Last Thursday I went to a SWV/Faith Evans concert in the IndigO2 with two of my girls including Sankofa. It was amazing (ain't nothing like a 90's party y'all!)! I can't believe those girls can still blow like that! Power to them, I say. And they looked damn good too. It was so surreal seeing them up there, I felt like a 12 year old just watching them up there, it really did throw me back in time.
This was one of the books that I read late last year when I returned to my roots as a bookworm. So here is the review I have been meaning to do for (more than) a few months for The Knife of Never Letting Go...Shout out to Sankofa for lending me this book when she went to Ghana. She knows me too well; I trust her taste in books!
Title: The Knife of Never Letting Go (love the title by the way, it caught my attention straight off the bat)
Author: Patrick Ness
First published: 2008
Plot summary: Todd Hewitt is a boy in Prentisstown, where all boys become men at the age of 13. Todd has one month to go, and as far as he knows, Prentisstown is the only settlement in the world. After a native group known as the 'Spackles' released a germ, all the women have died, meaning that the men of Prentisstown are a dying race. As a side effect of this germ, the remaining men in Prentisstown can hear each other's thoughts, known as the ever present cascade of ‘Noise’...Find the rest of the plot summary here.
Review: I thoroughly enjoyed this book. I cannot say that it was the easiest read. But sticking at it paid off, I love the way in which Ness creates a whole other universe and something about the story reminds me of Malorie Blackman’s Noughts and Crosses and Margaret Atwood’s A Handmaiden’s Tale, two all-time favourites of mine. I think it’s the whole broken world thing they all have going on. The story line is complex enough to keep you reading but straight-forward in a way that it needs to be so that you understand the plot. Oftentimes, in a book that creates a whole new world complicated plots make the book a long and tiresome read, however this book does not suffer from such a failing. Perhaps, because it is young adult literature (a favourite genre of mine) the author holds back from over complicated story lines. The concept behind the book was a real winner, no so much that Prentisstown is loud and male. But I love that Todd and Viola have to learn to communicate around silence and noise. It’s an important lesson. I love how Todd is initially intimidated by her silence and has to learn to overcome this. A true coming-of-age book in every sense, not just Todd but the whole world literally has to come of age in order to defeat Mayor Prentiss. One thing, however, that did strike me as a failing was the books’ conclusion. I feel like in Ness’s bid to get a follow up book deal, the end of the story was mistreated. It felt like a rushed, contrived ending which was totally unnecessary. I had a moment at the end of the book when I wanted to punch something coupled with a weird sense of déjà vu. I really felt for the protagonist, like, here we go again. The poor boy will have to wade through this lunacy for another 400-odd pages in part two! In my opinion the book would have benefitted much more from ending the story of our protagonist right there. However, having said that if you bought me the follow-up *hint, hint*, would I read it? Hell yeah!
Rating: Another four Nsoromma’s out of five.
Firstly, I apologise for the fact that we let the past couple of months go by without any kind of blog post and I hope you forgive us. Life is getting in the way of blogging it seems and we just can't have that now can we?
Well those of us currently stuck in the UK are experiencing a weather emergency. For the third year in a row, the UK seems to have completely shut down in the face of a little snow. Airports have been shut, train schedules have been completely turned on their heads, some buses aren't running and there's nary a bit of grit or sand where Nsoromma and I live. Yes I even busted my ass on an icy patch whilst attempting to pick up Nsoromma's foster brother from his school. We were effectively snowed in for three days while the rest of London struggled to get around. I know we like to pretend that this weather is 'unusual' but after three years, it looks as though it's here to stay. Other countries seem to manage it fine and I think we're all running extremely low on patience.
What makes all of this worse was that they knew there was snow coming well in advance. Why are local councils caught out again and again even with advanced warning? What are they doing with our council tax? Funny thing is I used to love snow but now it feels as though nature's having a big old laugh at our expense. How have you been coping with the snow? Love it? Hate it? Comment away!
(What I wouldn't give to be in Ghana right now...)
Diversification:[dih-vur-suh-fi-key-shuhn]. noun- the act or practice of manufacturing a variety of products, investing in a variety of securities, selling a variety of merchandise, etc., so that a failure in or an economic slump affecting one of them will not be disastrous.
