Vintage Beauty - Bill and Betty

Bill and Betty

Here we are in the late 1940s digging on my ultra-glamorous mom and her favorite cousin Bill.  From the many stories she told me during her lifetime, Mom and Bill were childhood best friends.  They spent countless Saturday afternoons at the movies rooting for the guys in the white hats, roller skated all over Winston-Salem together, and routinely risked their young lives hiking along train tracks. 

Check out my mom in her belted velvet coat.  Have you ever seen such a gorgeous topper?  I wish I'd been there to touch it--I bet it felt like corn silk.  I’ve looked at this photo millions of times and wondered what color the coat was.  What do you think--sapphire blue or forest green?  And the shoes--burgundy or coffee brown?

Everyday Beauty - Never Enough

Everyday beauty is found in small gestures.  It can be a surprise, like looking up from stormy grey thoughts and seeing a rainbow.  Like passing an abandoned warehouse dressed in a breathtaking mural.  A clear sunny day in the midst of a relentlessly bleak January.  Breathtaking sunsets, the romance of a full moon. 

Everyday beauty is loving and being loved.  Knowing that you are treasured adds to the equation of daily life.  Being cared for when all is right with the world, and when all is devastatingly wrong.  Everyday beauty is a gift that unlocks the heart and soul.

Everyday beauty is in bloom at "Casual Friday."  For Groundhog Day seek out your own everyday beauty. Surprise yourself.

Beauty

Everyone should embrace beauty and incorporate it into their everyday lives.  Call it elegance, style or grace, but make it as critical to your existence as fresh air.  Take a big breath of beauty when you’re stressed.  Open a window and let beauty into the room--an azure sky, the delicate scent of fresh flowers, the lightness of the air after a summer rain. 

I took these lovely photographs while traveling in London and Paris. When you feel knotted or broken take a walk through these pictures, then seek out everyday beauty.  You'll find it all around you!

London 2012

Lime Tree Hotel - London 2012

Windsor Castle 2012

Shop Window - London 2012

Opera House - Paris 2009

Shop Window - Paris 2009

Paris 2009

A Leaf from the Family Tree--Lucille!

Aunt Cille in the 1940s

Meet Lucille Faison, my great aunt, my grandmother’s sister and best friend.  Aunt Cille was a woman of constant style and good taste.  She was born in Winston-Salem NC, and settled in Washington DC as a young woman. 

I loved sleeping over at her apartment when I was a kid.  She always had a tin of barbeque Fritos waiting for me; her apartment was cozy and immaculate; she had a box stuffed with office supplies that I could use to explore my creativity--staplers, colored paper, pens and pencils, notebooks, and rulers.  Santa even visited me at Aunt Cille‘s!  One Christmas Eve when I was a very sleepy six-year old I thought I saw Santa leaving gifts under her pink artificial tree!  Probably one of her boyfriends wearing a red suit.

My auntie was tall (5’10”) and slim, and would have been a runway sensation in today’s world.  She was an elegant party girl who loved beautiful clothes, but couldn’t find any that fit well.  In the 1930s African-Americans weren’t permitted to try on clothing in DC department stores, so she created the wardrobe that she wanted.  She window-shopped exclusive shops, studied the structure and detail of garments she admired then went home and made them.  Her closets and armoire were stuffed with tasteful day dresses, gorgeous evening dresses, and Sunday-perfect suits. 

In her heyday she was the “hostess with the most-ess,” a popular dinner companion and dancing partner.  Her dance card was always filled, and her house parties featured riotous laughter over the card table, lots of trash talk and tales, and rockin’ good music. 

She worked as a housekeeper for decades for a wealthy family and raised their three children, but never lost her dignity and style.  Every day she dressed for work as if she was going to a high-paying office job.  Her prowess with a sewing machine inspired my Mom to get better acquainted with our Sears Kenmore sewing machine.  

Here's my favorite quote from her, “Good times don’t owe me a thing.”  I’ll drink to that!  She had the time of her life during her lifetime with no regrets.  Thanks, Aunt Cille, for modeling the graceful life.

Enjoy these pics of sassy, sensational Cille.

Aunt Cille (L) and her sister (R) and their beaus

Sunday Stylin'!

