Just then I thought

What about that?
What about that?
What about that?

and that's how ya
let the beat build, bitch.

Bleezy had a party, y'all!

Blake and her friend Jefferson Hack (Kate Moss's babydaddy) hosted the toast of London's fashion set for a party at Prada's Double Club celebrating Hack's Another Magazine and its latest covergirl, Tilda Swinton.

Kate Moss & Tilda Swinton.

Jefferson Hack & Daphne Guinness.

Roisin Murphy's so damn fashion-forward she brought two aliens as accessories!

Even the messiah came through!

100% SFW.

Courtney Love, photographed by Hedi Slimane.
Los Angeles, December 2008.

Oh, Hedi. Don't play with us like that.

Lindsay Lohan, photographed by Hedi Slimane.
Los Angeles, February 2009.

It is with honor that I present to you, babygirls:

Michelle Obama's Official White House Portrait.

Your First Lady.

Remember the Iraq War?

Well, supposedly it's like ending within the next decade or something.

Be afraid.

Be very afraid.

Oh, just kidding, who doesn't love Newt?

i gave up masturbating for lent.

and agreed to fast daily till sundown.

2 days in the game and i've discovered 2 things:

1. i eat to live and, i don't miss much miss eating before sundown.
2. i love myself more than i ever realized, and i. can't wait. to get. back together. with. myself.


after easter service, when i get myself alone, i'm playing this:

i'll need some privacy.

shlda waited 'til 5:01

:outgoing call to kim:

boogie: so how's lent going?
kim: you know, the fasting's not even that bad. it's the not masturbating that's really killing me...

dead.

and all i got was a video on facebook.

Beyonce rocks out in Ebony:
Asked to describe herself as a wife: “I don’t know how to talk about it because I don’t like to talk about it. But I have a great example of a great wife, and that’s my mother. And I have great friends around me that have been married, so I’m lucky to have really good examples. And a great husband.”

She says they are just like any other couple. She is learning to cook and he’s getting over his single-guy habits.

One thing she does to get on his nerve: “I’m a little messy. Oh, yeah. Whenever I’m out in public, I have to be put together. When I get home, I rebel against it and I don’t want to take care of anything. I drop it. I’m relaxed. I don’t have any shoes on. No makeup. My purse is in the kitchen. I think that is most difficult thing for him. He’s very, very organized. I’m extremely organized when I’m working, and I work so much that when I get home I don’t want to think about anything.”

As what Jay-Z does that get on her nerves: She laughs, “I won’t say.”

quotable

Sent at 11:14 AM on Friday
me: somehow i dont think he's talkin abt "in bed" tho

fam: yeah

i know

it's hard to define "in life" though

because sometimes

in the moment it seems like the best i ever had

but cuz of the way it ended

im like

damn

i hope that's not the best i ever had

preach.

scene in the New York Post ...

I’m trying to understand what possible motivation you may have had for publishing that vile cartoon depicting the shooting of the chimpanzee that went crazy. I guess you thought it would be funny to suggest that whomever was responsible for writing the Economic Recovery legislation must have the intelligence and judgment of a deranged, violent chimpanzee, and should be shot to protect the larger community. Really? Did it occur to you that this suggestion would imply a connection between President Barack Obama and the deranged chimpanzee? Did it occur to you that our President has been receiving death threats since early in his candidacy? Did it occur to you that blacks have historically been compared to various apes as a way of racist insult and mockery? Did you intend to invoke these painful themes when you printed the cartoon?


If that’s not what you intended, then it was stupid and willfully ignorant of you not to connect these easily connectable dots. If it is what you intended, then you obviously wanted to be grossly provocative, racist and offensive to the sensibilities of most reasonable Americans. Either way, you should not have printed this cartoon, and the fact that you did is truly reprehensible. I can’t imagine what possible justification you have for this. I’ve read your lame statement in response to the outrage you provoked. Shame on you for dodging the real issue and then using the letter as an opportunity to attack Rev. Sharpton. This is not about Rev. Sharpton. It’s about the cartoon being blatantly racist and offensive.


I believe in freedom of speech, and you have every right to print what you want. But freedom of speech still comes with responsibilities and consequences. You are responsible for printing this cartoon, and I hope you experience some real consequences for it. I’m personally boycotting your paper and won’t do any interviews with any of your reporters, and I encourage all of my colleagues in the entertainment business to do so as well. I implore your advertisers to seriously reconsider their business relationships with you as well.


You should print an apology in your paper acknowledging that this cartoon was ignorant, offensive and racist and should not have been printed.


I’m well aware of our country’s history of racism and violence, but I truly believe we are better than this filth. As we attempt to rise above our difficult past and look toward a better future, we don’t need the New York Post to resurrect the images of Jim Crow to deride the new administration and put black folks in our place. Please feel free to criticize and honestly evaluate our new President, but do so without the incendiary images and rhetoric.


Sincerely,


John Legend

watched Notorious last night. (Yes. I'm later than a bitch.)

that. movie. was. Trash.

The best thing about it was this:

or, the fake ass lil Kim's fake. ass. tittays.

ft. lauderdale's finest.

Sent at 10:52 AM on Thursday

me: which one would you hit

boogie: the grey goose

me: hahahhaha

"i want you to be the dark-skinned change in my family." -FAM

prosa intima.

"mi amada....
tu y yo, vamos a escribir un libro
para decir en el todo lo que ha pasado
en este largo tiempo.

Hablare de tu amor inmaculado, diafano,
callado....de tu gran amor,
por mi...el mas amado...."

Asi me dijiste aquella tarde
a la orilla del rio.

Solo catorce paginas de amor- te dije -
que hablen de una larga ausencia sin olvido,
del anhelado retorno sin regreso
y del mas dulce ensueno, jamas vivido.

Y cuando las escribas...tu me las leeras
aqui mismo a la orilla del rio,
y yo, mirandote a la cara con mirada callada,
te dare un beso...un beso, por cada palabra.

Cuando el crepusculo se quede dormido
en los brazos tibios de la noche fresca...
Cuando un concierto de musica sonada
venga envuelto en las aguas del rio...
Cuando aquel perfume que ya casi
tenemos olvidado, nos lo traiga el viento...
musitare a tu oido con amor, con hastio,
te querre siempre...!siempre!
Sin que yo pueda ser tuya.
Sin que tu...puedas ser mio.

tilisa caridad brens

blame it on the excessive amt of cameos

evidently, it's my week

happy ashy wednesday!

tomorrow is 'do yo taxes, amaris' thursday

not fiction

you ain't a hater, can't tell
either wish me well, go to hell, or go to yale
study human behavior so that you kno who the hell
you dealin' with
ain't nutty but the study gon' unveil
my relative in jail, ha!, stay engaged
to whatever make money, now he married to that cage
divorce is not an option and prenuptial is void
eat up whatever rapper, but i'm tangled in my cord

bored, kind of like a knight with the sword
without dragon to battle so im runnin' from a shadow
an impossible feat and i repeat
an impossible feat and i repeat
an impossible feat and i repeat

the damsel's in distress but they a mess
they only like my armor, and that i'm a performer
they read one magazine and wanna think they gettin' warmer
they only gettin' colder, hell maybe i shld throw
a double diamond party in the north pole
invite all the writers and journalists
even biters will tournament, to see who can be me better than me
it's a permanent smile on my face, because you said you don't like my style
but that's ok, but just make sure you dont touch that dial
and we'll be cool
touch it and yousa fool

look, i'll get ya hooked, y'all crooks might even move
to atlanta, georgia, get a wife and daughter
start a new life, and all that wrong you do you make it right
but hell, all a dream, i wear the crown i'm king
respect is mandatory, end of the story go fly a kite
category ain't got none
you know i'm right.

remember this, bleez?

radio raheem 2.0

+ 20 yrs =

stylin' on you.

michelle!

nothing further.