How many time have you walked past a black owned shop, to find that not only does it specialise in hair products, but it's also laden with mops and buckets, DIY tools, cleaning products, plantain crisps, bread, water and everything and anything else its savvy owner can think of? (Let's not forget the money transfer booth, and the calling cards on the side)
Don't get me wrong, I am not oblivious to one's need to branch out into other markets, especially in these times, but I cannot count the number of times I have walked past shops that seem to be nothing more than glorified junk sales, filled with a mish mash of different products. It's horrific to see the confusion going on in some shop windows. It just leaves me thinking, "mate, you're not being a smart business man, you just look confused!".
I took this photo of a shop on Plumstead High Street today. I remember the first time I passed it. I was gobsmacked! How are you going to name your shop "MONEY & CALL SHOP HAIR SALON MUSIC" and expect me to take you seriously? If you're going to branch out, at least invest some thought into it!
Earlier this year, I was walking down the same high street with Sankofa, when another one of those "anything will do " shops caught my eye.
You may not notice it at first glance, but there is actually a lot of activity going on in this shop. How many products and services can you see up for sale here? I'll start you off with the £5 hair cut being advertised in the window :)
(This was written about a month ago in the run up to my sister's wedding...I'm only really now getting the chance to post...there will be a few of these. Soz) Sankofa has always (well at least ever since I have known her) made it very clear that a big church wedding and the surrounding bru-ha-ha is not for her. And I think there have always been parts of me that agree with this stance; but still I cling to (my?) dreams of a big white wedding. Perfect in every way. With me and the hubby smiling at the fore. As one of those children who seemed to always fall into the (mis)fortune of being a flower girl, I thought I had seen it all, in terms of the tears, tantrums and abject misery that are behind the scenes of some of the weddings I have been involved in. However, as an adult what you see is WORSE. My sister is in the process of organising her wedding. She and her hubby-to-be thought it would be a bright idea to get married in KUMASI (Ashanti region, Ghana)...even though her and her hubby are based in EDINBURGH...mum lives in LONDON. Well...all I can say is they had a dream. Hmmmm...good luck to them! We are finally in Kumasi with two weeks to go; hubby to be is still not here. At this point, I'd sooner pack up and head home. It's the biggest nightmare you could imagine. I'm talking a cold war between the parental units, an overly determined wedding planner with illusions of grandeur, the rainy season, a travel agent under investigation for fraud and underselling tickets, wedding invitations which do not name the groom spelt correctly, bridesmaid dresses having to be re-done, flower girls BY FORCE, big dreams and an ever decreasing pot of money...oh...and money grabbing distant relatives. JOY. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. And I would like to throttle the sister. She keeps crying. It's doing my head in. I'd like to slap her. HARD. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. By this point I'm in such firm agreement with Sankofa. Allow this long nonsense. I'm having a registry wedding. KMFT.
(This was written about a month ago in the run up to my sister's wedding...I'm only really now getting the chance to post...there will be a few of these. Soz)
Sankofa has always (well at least ever since I have known her) made it very clear that a big church wedding and the surrounding bru-ha-ha is not for her. And I think there have always been parts of me that agree with this stance; but still I cling to (my?) dreams of a big white wedding. Perfect in every way. With me and the hubby smiling at the fore.
As one of those children who seemed to always fall into the (mis)fortune of being a flower girl, I thought I had seen it all, in terms of the tears, tantrums and abject misery that are behind the scenes of some of the weddings I have been involved in.
However, as an adult what you see is WORSE. My sister is in the process of organising her wedding. She and her hubby-to-be thought it would be a bright idea to get married in KUMASI (Ashanti region, Ghana)...even though her and her hubby are based in EDINBURGH...mum lives in LONDON. Well...all I can say is they had a dream. Hmmmm...good luck to them! We are finally in Kumasi with two weeks to go; hubby to be is still not here. At this point, I'd sooner pack up and head home. It's the biggest nightmare you could imagine. I'm talking a cold war between the parental units, an overly determined wedding planner with illusions of grandeur, the rainy season, a travel agent under investigation for fraud and underselling tickets, wedding invitations which do not name the groom spelt correctly, bridesmaid dresses having to be re-done, flower girls BY FORCE, big dreams and an ever decreasing pot of money...oh...and money grabbing distant relatives. JOY. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. And I would like to throttle the sister. She keeps crying. It's doing my head in. I'd like to slap her. HARD. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
By this point I'm in such firm agreement with Sankofa. Allow this long nonsense. I'm having a registry wedding. KMFT.
