FASHION WEEK...mine
I was asked not too long ago who I would say is my style icon. It was an easy enough question to answer, much easier than I expected. The woman who mirrors my inner style maven is none other than Tracee Ellis Ross, bug-eyed & bootylicious daughter of Dirty Diana. I think I’m going to dedicate this week to her. Yeah…It’s TRACEE ELLIS ROSS WEEK guys & dolls. Pop something! Twist something (you know…if that’s what you do)!! Lets celebrate!!!
Anywho…like you, I hadn’t paid her much attention before the show Girlfriends™ hit prime time. As a lawyer she took fashion risks that were truly unexpected in such an uptight atmosphere and profession. She wasn’t afraid to stand out, something I’d assume is actually necessary as a black woman part of any law firm, though perhaps not through switching up the A-line skirt game.
Tracee reminded me of Me, never quite conforming to the standard uniforms for my job. I don’t mean the khaki pants & blue button down type uniforms or making rogue decisions like painting graffiti on my apron. No disrespect to those who’ve worked those jobs, but I’ve not actually had to don those particular uniforms. I’m speaking of the kind of unspoken (or even spoken) expectation that we will ALL come to work as starched carbon copies of one another, wearing our reminders of our role as drones. No thanks, I’m good.
Past Girlfriends™, I haven’t seen a spread of this woman where she wasn’t flawless. It’s not that I would rock all her combinations but I’d like to think that if I had the duckets to spread over the individual pieces that move me, I’d be a fashion force to be reckoned with, my biggest & most common accessory being the attitude that I wore it, therefore it’s RIGHT. On top of all the unapologetic “love me or leave me alone” that she & I have in common, the length of our legs is NOT the same but what rests a top those legs IS. She feels my pain, finding bottoms that adequately fit , perfectly drape, & accentuate the rotunda we’re both truckin’.
What she’s wearing in the above flick is how I wish I felt right now: spry, carefree, flirty & playful, & girlish. I’ll even forgive how her jacket is giving me horrendous flashbacks of a woman I know whose style (word used looser than “bowels after collard greens”) choices & hair struggles point in the direction of trailer trash playing at being employed in the big city. This jacket isn’t as bad as all that, but the structure of it reminds me of this person. I apologize for taking you on that ride. Inteeweighs…the red bottoms definitely bring this look all together, & I typically don’t like ankle booties with skirts or dresses.
I won’t bother to tell you what I’mnot wearing right now, but it certainly belies what I’m capable of. You may wanna look that word up before you jump out there assuming you know what it means. & like I said…if anyone ever gave me the chance to stack make a couple of liquid dimes I’d be all over collecting more side-eyes of the green contact variety. Never fear though…I’m not doing any better than you right now. But if ever…
Watch me move…in Tracee’s shadow.
Anywho…like you, I hadn’t paid her much attention before the show Girlfriends™ hit prime time. As a lawyer she took fashion risks that were truly unexpected in such an uptight atmosphere and profession. She wasn’t afraid to stand out, something I’d assume is actually necessary as a black woman part of any law firm, though perhaps not through switching up the A-line skirt game.
Tracee reminded me of Me, never quite conforming to the standard uniforms for my job. I don’t mean the khaki pants & blue button down type uniforms or making rogue decisions like painting graffiti on my apron. No disrespect to those who’ve worked those jobs, but I’ve not actually had to don those particular uniforms. I’m speaking of the kind of unspoken (or even spoken) expectation that we will ALL come to work as starched carbon copies of one another, wearing our reminders of our role as drones. No thanks, I’m good.
Past Girlfriends™, I haven’t seen a spread of this woman where she wasn’t flawless. It’s not that I would rock all her combinations but I’d like to think that if I had the duckets to spread over the individual pieces that move me, I’d be a fashion force to be reckoned with, my biggest & most common accessory being the attitude that I wore it, therefore it’s RIGHT. On top of all the unapologetic “love me or leave me alone” that she & I have in common, the length of our legs is NOT the same but what rests a top those legs IS. She feels my pain, finding bottoms that adequately fit , perfectly drape, & accentuate the rotunda we’re both truckin’.
What she’s wearing in the above flick is how I wish I felt right now: spry, carefree, flirty & playful, & girlish. I’ll even forgive how her jacket is giving me horrendous flashbacks of a woman I know whose style (word used looser than “bowels after collard greens”) choices & hair struggles point in the direction of trailer trash playing at being employed in the big city. This jacket isn’t as bad as all that, but the structure of it reminds me of this person. I apologize for taking you on that ride. Inteeweighs…the red bottoms definitely bring this look all together, & I typically don’t like ankle booties with skirts or dresses.
I won’t bother to tell you what I’m
Watch me move…in Tracee’s shadow.
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