AMITAAAAAAAAAAHB!

l: i wanna name my daughter "kati"

RE: lauren: i need you to blog

now, i hate to steal mr. martha's morehouse mcvineyard's shine but um...

"As the only Harlem native, Jason aka 'Young Harlem' shows people exactly where he's from with the 'Harlem' tribute tattoo decorating his left arm. He rolls hard with the Dipset hip-hop clique and knows his neighborhood streets well. But the 27-year-old Latino playboy is trying hard to turn his life around. With an 8-year-old daughter, Jason is hoping to shine as a good father figure and one day start a nonprofit for children whose parents are incarcerated."

i can't even focus.

i won't stop until i'm numb, tellin' myself the night is young

i woke up yesterday at 6:45 am, picked up my blackberry and immediately bbm'd steph and le "uuuugh why did we do that?" they didn't have many answers, but i was satisfied. the allure of plumm hadn't yet worn off, as i had only slipped into my bed 3 hrs earlier. i walked past my mirror thinkin' hair is fucked. make-up still on my face. smellin' like weed. not much good goin' on here. at least my stomach's flat, tho... the pizzas we scarfed down in between club-hopping in the wee hrs of that morning seemed to have no bearing on my morning after figure.

bleez thinks "sunday night going out is great. it's knowing that you're totally screwing yourself that makes it more fun. i think. and ppl who go out sunday are sometimes sexy. cause they don't have to be at work early mon am. they got special jobs, lol."

le thinks "if we keep doin' it, it'll get easier."

i think there's nothing better than spending 3 hrs in church, watching a slew of lifetime movies with grandma, tucking nyla in at night, and then heading to 14th street hours later where you're gulping down complimentary cosmos, standing on a couch screaming "see some niggas getting money in a town i liiiiike it," and sittin' next to a dude who's intently rolling a blunt, yet promptly sets the shit down on the seat next to him bc he gotta get up and do the stanky leg.

the only picture on my camera from that night is displayed here:

and i think it's just perfect.

i wasn't salty she was wit them boys in the hood
cause that was good for her
she was becoming well-rounded
i thought it was dope how she was on some freestyle shit
just havin fun
not worried about anyone
and you could tell, by how her titties hung.

here's to you, mrs. robinson

when i get into work in the morning, i have abt 3-4 emails waiting for me. usually, none of them is work-related. some of them kill me. some of them give me life. see the latter copied here.
_____________________

will: Make time for me
me: So call me tomorrow

will: let me take you to dinner tonight. That was a question, phrased as an indicative sentence.
me: I like that. what's the plan?

i met the kid last year and there was always a little something different to our interactions vs w/ the others, but he got scooped real early in the game and that was that. then he was in the fashion show and a week before he had to drop out. the cutest thing, he walks up to me and was like "sus', i'm not a quitter, and i really wanna be in the show, but i'm a scholar and that weekend i'll be away on a retreat. blah blah blah". he had me at "i'm a scholar" lol.

so i'm at the campus bar on Friday night, he walks in, sees me, and expertly interrupted whatever nonsense convo aaron and i were having and proceeded to look at me so admiringly. i wish u couldve seen it, b/c he was not playing games. exchange numbers, the next night, awa and i run into the gas station and we turn around and there he goes again. with that look. left the gas station and later i received text #1.
Sunday brunch w/ A & co. and we're at ihop recounting the shambles of the previous night, for old time's sake, and i receive text #2. love. he picked me up at 7. gets out, opens the door. i swoon. chat in the car about ambitions, life at duke, family. during dinner he tells me that he likes the way i smell. compliments compliments. we're a cheesecake factory. it was cool. and he's a sweet southern boy who hasn't been outside of NC, SC, GA. seriously. but part of his scholarship is studying abroad so he'll be in Greece and Ethiopia this summer, so Toto will be leaving Kansas, soon enough. he's also prob 5'8 or 5'9 and i wore boots that made me tower over him. on purpose. i also didn't order a drink, i didn't want him to get jealous. and the night ended with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. something tells me he's a gentleman.
interesting fact: until last night, i'd never been on a date.

we like it. we like it a lot.

today's my holiday

happy fat tuesday, y'all!

boogs and i will bring it in at kati roll. meet us there at 6.

lauren: i need you to blog

so, late night, desperate not to read for evidence, i bbm lauren.
lauren! (D)
it's [coon #6] i want to argue! (D)
damn. she's good.

i turn to bet. the last time i watched bet, i found this. i see a face flash. i double take. i wait for show title. i google. i read:

HARLEM HEIGHTS
'Harlem Heights,' which premieres March 2 on BET, revolves around young, black, urban professionals setting out to make their way in the world. Created by MTV industry insiders Randolph Sturrup and Kurt Williamson, the show features a diverse cast of eight young adults from various backgrounds with Harlem as its backdrop. BlackVoices.com has an exclusive sneak peek at the Facebook-friendly cast members. Take a look...

waaaaait....

ummmmm....

ABOUT. THAT. WIG....

i blame your mama.

i'd rather be in paris

a week ago, the homie stef and i smoked some izzy that had us thinkin we was drivin down champs-elysees. here we were, post visit to mars, bumpin gaga so heavy, having some type of orgasmic experience. on spring st.

as if it were....

we dream hard.

and i snagged this whole post from the beautiful nightmare herself.

"i'm not a saint, but i'm not a sinner.
everything's cool,
as long as i'm getting thinner."
-lily allen, the fear

Winners, nonetheless

Though not taking home any statues tonight, Viola Davis and Taraji Penda Henson, both nominees for Best Supporting Actress, were style winners at the Academy Awards.

repeat 3x

q: but are we demeaning ourselves by letting ppl shove us around just to have a spot on the subway?

a: the root of it--this is so corny--you know in juno, when her dad says you know you've found the right person when they think the sun shines out of your ass? everybody who lives in new york thinks the sun shines out of new york's ass, and we're just so happy to be here that we're willing to do all of that. people who don't live here don't get it. and they never will. [laughs]
-cecily von ziegesar, gossip girl author, to billie cohen, TONY

yes, babygirl. yes.

aight dont clap when i do mine

i want y'all to be able to hear what i'm SAYIN'.

when they say "damn, baby, how did you get that fly?"
i tell 'em
flight school

MLBC

"don't put your problems on the throne. keep Jesus there."

I Still Love Lily (& Lilo!)

Lily Allen is still making witty pop music with an edge that is just right as the soundtrack for the lives of fun, young famous gals like herself and party-pal Lindsay Lohan - seen leaving the Chateau Marmont one night last week. One of my fave new tracks of Lily's below:



Side note: Lilo's purple Muse (earlier that day) is oh-so necessary -- Bleezy, can ya hear me?

we ain't slept in weeks

stressful thgts have been replaced
with henny and coke and yager, mane
...hope my mom ain't mad at me

rollin' rollin' rollin'

i had nothing scandalous to say

on sparring

3 incoming calls,
2 outgoing ones,
55 mins,
19 text msgs,
"c'mon now, don't do that" x6,
and 8 hrs
later

get your shorts out boys and girls
the summer's come back overnight.