I am back in Ghana for the first time in 6 years. This is my second ever visit and it feels so different coming back. It's funny that coming here aged 18 I was really impressed by my country. I think being born and raised in the UK, my family back home expected me to be wholly underwhelmed. People hyped up Ghana's negatives in an attempt to make the country seem better to me than they had advertised it to be. It seemed to me to be a ploy. A rather perverse way to make me fall in love with my heritage.
This strategy was misguided to say the least. I was more than ready to love Ghana. Contrary to popular belief (in Ghana), many of us abrokyirefuo enkola are more than ready to embrace the country of our parents. It helps give a sense of identity when living in a country (like the UK) where people forever ask 'where are you really from?'.
This return journey however sees me in a much different mood. I'm in Accra for a few days (which to me equals me being lost! Being from a pure Kumasiano family--don't judge me :P) am I'm taking a better look than the fleeting glance of a few years back.
All of a sudden I am not so impressed. It's like looking at a beautiful picture with cracks in it. As I've grown older I think I have become more and more invested in being a Ghanaian. I am emotionally invested in our sport (as you can tell), politics, language and culture. But the more invested I am, the more pain I seem to feel. It's like watching a child with 'so much potential' hit 30...and all that they have achieved is the title of 'the former child with so much potential'.
Arguments that diasporian Ghanaians should come 'back home' and set to rights their country have always erked me. Firstly, because in many ways for people like me it is no more 'coming home' that it is for any random African-American. It's just not really home. You see, you can never mistake home, love it or hate it there are particular emotions linked to the idea of home that separate diasporians from our 'home-grown' counterparts. Secondly, I think it is somewhat disrespectful to barge in and take over what you don't know. Who am I as a diasporian to Waltz in and decide my way is better? There is much to be said for local knowledge. It's priceless.
Nonetheless, I feel disappointed somehow in Ghana. There is a lot to be done and I feel like the country has stagnated. But there is also much to be hopeful for. There is a generation emerging who want to make a change; I want to be a part of that somehow. I need to find my place in helping to get it all done.
I am hoping to travel to Ghana in the next month with my family. This is a well and eagerly waited-for trip, and I can't wait to be outta here and sunning myself in the GH! So, I wanted to look at some pics of the ol' homeland and typed in a few areas I am interested in visiting and revisiting, you know, Accra, Kumasi, Koforidua (shout out to my homegirl Sankofa) and from Wikipedia came the link, www.mygardencity.com, billed as community platform for Ashanti region. And I say 'cool, interesting'. So I'm scanning, Opoku Nti for Asante Kotoko - and I say 'cool', Majid did not finger me-Nadia - cool, eliminating child labour, the success story - great! power cuts annoying Ghanaians - 'pff, understatement' and I laugh hahahhahahah- huh? wait wait wait REEEEWIIIND back to Majid did not finger me ...
and I say... WoW
OK, enough of that, back to work.
Yes, yes, yes! I am a football addict. FACT. There. I said it.
It seems that the earlier posted epic day is becoming a 'day' in bible terms, (i.e who knows how much time it actually measures?)
Ghana is still on top, 3rd african team to reach the final eight in history and the only this world cup!!!!!! Saturday was a good day but then...Sunday came, wow Engurland boi - I actually feel sorry for them because if Lampard's goal had been allowed I think it would have been a different game, the ref is a twat, sorry boys.
Anyway it was not easy but I have decided to pick myself up and start the vigil for Ghana - South America what? Uruguay who? We got the fans to do it and the soccer to play it so COME ON BLACK STARRRSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!
Also I LOVED the 'I am Ghana' thing, wicked!
I love World Cup years! I love the fact that there is football, tennis, F1, all packed into one very small time frame. Sorry for those of you who don't like football but the World Cup is the biggest sporting event in the world AND I LOVE IT. I have been glued to pretty much all the group phase games...particularly for my beloved countries GHANA and ENGLAND! My nation of birth and my heritage; I just have to rep both to the fullest!
For those of you not yet acquainted with the beautiful Nneka, get to know! This Nigerian-German songstress has been making moves for a while now and this is one of my favourite songs off her debut album "Concrete Jungle" (or "No Longer At Ease" as it was earlier known). I'm in a fighting mood today so I'm going to let Nneka provide the soundtrack to my week. Enjoy this live performance from Letterman.