And The Real Winner Is….

Viola Davis

Viola Davis is fierce. No discussion.  No dispute.  No doubt.  For the 2012 Academy Awards she took the extraordinary step of going for the glam while leaving the wig at home.  Ms. Davis was stunningly genuine.  She rocked her natural hair, looking vital, youthful, and incredibly gorgeous in the process.

She ignored the ridiculous beauty standard that prods black women to glue and sew hair they bought onto their scalps, damaging their natural locks in the process.  When are we going to reject a foreign beauty standard that is completely irrelevant to us?  When will we embrace our unique and often breathtaking beauty?  We don’t need lace front wigs to be pretty!

Celebrities are now the standard bearers for style and behavior, taking over the role that was traditionally our mothers’, aunties’, and grandmothers’.  So we need to see more Viola Davises strutting the red carpet wearing glorious Afros of every circumference, locs, springy coils and twists, and intricately-designed cornrows that rival aerial views of Midwestern farms.

Yes, black women are naturally beautiful.  There should be no further questions.  Thank you, Ms. Davis for making that statement.

Naomi Sims: 1948-2009

Naomi Sims -- simply the best. Mahogany carved Barbie doll with the high wattage smile who embodied Black glamour at the height of the Black Power movement. The alternate take of the All-American beauty. She looked like me -- and my friends Tanya, Camille, and Charlotte. She strode away from the myth of the light-skinned Black beauty as desirable. Reminded us that we come in a rainbow of hues, and that the wonder of the blackness can produce people of every imaginable skin tone.

Was super before the term "supermodel" reduced all long limbed beauties to sameness. Paved the way for other dark skinned beauties such as Iman, Alek Wek, Naomi Campbell and Roshumba. With Naomi sistas approached the intersection of the women's movement, the Black Power movement and the redefinition of beauty with less trepidation and an unlocked suitcase full of strength and style.

Thanks, Naomi, for being so fierce, so fabulous, so gorgeous. You left us too soon -- we'll miss you.

A Hair Raising Tale

Last week a friend said to me, “women should not be slaves to their hair.” I couldn’t agree more. She recently changed her style from a head of carefree bronze-colored twists to a neatly constructed updo. She looks great in both styles, but she prefers the low maintenance path.

I was admiring her new ‘do as we chatted with two of her friends. When we segued to the subject of hairstyle vs. workout, she agreed with her friends that on the first day of a fresh ‘do it’s okay to skip the workout. After all, a woman’s gotta have one day of eye-popping gorgeousness! I mentioned women I’ve known who avoid workouts – and forgo the life-changing benefits of improved health – because of “hair issues.” I’ve heard otherwise sensible women complain about lugging hair products and equipment to the gym or on vacation. I know women who will not exert themselves at all for fear of “sweating out their hair.” And others who never let their men see them without their hair done.

I’ve been a hair slave myself. Spent lots of money on perms, blow dryers, setting lotions, mousse, gels, and rollers of every size and color. Used a hot comb while playing James Brown’s “Hot Pants” in the background as I tried to avoid scorching my scalp. Dragged my sick and broken body to the salon for a touch-up when I should have been in bed under a doctor’s care. It was a lot of effort for perfection – perfectly straight, perfectly coiffed hair.

Eventually I got tired of bad hair days. In 1997 I went to a local barbershop to have it shorn. Made it too short for an Afro but still completely natural. Tossed out the products, appliances and accessories. And, guess what? I’ve never felt better or sexier. I don’t worry about rain, humidity, wind or sweat. Many say that it was a bold move and often end with the statement, “I wish I could wear my hair like that.” It does take a lot of nerve – it was three years for me from decision to action. But now I can workout like a warrior princess, run outdoors in a spring shower, spend the day at the beach, or make love until dawn without a care.

Is this a political statement? Maybe, but it’s personal politics. Freeing myself from an expensive, time consuming ritual. Finding a stronger sense of femininity than that proscribed by tradition and popular culture. Redefining beauty. Creating a new self.

So now I swing my earrings instead of my hair -- they don’t mind the rain, either. And much love to my wonderful barber, Charlie Jones, who keeps me looking sharp.