BUSY, BUSY BEE(G)S

These gorgeous babygirls barely stopped walking for the past week.
Who's your fave??

sessilee lopez, oscar de la renta

raquel zimmerman, michael kors

lakshmi menon, badgley mischka

chanel iman, phi

jessica stam, marc jacobs

arlenis sosa, isaac mizrahi

sasha pivarova, zac posen

lily donaldson, ralph lauren

jourdan dunn, alexander wang

CONGRATS, BABYGIRLS!
ONTO LONDON, MILAN & PARIS!

GIMME MORE ALEK!

alek wek murdered zac's catwalk in (one of?) the only show she walked for ny-f/w09

Karl, dear, those CHANEL sneaks...

...BELONG TO ANDRE.

(via phyll, as per us')

"I don't wanna be a bitch,
but you guys are really boring."

McDONALD's is so CHIC these days!

MCDONALD'S SPONSORS MERCEDES-BENZ FASHION WEEK.

“I’m a mom. If I see my daughter a little thin, I say, ‘Eat more McDonald’s.'" - Dina Lohan


McDONALD's SALES GROW 7.1% IN JANUARY.


“I’m really excited about the Happy Meal,” the model Sean O’Pry said dryly backstage at the Duckie Brown show last Friday. He was referring to the $10 McDonald’s gift certificate that was part of what models were paid for working the show.
- Guy Trebay, NYT

Julia Restoin Roitfeld, who says she eats McDonald’s “too much,” agreed. “I don’t like McDonald’s in New York; I love McDonald’s in Paris,” she said. Julia’s favorites are Big Macs and Chicken McNuggets. But Roitfeld will also partake before leaving New York: “I do have McDonald’s at JFK, because I think it’s still better than the food you get on the plane.”

- The Cut

"He's got critical acclaim and an A-list front row, but most nights Alexander Wang would rather eat Big Macs with his old friends." -New York Look's profile of Alex Wang

mash that shit

+

=

Goodness.

when the clock stops tickin...

diddy: i think i'm ready to settle down
kim: hahahahahhahahaha
kim: of course you are

you look sad.... so sad!

motherhood looks good on you

My Lady and Young Harlow. Chillin.

Taking in Zac Posen - NY FW

done. and done.

a pink streak is coming soon. that hot shit for spring / summer 09

used to argue with the cops wit my mink unbuttoned

it has GOT to be christmas. hooked this up to my sub woofin' speakers quick fast and in a hurry. and how hungry is free?!

THEY GOT NERVE.

chuuch

who SHOT ya

picture time boy boys! (and susie)

what recession?

spent $44 at the bar last night.

two drinks were involved.


i give up.

and show up in a margiela tux, i don't really give a fuck, and we only gettin' older

my sentiments exactly.

kanye, we need to talk.

i thgt you said you ain't want no robocop.

helen!

things that are good to me

photos: sidneylo
music: loves of my life

scene in my inbox / confessions

i was about to copy/paste an email i received this morning from a journalist that we did some work with. ripping me a new asshole about a check (or lack thereof) which is two months overdue.

i wanted to copy/paste this complete and utter ravaging of my entire life and put it up here just to ... i don't know, kind of have a laugh. something similar to the hysterics caused by one ass-whooping of a note I saw a couple years ago about Kool-Aid.

See ... because this email came close. and i would have posted it until i caught:

"This e-mail and all attachments are confidential and may be privileged. If you have received this e-mail in error, notify the sender immediately. Do not use, disseminate, store or copy it in any way. Statements or opinions in this e-mail or any attachment are those of the author and are not necessarily agreed or authorised by News International (NI)......."

in the corner of my eye.

but secretly, anything that reminds me of Ernica and one note about Kool-Aid makes me smile.


Alright fine. FINE!!!!

senior year at Georgetown ....

.... ....

I WAS STEALING MY ROOMMATE'S KOOL-AID! SEE, I WAS GOING OUT A LOT. DRINKING TOO MUCH. WAKING UP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT WITH A DRY ASS, PARCHED ASS MOUTH.

AND THE KOOL-AID WAS LOOKING SO COLD AND SWEET IN THAT GLASS THERMOS IN THE REFRIGERATOR. SWEAT BEADS JUST DRIPPING DOWN THE SIDE. AFTER I'D DRINK SOME, I'D FILL THE BOTTLE BACK UP WITH WATER.

i don't blame her (nor him) for the note. nobody likes watery-ass Kool-Aid. i'm sorry. forgive me.

hook em and cook em, cause these hoes is average cabbage

Things are going alright. Plowing along at work. Busy. But better to be busy in times like these... and I know y'all know where I'm going with this ...

Putting out fires. Learning every day these corporate lessons. The hardest ones? Yes. For a gemini, room- wrecker like me. Removing all emotion: logical, methodical, appropriate, never burning bridges.

Bumping that TI. Hard. Thinking, "well. I guess TI is hard." I didn't think that knowing he was going to jail. Think that now after listening to how his mind works. To what he has to say. Feeling like I used to feel bumping that Hov. Like I knew someone.

Hustling I guess. Thinking not really about where I am, but where I am hoping to end up. Plotting how to get there. Creeping closer every day.

Playing hard. Trying new things ...

My only preoccupation is how I will get it all done. But will do it. Always have. Always will. Because I can't see all the haters, it's easy to forget they are there. They're always there.

Fuck em. lol

it's a struggle out hea man. nothing rhymes wit' president. it's multi-syllabic.

fabian.

the most productive conversation i had all day

josh: hey boogie
what's up?
josh: what's up?
nothing
josh: how are you?
good
josh: your blouse is pretty
thaaanks
josh: what's up?
hahahaha

"Fabulousness only goes so far"

...Can we agree that most Twitter posts are about little beyond the fact of their own occurrence? Is it too much of a stretch to suggest that something existential is afoot? Is the sum of human knowledge much advanced by learning, instant by instant, that Marc Jacobs is having his hair dyed black, that Marc Jacobs is eating a McDonald’s burger and drinking a Diet Coke, that the beautiful Patti Smith look-alike model Jamie Bochert just got engaged, that the handsome and heavily-inked hairdresser Lorenzo Martone is not Marc Jacobs’s boyfriend? (He just happens to share a name with the person who is.) There are those who suspect that, behind all the hoopla, the viral communications, the artificial urgency of New York Fashion Week, there lies an aging and substantially dysfunctional industry slumping toward ... well, extinction is probably too strong a word...

More good news, from the NYT's Guy Trebay, here!

"...terrifically luxe, well-polished all-American sportswear"

Congratulations to Derek Lam & Co. for one of
their "strongest and most focused collections to date"!!!

i seeeeeeeeen it

i seen it before.