"And now the world is asleep
How will you ever wake her up when she is deep in her dreams, wishing
And yet so many die
And still we think that it is all about us
It's all about you
You sold your soul to the evil and the lust
And the passion and the money and you
See the same ones die, people hunger for decades
Suffer under civilized armed robbers, modern slaveholders"
(I wonder who she's supporting in the World Cup?)
Since I wrote my last post my life has been a total whirlwind! But to re-cap, I handed in my notice at work at the end of last month. I was not happy. I needed a change, a push, something to bring me back to life. I stepped out on these feelings and decided to quit. Wrote a nice resignation letter to the boss and waited out my notice period. Funnily enough, the day I handed in my resignation was the same day I had quite a few application deadlines.
Anyhoo...about a week and a half later I get a call-back asking for an interview two days later! I immediately said yes, not even really realising what the job was for. But I did recognise that the end of that week would be my final day at work so I was still pushing for a new job (that ever-elusive career breakthrough role). I had two long back-to-back shifts in the two days before my interview and I started to get really worried that I would not have time to prepare. The day before the interview I worked til 10pm and got home near to 11:30. I was knackered and I had so much to do! I started panicking, called around for some interview advice to calm my nerves and then got stuck into my preparation in earnest. I hit the sack at 2.30am after a little 'God I've done all I can'; I just couldn't physically do anymore. My interview was for 10am and an hour-and-a-half away from where I live. This meant that, allowing for major calamities and time to settle my nerves, I needed to be out at 8am. Crap. And I was seriously lacking two nights worth of sleep. Double crap.
I woke up agitated and slightly nauseous. Oh and by the way my BB was in for repairs, so I didn't have the comfort of my phone to soothe me on my journey or to give me reminders to wake up, which was probably why I was so agitated when I woke up. At 7. After four-and-a-half hours sleep. Look I'm no Sankofa, I'm just not built for this. Anyhoo...I got there in good time. Prepared my answers and tried to will my palms to stop flowing rivers (it's so disgusting! I wish we still lived in an era when women wore gloves...). A nice lady takes me through to prepare for a presentation, 45 minutes prep for a 5 minute presentation. Crap, I didn't know about this. Nobody mentioned any presentation. I don't mind doing presentations but at least some forewarning! Crap, crap, crap, OH CRAP!
Ok, cool. Smile, shake hands, thank the nice lady. Crack a joke, make her smile. Now down to business. For the first 15 minutes I couldn't even understand the document I was reading. Calm down, start again. BREATHE. Ok, now I get it. No time to make use of the flip board. Just do it.
So I fumbled through the presentation. Smiled brightly where necessary. Answered all my questions. Didn't repeat examples, always used examples. Smiled some more. Looked all three panel members in the eye as I went along. Looked thoughtful. Clarified if I thought I sounded unclear. Didn't ramble (Yay for me! Because this is a particular habit of mine). Two small sips of water. Didn't fidget. Asked intelligent questions at the end. Was told that they would be in touch tomorrow. Smiled like a frigging simpleton. Shook hands firmly at the end (despite my sweaty hands *shudder*). Left the building. Pheeew!
Once I left I was nearly in tears. I just slumped at the bus stop for 20mins or so then made my way home. I felt horrible, exhausted and close to tears. I just kept thinking I hope my phone has arrived home by now, the only silver lining I could perceive. I got home to be greeted by my phone (yay!) and the anxious mother, oh joy. I muttered something unintelligible, skulked upstairs and crawled into bed. Fully clothed (minus the shoes). Had a good handful of texts and calls to see how it went. Ignored them nicely.
After sleep and food (up until this point I'd eaten nothing) I tried to gain some perspective. I could think of no one thing that should warrant my misery. I composed myself and prayed:
"Lord, if it is for me the let it be mine. If not then, I trust you."
I was a bit more upbeat after that. Misery does not become me. I shrugged it off and got on with life.
