idea what I was doing. People thought I was weird for doing it. I just wanted to write and be creative. A few people liked it, but not enough to actual keep the blog going, so I tore it down. Then I had an awkward YouTube channel where I disrespected reality stars, modeled the worst fashions, and suffered a public mental breakdown right on camera. Ugh. So this time, I just was going to put it out there, respectfully, and see where it went. I was going to be famous in no time. Ha!

Or so I thought.

Warning: I never, ever meant to become or aspired to be a blogger of any sort. I was just a black girl who liked fashion and liked writing. 

Anywho, I attended every event in the city. I worked at ghetto fashion shows in Detroit to get my name out there. I was used, misused, and abused by wannabes. Promised lies. I traveled to New York, got a little feature on HuffPost's Instagram page. I traveled to DC and did an awesome plus-size event there. Met some cool people. And then I went home.

I posted about how much fun I was having while going through my own internal struggles, the ones that weren't so fancy, weren't so pretty like the pictures I posted. But as long as I kept up the façade, right? Who cared about a blogger and her issues...

There was something missing. I enrolled in a masters program for creative writing. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. All I knew was that life was too short not to take chances. So I took one that changed my life forever. While in school in Pennsylvania no one really cared about how I dressed or what I posted on social media; they were more interested in me, my writing. Wow, I thought, that was definitely a first. I felt like I was finally at home.

I learned something while going through those highly rigorous two plus years of graduate school; I learned influence. Attention is great. Especially positive. Praise is even better. But what do we choose to do with the influence that we have is the most important of all. And it doesn't really matter what field were in, creative or non, its all the same.

So I pulled back from blogging and asked myself: why are you blogging?

At first I wanted to snatch the campaigns and work with the top people and be noticed by those who supposedly mattered. I wanted to be flown out to the important places and catered to like a queen. I wanted to soak up all the fame and glamour. 

Women, my audience, would message me and belittle themselves and say they wanted to be and look just like me...I was disgusted with myself. Why would they want to be me? Who am I? I posted pretty pictures with no substance. I became a droid blogger just like the others with amazing backgrounds and perfect teeth but with nothing to say. I had influence but not a lick of substance.

In 2016, I re-launched an entirely new site. I have a clean slate. My goal for Beauty and the Muse is to not focus on numbers or stats or saying the right thing ever so perfectly, but to create and build a community of creatives. Black creatives, white creatives, plus or straight. I want this to be a place where we can have open and honest dialogue. I want you, the reader, to take something from me, anything, and share it with someone else. I want my influence to matter. Even if it is to just one person. That's one person more than yesterday.

Let's keep the conversation going. What are some of the ways you've come to a realization that you are, in fact, evolving? I'd love to hear your thoughts.   

Reflection. Growth. Evolution.