"christina milian signs with radio killa"

boogie: so, abt christina milian and the dream...
k. porter: bitch as [she's] fuckin for tracks dot com. dip it low, no one wants to hear your music. DIP the formaldehyde LOW into your chest cavity and KILL YOURSELF.

kimora, you'sa nigga.

i think the best things happen off-purpose. to cap off our wack tuesday, le and i ended up at the same place at the same time: baby phat's fall 2009 fashion show. unlike last week's bcbg and rag & bone, neither of us rsvp'd for tonight and, therefore, had nann one seat.

and yes, it's amazingly easy and convenient to have a ticketed space in life, but i find more excitement in hustling your way into a place that you know you deserve anyway. we like the sport. and we frequently ask ourselves, "how cld anyone deny these faces?":

yeh, no idea.

once le and i figured out that not RSVPing meant "standing room only," and "standing room only" proceeded to be in the balcony of gotham hall, all signs pointed to hell naw. but quitting is for quitters. we staked out our claim on the main floor and kept our eye on robert, the gatekeeper. if we've learned one thing abt finagling our way into clubs, VIP areas, and other roped off places, it's that timing is everything. after 10 solid mins of laying it hard on robert, the lights dimmed, and he was shooing us past the ropes and into the seating area. got 'em.

this is not abt clothes. or the walking dead models. this is abt my ever-evolving love for kimora. and tonight's confirmation that she is, indeed, a straight up coon.

when your front row includes:

julissa
monica
mario
patty field
naturi naughton
and these characters:

and your playlist goes:

jumpin' out the window
swing ya rag
arab money
brooklyn we go hard
my president is black (remix)

...you are ALRIGHT WITH ME, KIKI.

we lived. it was an amazing feeling to see the usually stiff and stuffy front row all boppin' their heads hard to jay's "never thgt i'd say this shit, baby im gooood, you can keep ya puss, i don't want no more bush," while dark-skinned glamazons floated down the runway in the ostentatious glitz that is baby phat. topped off with kiki's tittays juggling down the stage atop her pregnant belly at the finale and her precious babygirls hi-fiving the front row's one saving grace, djimon, this show was by far my most enjoyable and coontastic fashion week experience.

eeeeetherrr boooooy!

last one i promise

I feel like I should grab him by his ear and wash his mouth out with soap!

tag this.

I wanted to try something new on RBGs. We supply the photo, you give us the tag in the comments section.

Mine is below.

juxtaposition.

You see I loved hard once, but the love wasn't returned

I found out the man I'd die for, he wasn't even concerned
And time it turned,
He tried to burn me like a perm
Though my eyes saw the deception, My heart wouldn't let me learn
From um, some, dumb woman, was I,
And every time he'd lie, he would cry and inside I'd die.
My heart must have died a thousand deaths
Compared myself to Toni Braxton thought I'd never catch my breath
Nothing left, he stole the heart beating from my chest
I tried to call the cops, that type of thief you can't arrest
Pain suppressed, will lead to cardiac arrest
Diamonds deserve diamonds, but he convinced me I was worth less
when my peoples would protest,
I told them mind their business, cause my s*** was complex
More than just the sex
I was blessed, but couldn't feel it like when I was caressed
I'd spend nights clutching my breasts overwhelmed by God's test
I was God's best contemplating death with a Gillette
But no man is ever worth the paradise MANIFEST

They say everything can be replaced

They say every distance is not near
So I remember every face
Of every man who put me here
I see my light come shining
From the west down to the east
Any day now any day now
I shall be released
They say every man needs protection
They say every man must fall
So I swear I see my reflection
Somewhere inside these walls
I see my light come shining
From the west unto the east
Any day now any day now
I shall be released

A Babygirls EXCLUSIVE!

Jourdan Dunn backstage tonight at Marc. Exclusively on Babygirls via Toren.

TEQUILA SHOTS FOR THOSE WHO DON'T FALL!!!

back stage at wang, via the cut.

White House Fashion Ambassador

What with our First Lady's favorite designers' (Thakoon, Maria Cornejo, Jason Wu) shows already passed without a sighting, it's safe to say Michelle Obama will not be attending any NYFW events. She did, however, send White House Social Secretary Desirée Rogers in her place, and babygirl got the ultimate VIP treatment - a seat next to HRH Anna Wintour (at Donna Karan).

YOU KNOW WHAT

+

i can't.

come right here.

or was you givin' me the eye?

can i be.

complex cudi

congratulations babygirl!

after making pregnancy look daaamn fantastic,
MIA give birth last Wednesday to a healthy baby boy!








she blogs:

"MY BABY WAS BORN WEDNESDAY , HE IS HEALTHY , FINE , BEAUTIFUL AND THE MOST AMZING THING EVER ON THIS PLANET, OF COURSE IM HIS MUM!!!

ME AND BABY ARE PUTTING OUR TOUR DATES FOR 2010 TOGETHERAND MAKING MIX TAPESAND FIGURING OUT A WAY TO BREAK OUT OF THE HOSPITAL !
HOPEFULLY THE WORLD IS BEEN TICKING ALONG AND I AINT MISSED MUCH!
C U SOON ,
AND MY BABY BOY SAYZ HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! "

when it's time to dismember.

Diane Scotland added you as a friend on Facebook...
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Thanks,
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:Dies:

welcome to Hackney

a new London story:

the entrance to my building

and the walkway / ground floor

Old st.'s most popular graffiti image (not sure who he is yet, but he popular. and everywhere)

an East London regular - vintage Kate
my friend again ...
working on Brick Lane
i got the following friends to stop with promises of fame and fortune Stateside ....

...

...

...

... advanced apologies in case i can't deliver.

knock on your door. 3 in the morning. it's just us and the guns.

coliform bacteria anyone?

what 2 am and gchat will get you:

progress

ayo i got a resolution, this year i'm playin right
no 6:15 this year, yeh u can stay the night
we can go bowlin', it ain't like before
can't y'all see that i'm growin? i was so immature
i was young and havin' money
havin' honeys come to the crib, diggin' they shit
and they couldn't get cab money from me
some bad chicks didn't get past the bridge
i went to one trump plaza on they asseses
no room service, just snacks and shit
work with those little debbies, when u done get ready
the chicks i was fiendin to smash, let em lean on the cash
wld take em on long trips, then break em with long dick
there was no such thing as strong relationships
but im off that playa shit
i need a chick that practice tai chi, still can buy weed
and gimme some good head, and i'll make her remind me...

about your waterguns...

this weekend started with a biased but very enjoyable slam dunk competition. nate robinson stole my black heart with this dunk over superman and devout christian dwight howard (he's 23). are you single dwight??? anyway, nate, deservedly so IN MY OPINION, took the title.

daequan cook of the illustrious miami heat took home the 3pt shoot out title with deodorant balls in tow.