The following morning my brand new BB (Yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!) woke me up with a private number call, in my best I'm-wide-awake-no-of-course-you-didn't-just-wake-me-up voice—I answered. The nice guy on the other end said he had just called to let me know that I had been selected for the role I went up for. Oh. That's nice. Pause. So, ummmmm, Nsoromma, would you like the job? Pause. Oh. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh, yes! Needless to say, the rest of the convo was a blur. The rest of the day was a blur. Thank you God. The following day was my last day at the old job. Thank you, GOD! HELLO, ARE YOU THERE GOD? IT'S ME NSOROMMA, THANK YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU! Called the fam, friends, Pastor and well wishers. This is my testimony. I said it was my moment, I believed it and it was.
THANK YOU GOD,
(first published on Baring Testament)
Hey there everybody, I know it has been a long time since I have written anything BUT HEY I'm here now eh?
I know this song's been out for a while now in Ghana but I still love it. This debut song by yet another Tema hiplife artist, Nana Boroo is the perfect anthem for days like these when your long-awaited summer holiday has finally begun. There're a million and one languages going on in this song and the chorus is loosely translated as "here's where the fun is; everywhere else is dead". The World Cup is finally here people. GO BLACKSTARS! Yes Go England! Hope you enjoy!
I just came across this video of my beloved Idris Elba and I had to share it with you guys.
I think my soul just died a little. Like many other females (and males) I just love me some "Big 'Dris". Here's a fine-ass half-Ghanaian, half-Sierra Leonian, East London Boy making some moves in Hollywood. He's flippin' STRINGER BELL from The Wire (if you don't know, get to know)! I know music's always been Idris's first love but mate you're nearing 40 years of age and you're wearing a doo-rag under a backwards-turned baseball cap, rapping in pseudo-Carribean patois in 2010?! I'm so distracted that I can't even judge the song objectively. Nsoromma pretty much summed this up when I sent her the vid on facebook:
"Rasclart tune? Gwan? Hol' On? More Fire? Dude ur Ghanaian/Sierra Leonian...I dont understand the influence. I'm so embarrassed!"I just can't ....
I'm feeling good in London Town at the moment, the sun playing games and there is the occasional torrential downpour but all is good. So I decided to give you this throwback I have been jamming to today. Enjoy and have a good day now!
I'm feeling good in London Town at the moment, the sun playing games and there is the occasional torrential downpour but all is good. So I decided to give you this throwback I have been jamming to today. Enjoy and have a good day now!
The last year or so has been one big whirlwind of job hunting, interviews, rejection letters and more job hunting. And I was beginning to feel quite despondent and deflated about the whole situation. I have worked in retail since the age of 16 and I really wanted to leave that world behind in search of something bigger - especially with a university degree under my belt. But I was fast learning that in today's day and age a BA degree does not mean jack. I mean who cares if you travelled all the way to another country for a year to become fluent in a foreign language anyway?
The big storms of disappointment settled a couple of weeks ago, when I got accepted for internship I applied for (which was unpaid, other than the £10 a day for travel expenses the company was kind enough to bless me with!). Anyway, a week into the internship, I received an e-mail from The Guardian saying that they liked the article I had sent to them and wanted to take me on as an intern for two weeks. "Wow", I was thinking. "Two acceptances within a week and a half? Not bad at all!" After a lot of pondering and mentally going around in circles though, I decided to send them an e-mail to decline the offer. Considering, I have always wanted to go into journalism, and had recently taken a strong interest in publishing, it is mad that I would turn down a journalism internship, in favour for the PR one I already had. But If I had taken it, the two would have clashed. So being a woman who always like to follow through with what she has already started, I decided to stick with what I already had and to keep on stepping.
So, week two of my three week internship, and I have an interview with Penguin Books, for another internship which would have lasted two months. (Can I please add that I didn't think there was a chance in hell I was going to get shortlisted for an interview with Penguin seeing as the CV and covering letter I sent to them was a slap-dash, half hearted effort that I submitted hours before the deadline.) I thought the interview went well, but after a year of chasing a full time graduate job, I have learnt to not get my hopes up too high.
Anyway, after the interview with Penguin, I went straight back to the firm I was interning for to finish the day as usual, and was even allowed to leave half an hour early. The next day at work however, I notice the MD looking at me in a strange way the whole day. "Why is she staring at me? Is my top too low? Do I smell funny? Do I have toilet roll stuck to my shoes?" Just as I thought I couldn't take it anymore, she called me into the office. "Oh no. This is it. She thinks I'm terrible, and she is cutting the internship short". So I sheepishly follow her into the meeting room trying to figure out what I'm supposed to do for the rest of the week.
