Monday, 23 December 2013

Black People Need to do Better

Guys, I think my blog is going to take a whole new direction because there are far too many things on my mind beyond fashion. Also more importantly, I still don't have a camera man willing to pap me (but over the Christmas period, I'll be back at home, so I may force my mum to play the part).

Ok - so there are a few things that I need to get off my heart about my people and I honestly don't even give a cigar-smoking monkey how I sound: BLACK PEOPLE NEED TO DO BETTER. Let me explain:

Last week, I was invited to an event that involved a whole heap of ratchet things such as twerking etc and as you all know, I am shamelessly into all sorts of silly shit and I have a subtle obsession with bums, due to my state of derriere deprivation. With all this in mind, I'd like to point out that I'm not even judge-y, but when the 'pillow fighting' round came up...I was honestly like...guys, seriously? The girls were up on the stage sexily slapping each other with pillows and I just thought to myself:

1. You guys have clearly never seen struggles, because if I got up on the stage, I would nicely deck the opposition, collect my prize money and go the heck home.

2. Pillow fighting as a whole event? get the hell out of my face please.

Ok, after all the preliminary crap, the twerking began. I love booty shaking. I watched it with glee and tried to pick up tips...UNTIL the following things happened:

1. Someone threw their oyster card on the stage...wait...WHAT? Why in the sam hill would you ever throw your means of transportation on the bloody stage - what does that even mean? and how the HECK are you getting home?

2. The semi-final round involved a balloon being placed on a random man's penis and the girls had to use their bums/vaginas to burst the balloon. At this point, the objectification was just too much for me and I looked around at this 8 mile den and thought - some people paid pounds sterling for this and were currently there with rock hard penii watching someone's child split a balloon in a thinly veiled reproduction of coitus. Get the hell out of my face please and thanks.

The next reason I think black people need to do better is this. I was watching The Real Housewives of Atlanta, and Porsha Williams/Stewart or whatever the heck her name is now, made a comment that made me want to consult a voodoo priestess just so I could raise Harriet Tubman from the grave so she could personally explain some things to poor, stupid Porsha. I honestly just wanted Jesus to just sound the trumpets and take me to my final resting place because I just didn't see the point for continuation if this is the televisual representation of black people. Anyway, this girl really said, "who drove the train from the Underground Railroad" - erm say what now? I'm not from your bloody country and my grandfather wasn't a civil rights activist but I know for sure that the Underground Railroad was NOT. A. BLOODY. TRAIN.

Guys, if black folk won't try, then what is the point of all the people that died so we wouldn't be called savages? I just want us all to do better otherwise we will never progress as a people.

P.s. I had to control myself from swearing throughout this entire post and I am quickly approaching a place where I just want to be me. I swear like a sailor and I enjoy it. I'll try for my parents, career and Nigeria but if you fools keep pushing me, I will type more like I talk and you'll find my post infused with all sorts of profanity.

Good day.

Thursday, 28 November 2013

Boho Bum

Until I get a camera type thing, this is what y'all are gon' get by way of outfit posts.

The super American phraseology is an ode to all my Yankee mates on this here Thanksgiving day.

Short and sweet. Deuces.
Tuesday, 12 November 2013

The Birthday Dress Quest

Ok, so whilst I get back into the swing of taking pictures, I am on a quest for a birthday dress (December 8th, all gifts welcome), nay, I am on a quest for THE dress. Everyone that knows me, knows that the majority of my clothes fulfil one of two criterion; is it black? Is it somehow sheer? THE dress falls into both of these categories and yet for the past 2 years, the gown gods have been conspiring against me and my dress plans keep being thwarted.

It started with the Zara dress:

I fell in love with this sucker, parted with my cash and boobs said no. It was a very trying time for me so let's move on. I thought I could overcome when I met this beauty last year:

I bought her and wore her, only to have the bottom half (which was made out of velvet) completely fall apart whilst I was at the restaurant - obviously my life is just tragic like that so I cried internally then returned it to asos. Now, the time has come again and I keep seeing celebs wearing variations of my dress.

Short of having a tailor make it for me, I am quite frankly at a loss, so I need your help. Should you see any dress akin to the above or below, take a picture and send it to me INSTANTLY. I have less than a month to buy it - wherever it may be. A million eyes are better than one, so be my eyes people. Cheers and thanks.
I love me some Tasha Mack (Wendy Raquel Robinson) but WHY is the heifer wearing my dress?


Sunday, 3 November 2013

Back in this biznayeeee

Hey guys. I know it's been a while and I disappeared etc, but it would appear that I'm back and I'll be shaking things up a little. Those of you that follow me on Instagram or Twitter know that I've been hard at work and often ask me what I do for a living - mostly because I post a multitude of adult toys and appear to work in the sex industry. Well, take your minds out of the gutter you little wenches because that is not the case; I am merely a copywriter and often the subject of my copy is sex toys. I have a talent for it apparently.

Well, that's enough chatter for now. Look out for more blogs from yours truly and subtle changes to my layout. Speaking of which - do you love my new 'Blazerwhore' header? Methinks you do. Just in case y'all done forgot what I look like - here I am - still wearing red lipstick, still involuntarily pouting. Kindly ignore the wine and bottle of Febreze in the background. Cheers.