THEN CAME THE EAST

boogie: bitch are u scouting this game
k. porter: bitch am i
boogie: are all these niggas fine
boogie: bc i can't
k. porter: i'm blogging abt whoring myself for the east's starting 5
boogie: haha yes!

i want everything to do with all of these waterguns.

love taps.

gina: that's easy for you to say, you always got somebody
whitley: that's right, and her name is whitley.

i don't wanna hear another statement from anybody's uncle/cousin/mother/dad.
robyn. fenty. please. now.

jeezy don't do it...

what in the keyshia cole hell is jeezy tryna do to me???

i love it.

it's freedom time....

if you're over the age of 30 and STILL wearing braids...
you've officially run out of excuses.

you're still fine as February is 28 days.
but you 40 year old over there with the graying braids? are not.

jason wu opener

jourdan, you can do whatever you want.

the books, they find me

standing on the platform waiting for the 2 with my recent purchase in hand, i'm reading diligently. train pulls into the station, but it's going deeper into brooklyn on the manhattan track. that ain't right. the conductor's window stops right in front of where i'm standing. he pokes his head out, notices what i'm reading.

c: who wrote that?
boogie: chad kultgen
c: white guy?
boogie: yeh, i think so
c: what he say?
boogie: dunno yet. i'm on pg 8.
c: you believe that?
boogie: i don't know. we'll see.
c: don't let that mess with any of your relationships.
boogie: hahahaha. okay.

i must got 9 lives

it started as a down day--pants, no heels, all black no color, minimal makeup, cut swooped to the side, a bland morning ladies. dead.

the yellow post-it stuck to my desk read "for [boogie.] love, k." under the post-it, a stiff, black piece of cardboard, patent front, matte back, with the words "rag & bone, fall 2009" quietly emblazoned on the shiny side. dead.

run to a beauty event at saks. run back to the office. publisher to boogie: "do you wanna go to bcbg in my place? i just can't. tell them, im ill. i mean, i am mentally ill. pleaase?" dead.

run out of the tower (this day is pretty much all abt running), immediately hail a cab. it's 2:53, show starts at 3:00. "bryant park pls!" it takes me 15 mins to figure out the entrance is on 6th, not 5th. at one point i just wanted to cut a hole thru the fucking tent and walk right to my seat. i wear my ticket on my hand and it serves as an all access pass to, life. lookers-on wait in vain for a sighting. who do y'all really think is up in here? i float past them and right into the path of a tall, dark, and handsome. um, where do i go? right this way. we're flirting. find my seat, say hello to my editors, take it all in. gen' and emil and mimi look stunning to my right. the entire nytimes staff, it seems, will not take off their coats. i follow suit. a queen behind me notices solange, "oh, i decided? i guess." dead. she's prettier in person. lights off. i spend more time bbm'ing andre than anything else. lights on. i'm underwhelmed.

i have time to kill before rag and bone at 5. so i head to 5th with sloane to buy some shoes that i was NOT supposed to buy. but it's valentine's day. so, whatev. this excursion, of course, takes way more than the 30 mins it was supposed to, and i end up running up and down 42-45th streets for abt 15 mins before finding a gotdamn cab. it's 5:15 and i'm legit abt to have a child. i haughtily get into the cab, "west 26th pls." le calls and gets an earful. in between yelling my frustrations with nyc cabbies in an nyc cab, i constantly quiz the driver with obnoxious questions like "is it much further??" "how much longer?" "can we like, fly?" $10, 15 more mins and one heart attack later, we arrive to 26th. i run down to cedar lake, where an exodus of ppl are all trying to cram into a pint-sized single door. dead.

after pushing my way thru the ppl who don't know where they're sitting and need to check in (i find this awfully rude, as it wldve taken two secs to, say, CALL, and find out prior to the show), i scan the place for my section. no one else from the mag is here, so it's like a needle in a haystack. two euro fashionistas catch my eye, and surprisingly one of them is right in my seat. i smile a knowing smile at her, and she sweetly moves one row behind, as i proceed to make friends with her friend. emil's here again. simon doonan. some fly-faced asian man across the way. this is where i belong.

the show begins, and i literally shiver. i was just here in september, and i waited and waited 5 mos. for a fall '09 collection ticket to appear. and it did. the thumping bassline is much harder than the disco inferno at bcbg. i live for some rags and bones, really. and i was loving every minute of it. that is, until THIS motherfucker stormed down the runway and just...

dead.

no sooner did i think marcus was too much before this bitch came and stepped right on my neck:

dead.

i didn't even have time to pick my face up off the floor before, only two models after jourdan, THIS biddy came for my ass:

DEAD, SESSILEE. JUST DEAD.

what i've learned from dylan and debbie

...is that you have not felt real deal leather craftsmanship until you have worn:
yves saint laurent

and dior homme.

oh...ok then.
thanks, babygirls!

cue overstimulation on set!

on 11

picture your favorites from the moma, the 'gug, and more modern art, the likes of which include the works of warhol, jean davis, and shirin neshat - all of these - on display in your workspace. last night i had the unique opportunity to tour our private client reception hall, on 11, with 1 of 7 curators of the jpmorgan art collection. and it was DOPE. founded by david rockefeller in 1959, the collection features over 30,000 works and is displayed across 450 company office locations around the world. historically, curators of the collection acquire pieces from emerging artists and although well-traveled, their international pieces are often bred by visual artists in the local ny scene. and that, i love. my personal favorite (not pictured below) was a still from a short film by an iranian producer - taken from a stage looking down at an audience of men and women. separated by a fence. a lone woman in the still looks away from the stage as her punishment for making "inapproriate contact" with a man on the opposite side. subtle political messages like these abound in the collective.

below are a few fone flicks i snapped...

robert smithson.

jonathan callan. fun house.

i forget

ashanti ceremonial swords.

a gift to rockefeller presented by felix houphoet-boigny. president ('60-93). ivory coast

and of course..
(also not pictured)..the gun burr used to shoot hamilton..ask about jpm (11 is heaven)

dream, you owe prince your life

if this ain't the beginning to "fast car" then i just don't know.



erotic city, can't you see
fuck so pretty, you and me

[this is how i like to imagine the lyrics.]

don't do it for the logo

i'm into bigger things
y'all niggas y'all know my style

at lunch with brandi today in the caf, we chatted abt dating over dim sum. bran' always has some foolishly hilarious story abt her recent romps with a gentleman in this city, and i sit wide-eyed and bushy-tailed listening to her shambles. she met a guy recently, one of those actor/model types. gorgeous, mentee to one of the most prominent black directors in America, well-traveled, educated, the works. in the midst of all that jazz, tho, brandi found herself twiddling her thumbs and resisting pulling her hair out each time they talked and/or hung out.

"it's the curse of the beautiful man, girl. im tellin' you."
brandi lamented.
"absolutely! i never even thgt abt it, but you're soooo right."
i cldnt have agreed more.

so you're gorgeous. okay. but you're uninteresting as hell. at the bar, as you talk abt your many accomplishments and overall greatness, brandi's looking past you tryna figure out what's going on with the lesser attractive, yet mysterious-looking boo over yonder. fail.

i think that's why i love love love couples that feature a stunningly beautiful woman, and an unattractive male. something abt them makes me feel like their love is somehow deeper, more complex and genuine than an equally amazingly attractive couple.

like these two:

[mr. and mrs. liya kebede]

and most certainly these angels:

[mr. and mrs. forest whitaker]

one of my bombshell babygirls has gone so far as to declare, "yeh that pretty shit doesnt do it for me. i like only date ugly dudes."

it took me back to a coupla summers ago when i bought some egregiously-priced chanel shades. the type you'd see in the pages of W mag with a "price upon request" tag in the edit credit. i went back and forth between loving and hating them until my mother told me to cover up the chanel logos on either side of my temples, look at the glasses in a mirror, and if i still liked the shades without the prominent CCs, then i shld keep em. needless to say, the shits looked like union square-in-front-of-forever-21-sold-by-your-favorite-african-woman-$5-joints without the promise of coco's signature initials. i promptly returned the shades and bought a house.

but i digress.

the moral remains, tho. next time you're letting that fly guy pass on looks alone, remember what i told you, and don't do it for the logo, BGs.

the box

fine dining and theater.
think 1920s harlem jook joint/speakeasy. whites, blacks, lace, cigarettes, skin, alcohol, laughter, actors, stories, haze, music, opera, jazz. altho it's reloaded for 2009 and you might catch "midget opera singers in Mexican wrestling masks performing Puccini's Turandot." whatever that means.

i just think that asking any more questions will confuse the hell out of me, so i'll just go and see what all the obscurity is abt.

helmed by the great-great-grandson of mr. hammerstein ballroom himself, "the box" has to be good right? i mean...anything titled "the box" is enough to get my ass there.