Once in the meeting room, we both take a seat and she begins. "We have enjoyed having you here, and the others really like you. Not only that, we think you have been making a positive contribution to the team, and we would like to offer you a job here on a permanent basis." Huh? Did I miss that? Did she just say she is offering me a job? Seriously, I had been waiting for a year to hear those words, and finally my time had come and all I could do was stare back at her with a stupid expression on my face.
"Err...would a full time job here be of any interest to you?" Oh my goodness, the long hunt for full time (meaningful) employment has come to an end! (For now anyway, until I decide to move on)
"Yes! yes! Thank you so much. I am so grateful. I would love to work here!". Looking back now, I think she was a bit taken aback by my explosion of joy. But seriously, I cannot describe how good I felt at that moment. My internship had not even ended and I had a job already. Yippee!!
Fast forward to this week, yesterday to be precise. I missed a call from a number I was not familiar with. So, I called back and was directed to the answering machine of none other than...Andrew Smith! The guy from Penguin! I left a quick message while I attempted to breathe in and then out again calmly. But an hour or so later, I realised I had missed another call from him. Gaddamit! Although I have managed to secure a job, I just had to know what he had to say. So I called back right away and this time he answered. Yes!
"Hello. Andrew Smith's office"
"Hi Andrew, this is Afrocentric. I am just returning your call. How are you?"
"Hi, Afrocentric. You were just playing hard to get, weren't you?"
"Not at all. I am sorry I missed your calls"
"It's OK, never mind. So, Afrocentric. Will you be free between the 28th June and the 20th August? Cos I'm pleased to say you have been successful with your application."
Let me cut in here. At that moment, you could have knocked me with the proverbial feather duster. I had been selected by Penguin??!! Anybody else would be more than ecstatic to work with one of the biggest publishers ever. Hell, a couple of weeks earlier I would have! Except now, I had a big dilemma. Publishing is were the party's at as far as I am concerned but this was just a two month internship with no promise of a full time permanent position afterwards. And I already have a job with a PR company. GRRR!!! So, what did I do next? I kindly asked Andrew Smith if I could call him back later with an answer (needless to say, he wasn't too pleased) and called the one person I always bother with my problems when I am totally lost. Mama Afrocentric.
I explained the situation to her, while she listened calmly. When I was done, she made me understand that after a year, I had finally bagged a job by the skin of my teeth, and I couldn't afford to be thinking about job satisfaction just yet. Especially since the internship did not guarantee a job afterwards, and the job I have now is damn near close to what I want to do anyway. She also explained that maybe after a year or so of experience at where I'm working now, I can probably apply for a proper job with Penguin.
So I called back Mr. Smith and kindly declined the offer and thanked him for the opportunity. I had a big lump in my throat as I knew I was turning down something major. I know you are probably thinking "Afrocentric, you are full of crap! Why are you getting emotional over a two month internship when you already have a job you enjoy?". But what you don't know is that I applied for this same internship last year and didn't even make it through the first round! So being selected this time round is something major to me.
Oh well. Now some other kid is probably thanking their lucky stars and getting ready for work with Penguin in a couple of weeks time. I honestly can tell you that a year ago I seriously did not believe I would find myself in this predicamnet. I am grateful for the job I have, and I love it so much, but having to turn down Penguin was seriously close to a heart breaking loss. Anyway, as I settle into my new job I can't help but hope I am faced with the same "dilemma" on the other hunt. *Wink wink.*
Love, love, LOVE this song. It's been playing in my head all night. This WILL be playing at my wedding! 90's music was just soooo good. So I just had to share, enjoy!
Monday being the first day of my internship at a PR company, you would think I'd tried my damnest to make a good impression and do as I was told right?
Well I did EVERYTHING that was asked of me... sort of...until i discovered youngfatandfabulous.com. This "accident" happened when the accounts manager asked me to conduct research on different blogs. I hardly fall in love, but me and this website is a match made fashion in heaven!
The website celebrates the fashion-conscious, fabulous, fat girl trying to make her way in a slim woman's world. And damn some of the chicks featured on this website are seriously styling! Don't believe me? Why don't you check it yourself? I must admit though, there are some misses.What I like about the blog however, is that Gabi, who regularly posts on the website, celebrates the curvy girl without putting down her slimmer counterpart. I am mostly happy because I have never seen so may fabulous looking women who look like me.
