It’s Friday!! Definitely want to keep it light and fun.
One thing I’ve learned from Twitter is that my peers respect my opinions on music.
A few months ago, I coined the term #cuttycarols. #cuttycarols are seduction anthems. In the 80s, compilations of these songs were called “Get the Drawls” or “Panty Dropper” mixtapes. In 2010, SBG presents #cuttycarols.
For the second summer in a row, my bike sat in the basement.
It had been almost two years since my seventh birthday, when I’d asked for a bike. When my mother rolled it into the house on October 9, 1990 I had been positively giddy. It was hot pink, purple and all mine. I looked forward to summers of happily peddling down Castalia Avenue with the rest of my friends, with a smile on my face and pigtails blowing in the Cleveland summer breeze.
I walked into the kitchen in search of wine and snacks. Found no wine or snacks. Went back to the laptop.
I stared at the blinking cursor.
I caught the performance of “Teach Me How to Dougie” on 106 & Park and realized that if I was 14 years old, I’d know that dance and the names and birthdays of everyone of those lil dancin’ niccas in skinny jeans.
I went back to the fridge, hoping wine and snacks had magically appeared. They hadn’t. Continue Reading »
I’m sure we’re all familiar with the notion that a woman comes into her own after 30. I, for one, have been obsessed with it since I hit my mid-20s. Truthfully, since 25, I haven’t looked forward to the years between now and 30. It looked like just another five years between me and the woman I want to be. And so I set the alarm on my biological clock to awaken my fire power at 3:31 AM on October 9, 2013.
Today, as I flipped through the August issue of Essence Magazine, I had an epiphany. The feature (written by my FAVORITE writer, Joan Morgan) covered Janet Jackson, in all of her sexy 44-year old glory. In the article, she reiterated those familiar sentiments… Continue Reading »
Just a girl with a writing habit, using a blog to share my stories and passions. These are the tales, interests, and observations of the quiet nerd in the corner of the bookstore; the professional woman strutting down the street in slacks clutching her Blackberry; the dork in bed by 9pm on a Saturday night; and the B-girl in the middle of the dance floor getting down in her sensible shoes. Welcome to the world of The Skinny Black Girl.