189 chrystie bw stanton and riv
theboxnyc.com

sloane!

go see where you gotta go

In the process of researching Brooklyn for this never-ending cities report (should really have just phoned up a few old friends back home…) (And yes, BK is getting its own section!)

i’ve come across some “Brooklyn-isms” as they’ve been deemed by academia. Amusing interpretation of Brooklyn slang as understood by (Caucasian) academics.

Copy / Pasted a few choice selections below:

-----------

Egg Creme: A drink made of seltzer, milk, and syrup that has neither eggs nor cream in it.

Lemon Ice: All flavors of ice are called lemon ice. A cherry flavored ice is a "cherry lemon ice". A lemon flavored ice is a "regular lemon ice".

Stoolpigeon: A rat or snitch. Also called a "stoolie".

Crooklyn: A reference to Brooklyn's reputation as a dangerous place. Made popular by the eponymous 1994 film by Spike Lee. The first exit off the Brooklyn Bridge sports a sign saying, "Brooklyn", with an arrow, indicating which way to turn to enter the borough. In the 1970s, the sign had a graffiti "C" over the "B", effectively turning "Brooklyn" into "Crooklyn". Because the city was broke, the sign stayed that way for nearly a decade.

Chest: The game of Chess.

Chess: The chest.

Lucy (or Loosie) : Bodegas in Brooklyn will often sell you a single cigarette from an open pack. The single cigarette is called a "Lucy".

"Hey, was your father a glazier!?": Said to someone who's blocking your view. Also heard as "What, was your daddy a glassmaker?"

Fugazy: Not on the up and up. If someone pulled a con ... a fugazy was pulled.

For all intensive purposes: A Brooklynization of the phrase "For all intents and purposes." Others in this category include "the piece of resistance".

Wack/Whack: Depending on what part of Brooklyn you're from, this either means "crazy", as in "he is wack"; or it means "to rub someone out" as in "he was a rat, so he got whacked."

Grow Legs: Something that's likely to be stolen. "Keep an eye on your suitcase. It's liable to grow legs".

Corner Man: A guy who spends much of his day sitting on a milk crate in front of a store, or on the corner. Some guys do it just to watch the world go by, other guys are "working".

Go see where you gotta go: Stop wasting my time.

Coney Island Whitefish: Condoms that wash up on the beach at Coney Island.

Blind Eels: Another name for condoms washing up on the beach. Gives you a good idea as to the condition of the beach in Brooklyn.

Boss: What your local deli or bodega guy calls you when he doesn't know your name. It's a term of good will. He might even call you "Big Boss", which is even better. You don't want to be called "Pal" or "Buddy", since they usually have sarcastic overtones. If he calls you "Chief", you're really in trouble.

BABYGIRLS IN THE HOUSE!

There are few babygirls more righteous than the ladies of the CBC - the 14 African-American women in the U.S. House of Representatives. Here's a smattering of some of my faves, starting and ending with my two faves, present and past. Get to know 'em!


Congresswoman Sheila Jackson Lee (D-TX)



Congresswoman Diane Watson (D-CA)


Congresswoman Maxine Waters (D-CA)


Congresswoman Carolyn Cheeks Kilpatrick (D-MI)


Congresswoman Barbara Lee (D-CA) - CBC Chair


And of course, this angel, may she rest in peace...
Congresswoman Stephanie Tubbs Jones (D-OH)

"what china look like?" an open letter to tito from brooklyn:

well..for fatsos,

there are tons of exercise machines in neighborhood parks. old ppl (see: senior citizen, above) rock out on these ALL day.

wayy up in the mountains you'll find..ski resorts, snowboards, and the red jumpsuit crew. this was taken at the nanshan ski village resort post tuna fish sang witches and fruit juice (mhmm!)
parties pretty much all look like this. cool kids and more wuwear than you'd peep at a rap concert in '96. speaking of rap concerts, below you got your

black hoodie rap. no lie. i swore i was in a bk bashment friday night, where i couldn't understand a thing except "INSAR! INSAAR!" (name of the rap trio performing)
(moi) in lieu of black timbs and black hoodies..

and it don't get no mo' china than

the new wide angle lens, and.. great walls,AND great (hot) pot con cerveza. any more questions?ps. that's mao in the waay back

okloveubye, amahrees modesto.

be choosey

with your words.
and with your lovers.

R.LES FOR PREZ!

Ryan Leslie's self-titled debut album, out today.
COP IT, BABYGIRLS!

Can you name them all???
HAPPY BLACK HISTORY MONTH!

DIVAS!

martha reeves and maxine powell.
annie liebowitz for vanity fair.
i die.

it can't be ridiculous*

the 42-yr old middlesex english teacher in me wants to really make these work this summer:

i stink i can.

* i needed this, noel!

fat shout to awilda

for puttin me and jenny onto talib circa 9th grade. it still bangs.

now THIS is black history

blaaaaaaake!!!

if you walk away from this knowing one thing, and one thing only abt me

it shld be this:

and in my idle head im thinkin' "cool."

kim porter: i think there are too many white women on our blog
kim porter: it's been eating my little black history insides up





fine, ho!

dare i say

the bitch looks GOOD. kim, find me this. my mexican awaits...

everything abt this

is me.

sent via BlackBerry by AT&T (pt. II)

what in the curtis jackson hassan iniko leonard washington hell am i supposed to do with this!? one of my blogmates wants me dead.

where they do that at?
ohio.

amanda: i just really want to be kate moss.
andre: you wanna be a raggedy old cokehead?
andre: just kidding, so do i.
dylan: i am her.

Madonna & Child

An unidentified extraterrestrial robot and Jesus Luz posed for quite the Klein spread in March's W. Phyllis has it all, babygirls, I just can't.

My 2 fave GRAMMY looks

estelle. bernard chandran. halston shoes.


jennifer hudson. rm by roland mouret. loubies on the feet.

NATURE...

...IS JUST SO BEAUTIFUL SOMETIMES!!!

MAKE IT STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dear Mischa,
No one likes you.
Love, ALT

P.S. Except Jessica Stam? Don't let that be her.

I can't get enough of this bitch!!

My new style icon took home a much-deserved BAFTA for his staggering powerhouse performance in Darren Aronofsky's "The Wrestler."

I LIVE FOR MICKEY'S CRAZY ASS!!

PIXEL ME RIGHT UP!

i need p's gucci jeans. that's really all.

our father who art in heaven...

Dear Lord,

What are the chances you can promise me that my next 4-6 year relationship will end up in something other than 2 kids that ain't mine, 1 kid that ain't his, both of us having an ex with titties, a threesome with katie couric, and... red lipstick.