Every so often, the site features a "YFF girl of the moment", which basically shows off other stylish fat girls from around the world. I like this feature because it gives you a multi faceted view of fashion. Also, it encourages you to work with what you already have in your wardrobe, rather than run up that credit card bill!
I must say that this website has inspired me to get creative. Nothing dulls your artistic flame more than having to work in a totally average high street store that surrounds you with size 6-16 clothes, when you're pushing a size 18.
Anyway, at the risk of giving up my anonymity, I have decided to share with you my top wardrobe favourites as a token of my newly found creativity. Most of these pieces are things I have owned for years. Some are quite new. So here goes!
These are a few of my favourite bangles. I truly believe that the right bangle always completes the look.I especially love the fifth one down with the gold flowers. It's so pretty and surprisingly it matches quite a lot of outfits. Plus, it was a bargain!
2. Anyone who hasn't been in hiding would know that the boyfriend blazer has been all the rage for the last couple of years. Anyone who know me would know I have worn the hell out of mine. I love it so much because it can be worn casually as well as with a smart outfit.
I LOVE RED! It is such a vibrant colour, and it always makes me feel perky. I feel brightly coloured accessories are especially handy for girls who would like to add a splash of colour to their wardrobe but are not brave enough to don a bright red dress.
I love my african prints! (ntuma if you are an akan speaker, mama if you are a ga speaker.) They are funky and fun and nothing shouts out "originality" better. What I love about this dress is that it can be worn in the winter with a cardi or a jacket and a pair of boots, or in the summer, on its own. (And for those of us whose bras have boulder holder straps, it can be worn with a t-shirt or a vest top underneath)Either way, this dress is fab!
I know technically speaking, this is not an item of clothing. But my red lipstick is one of my latest contribution to fashion. I remember when Sankofa first showed me hers, I was thinking "mmm...it's nice. But a bit loud". After a bit of persuasion from one of my aunts though, I soon found myself in a shop in North London, buying my own, and I haven't looked back since. I really believe that no matter your skin tone, there's a shade of red out there for you. It doesn't even have to be an expensive brand.Just make sure you moisturise your lips first as lipstick can dry them out a bit.
(And while, we're on the subject of make up, if you love applying colour to your lips, try Barry M's range of lip gloss wands. It's some pretty serious stuff!)
Do you know what I love most about these rosettes from J'accentue? Well, they are so versatile. You can pin one (or two!) onto an outfit to make it a little more quirky, attach one to your bag, or even pin it in your hair! What's more, they are hand made, and created to your taste. So you'll be the only one wearing your style of choice!
Moving on, these peep-toe booties served me well over winter. At £10, they really are a bargain. I like them because I will be able to wear them well into summer too. As pretty as they are, they leave my feet screaming after a few hours though. Oh well, that's what the flats in bag are for!
Why do I like this tulip skirt? Mmm...I honestly don't know, but I can tell you that I always feel sexy in it. Plus it's a whole load of red, which I love!
I am not usually a fan of florals, but I heart this cardi because I can always throw it over a plain black top or a dress, and it always looks good. Also, there are not many like it on the high street. But just in case you are looking for it, you can buy this cardigan or one like it at Oasis.
I love accessorising, and just like bangles, I feel rings compliments an outfit nicely. I remember, I bought my first ring with Sankofa in Topshop In Oxford Circus. (Do you remember girl?) But this is one of my favourites. It's a real attention seeker and I love it!
Well, we have come to the end girlies. I hope you have enjoyed reading. Remember, looking good isn't always about chasing everything that comes into the shops. Work with what you've got! Also, I need you to know you can be fashionable, no matter your shape or size.
Never in my life in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland have I heard of such scenes! Voting fever has gripped a nation and a generation which has been mostly apathetic about politics has erupted into arguments about who to vote for. My BlackBerry messenger and my Facebook page have become site's of political slander and all sorts. It's great. The exit polls suggest that for all his 'great work', Nick Clegg's Lib Dem's have actually lost ground. WOW. I didn't see that coming. My girl, Fly-Ass Single Mama, has been calling trying to get some translations of election babble. Things like swing, marginal seats, exit polls, etc....AMAZING.