You see lord, I'd MUCH rather true love. An 8 year relationship, 2 year engagement, pending jail sentence, 2 kids that are ours, 3 that are his, 1 that's mine, a tattoo on one of my luxurious titties and... a sequined herve leger. But he loves me though.

ok fine, lemme get a husband, 1 that ain't mine, 1 that will be ours in a few months time, and some red carpet shine...

i ain't picky.

AMEN.

i've had a headache all day. it's the dull achy kind that's soft enough not to need medicine, but irritating enough not to let you forget that it's there.

maybe because the first thing i saw on the news this morning mentioned the words "domestic abuse," "Chris Brown," and "Rihanna" in the same sentence.

thought, "ha - silly British, fuckin up the news again. -- All Black People Don't Look Alike."

Saw the pictures ... thought ... "well, the two of them together must have been fightin off someone else..."

sad.

i bought a wallet today

and i love it so much. partly because now i won't have to carry my money in a gold leprechaun's pouch. mostly bc it looks like this:

boogie: this wallet reminds me of mozart
susie: :blank stare:
boogie: i mean...monet

it's all fun and games 'til a nigga punches you in the face.

look who got all dressed up for our birthday

Happy Birthday RBGs!!

My gift to you guys is below.

get on nip tuck.

Somehow we missed this...

But thanks to Bazaar's fabulous March cover story, I was reminded of SJP rocking some bananas insane Balmain to the NYC Ballet in November. Too GOOD, babygirls!

A steal!

I saw this at a newsstand in Billyburg yesterday and damn near vomited $35 on the spot. Get to know Purple, and bow down to Diane. BG rockin' the Margiela blonde wig coat and looking every bit as fabulous as in the days of 54.

ENORMOUS PERFECTION.

SALMA'S BREASTS HAVE SPOKEN: YOU'RE NOT WORTHY.

REUNITED AND IT FEELS SO GOOD!

Nicole Richie Madden and Rachel Zoe socialized together for the second time in a few weeks (reconciled after the notorious "raisin face" feud) for the opening of some L.A. salon. Somethin' Rach' ain't eating is really working, cuz babygirl looks younger than Mrs. Madden!

WWW: Princess Lee Radziwill

75 years young, at last night's "he's just not that into you" premiere.


Needless to say, Lee and I are very close.


Front row at Louis Vuitton last year.


With her big sister, the late Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis.


With Martha Stewart.


With her close friend, the late Truman Capote

LEE RADZIWILL is an American socialite and style icon. She is the younger sister of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis and the former wife of Prince Stanislaw Albrecht Radziwill of Poland. At 75 years old, she is the reigning doyenne of New York City society, and looking as fabulous as ever. She is the first in a new RBGs series on the Most Fabulous Women in the World. Stay tuned!

MY NEW BORDERLINE LOOK!

i've been thinking i need to streamline my style a little bit - settle on some sort of look and really build it into perfection. and i found my inspiration in the unlikeliest of places - Girl, Interrupted: the late '90s movie about a group of semi-suicidal, maybe cray-cray young women (some with "borderline personality disorder") living in a mental hospital in the 1960s. i couldn't find a good pick of angie's leather pants, but if you've seen this gem, you already know they're perfection!








i'm calling it vintage overprivileged new england with a touch of rocker edge - it's that NEW NEW!

and is it just me or is winona really lily donaldson with a pixie haircut?

see you chumps on top.

de nef'.

over it

CFDA President Diane von Furstenberg stopped by a press conference with Mayor Bloomberg to announce plans to move Fashion Week from Bryant Park to Lincoln Center starting next year. Afterwards, the Queen D was rudely forced to stand in the background as Bloomberg took questions on other, NON-FASHION-RELATED topics. As you can see, babygirl's over it, and it's pure comedy - 'specially 'round :31.

BGs luhhhh DVF!

"I suggest to you tonight that if George Bush had selected the court in '54, Clarence Thomas would have never got to law school." - REV. AL SHARPTON

did you catch him, babygirls?! as if we don't have enough against you already, clarence. get it together. ask somebody. shame. shame. shame.

on a side note, we have one devilishly handsome crew of SC justices, no?

the future is here, babygirls

you simply have no choice but to peep THIS. it's david bergman's 1,474-megapixel (your dig' rocks maybe 7) panoramic photo of president obama's inaugural speech -- and you can zoom all the way up into lynne cheney's cold and sunken eyes. the most fun thing to do, of course, is peruse the VIP section, where you'll spot everyone from aretha to john madden (really?) to ol' newt gingrich - who, inexplicably and reprehensibly, is seated 2 rows in front of civil rights icon congressman john lewis. you might also see a justice of the supreme court taking a snooze like (s)he's way in the back of reiss 101 during elements of political theory.

take me on a journey through your face...

he hit that. i'm sure of it.

"if you need an example for how to live, then you just shouldn'tve been born"

1988

and i like a little sassiness
a lotta class
mami, reach in ya bag
pass the fif'

allie crandell. the city.

in boogie's perfect world

honey.

if you want beres to sing at your wedding...

"'There aren't many Jamaican artists in the highbrow visual-art world,' says Nicola Vassell, the Jamaica-born director of Deitch Projects, but one of our new faves is Ibn Kendall, whose show 'Coon Alchemy' opens this week at the NY Studio Gallery (154 Stanton St at Suffolk St. 212-627-3276; reception Fri 6 7-9pm, free; through Feb 21). Many of Kendall's pieces are inspired by 1940s and '60s family pics in Jamaica."
-TimeOutNY

we're going and that's final.

behold, my life on a glass

for virgos, denial is not just a river in egypt, but a permanent residence. any wrong-doing or erratic behavior must be someone else's fault. perfection is sovereign in your world and no sacrifice is too great to achieve it. better not let anyone in your pants, either. after all, virgo is named for the virgin constellation and they'll just let you down anyway. in fact, if this glass is filled with alcohol, put it down and walk away.

urban outfitters gave me more than susan ever did.

i want a root canal.

don't they?

Ivana Trump arriving at Christian Lacroix Couture show in Paris, 27 January 2009.

Ivana Trump at the Franck Sorbier couture presentation in Paris, 28 January 2009.

...

Becca Cason Thrash, the Houston social who was famously dubbed 'the next Lynn Wyatt' by the New York Times, emphasized couture's endangered cultural import, pointing out that "if people don't come and support it, what's going to happen? We've lost four or five houses in the past years, and we're going to lose more. I wasn't sure if I should come...I thought it seemed excessive, but my husband said 'you should go and you should buy something.' Not everyone's lucky enough to have a husband like mine!"

Glenda Bailey, editor-in-chief of Harper's Bazaar concurred, offered a compelling economic argument for the institution's importance, saying, "When it comes to couture, in addition to the craftsmanship, which we are in danger of losing, we have to think of the sheer amount of jobs it sustains. People say we should be saving, but actually we should encourage the people who have the means to spend. Too many people think it's frivolous, but couture generates huge amounts of income."

But the most bullet-proof case in favor of couture, crisis be damned, came from Ivana Trump, who spoke to me from the backseat of her chauffeured Mercedes sedan, protected from the cold by a plush fur coat: "People still need to get dressed, don't they?"

excerpt of "why the $100k dress isn't over" by sameer reddy for the daily beast. images from zimbio.

im pretty sure all of my friends are just...coons

this is a really long post.
i don't apologize in advance.
because my blake will appreciate it.

we make a million off beats, 'cause our stories is deep
and fuck tomorrow, long as the night before was sweet

im really fond of group activities. think soccer mom. i'm always the one like "cmon guys, this'll be fun!" or in other cases "if you dont write back to me, i swear i'll fucking kill you." same shit. to any event, we had a group activity on gmail today. 3 of my faves participated and the below is what transpired after we all thgt long and hard abt ourselves.

B says:

4. I've never been a fan of thick women.
5. I'm really good at figuring out how people look behind their clothes, I thank 3 years of wrestling for that skill.
6. I want to have sex all the time.
7. I don't like dancing because I lack rhythm and because it aggravates my wanting to have sex all the time issue.
8. I was a virgin up to 3/4ths of the way through sophomore year of college.
9. I don't trust women and don't put my all into relationships because of a lackluster return on investment back in my younger days.
10. I fall asleep standing up on the train.
11. I fall asleep hooking up after midnight.
12. I'm either terrible or good in bed, there is no ok.
13. I have to concentrate to keep my eyes closed while kissing.
14. I find ways to relate my life to Dawson's Creek.
16. I hate people who speak to Professors in private to ask questions.
17. I hate people who contribute their opinion in class.
18. I judge people based on what schools they went to and could never date someone whose schooling I didn't respect.
20. I am attracted to all of my close female friends.
21. I cry during movies and tv shows all the time and laughed during the only funeral I've been to.
26. I judge. A lot.
28. I would never toss your salad.
29. I don't like school, but not in the it's cool not to like school way, but in the I often times deliberately do not do graded assignments or will answer 0 questions on tests or quizzes as a show of disgust.
32. I can be quite condescending.

C says:

1. i judge women who have small engagement rings.
3. i am obsessed with children ages 2-6. i often gawk at baby clothes in stores and try to engage other people's kids when im out in public.
5. i once let a short, mexican man finger me in a crowded bar in cancun. it was amazing.
6. im only turned on by lesbian porn.
7. i clean and organize excessively.
9. i cried almost every morning when i had to wake up to go to prep.
10. my biggest fear in life is contracting HIV. i got tested before i lost my virginity.
11. my thighs are my favorite part of my body.
12. i hate when ppl stay on the escalator until the very last moment.
13. i think my friends walk on water.
14. i had an 8 yr relationship by the time i was 20.
15. i can't ride in a car unless all the doors are locked.
17. when i was young, my dad used to have a set of turntables in his room and i'd always make him rap to me.
18. the doctors told my parents they were having a boy. and they all thgt so until i actually came out.
19. once upon a time, i thgt harlem was a country in africa. true story.
21. i used to write raps in junior high and my mom fully supported it.
22. sometimes i wish i was a kappa.
23. i think loyalty is the most important trait anyone can have.
27. i want to be the president of LVMH.

then B came back:

This is addictive, I'm just going to keep going and not get any work done today.

1. I once almost choked to death while sucking a woman's tittay because she had powder on it and I couldn't tell and didn't want to stop even though I sensed there was a weird substance present because I was young and afraid of looking like I didn't know what I was doing.
4. It bothers me that I don't think my relationship with my brother is as good as it should be.
5. I get frustrated when people say I only pay attention to light skin women.
6. I have a long track record of light skin women.
7. I've never pursued a girl and not gotten her.
8. Sometimes my pursuits take years.
10. I find it really attractive when women can spit lyrics from actual lyricists.
12. I used to watch Wild On!, for the GGW commercials and so I could choose places to travel to where the alchohol flowed freely and the women were easy.
13. In 7th grade I cried when I got below a 90% on a spelling test for the first time.
16. I obsess over new women in my life and then quickly forget about them.
17. I faked an orgasm once. I got caught.
20. I would never trust any of my male friends with my girl.
22. I used to be a klepto.
24. I judge you when you have a hairy vagina.
25. I judge you when you are too loose with the lols.
26. I'm self conscious about the way I breathe during sex, specifically when I'm out of shape.
29. I'm an excellent wingman.
31. When I video chat I spend most of the time looking at myself.
35. I'm more loyal to my female friends than I am to my male ones.
36. Awkward sexual tension gets me high.

A says:

1. if it's meant to be crispy, i don't want it soggy. therefore i don't reheat fried chicken, i eat my cereal within 20 seconds of pouring the milk and only put syrup on a quarter of my belgian waffle at a time. it's prob also why i don't use lotion.
2. i love diners and order the same thing every single time. waffle with sausage and two eggs scrambled with cheese and onions.
3. i hate confrontation and try to avoid it at all costs.
4. in fourth grade my favorite group was SWV. apparently i talked about them enough that somehow their manager or whoever came to career day and found me to give me an autographed photo. i have no clue where the hell it is.
5. being with my ex made me think that i had a thing for big boys. but big boys tend to drip sweat on you from even the thought of sex. imagine what happens when you get going.
6. i'm learning to make my booty clap.
7. the first time i worked a stripper pole, i was really damn good. the second time, the pole became dislodged from the ceiling and i subsequently busted my ass.
9. sometimes i feel that i'm never gonna get married.
10. when i was in seventh grade, i used to tell my parents i was going to the library to do math hw. this was usually on Mondays and Thursdays because the library was open until 8. I was actually at Terrance's house
11. to this day I don't think I've seen a peen bigger than his. I swear that 13yr old was working w/ like 10.
12. when i would go to the library it'd be to print out Biggie lyrics. "Another" is in my top 5 fave songs of all time. and I got my unit in Prep to put "Armed and dangerous, aint too many can bang with us" on the back of our shirts as our unit slogans. Of course, since we weren't true gangsters, we had to change "bang" to "hang" and I'm sure it was reasoned that we were "armed and dangerous" with knowledge.
13. i've only shagged 2 personas. 1 of which i regret. so I guess that brings my number back down to 1.

D says:

1. I thought I was rich when I was little because we had the first printer on the block. It was a dot matrix that printed a lot of banners, that you had to tear those margins off the sides of the paper. Until I noticed it had a Racal Milgo sticker on the side. My dad was laid off a few years later. We were not rich.
2. I hate when ppl have hundreds of unread facebook messages and notifications. It makes me feel inadequate, unpopular and obsessive.
3. My goal in life is to be as feminine and masculine as possible at the same time.
5. Ppl think i'm so funny that I should do stand up but, I only want to make ppl laugh in the everyday situations they dnt laugh in. Ppl come to comedy shows for the purpose of laughing. I dont want that pressure.
6. At my lowest point of filth though i have had many, I peed in plastic cups to avoid walking to the hall bathroom. I often reused cups.
8. I often feel alien in all environments in one way or another.
11. I question whether or not I have the ability to kill.... I hope I do.
12. I stopped wearing underwear 2 years ago... I'll never go back to wearing them again.
13. i'm more excited abt being a wife than a mother. I have a long list of baby names, no list of possible husbands.
14. i want to be the sexiest woman the men i date have ever dated.
16. I think ppl who dnt support gay rights are stupid. it's a conversation i desperately avoid with friends because i dnt wanna look at them differently.
18. I google everything. I read and reread wiki so I can be a reservoir of useless information. This also tends to get me in trouble as, "black booty" will often come up in auto complete.
20. I wish I had a raspy voice. (See 3) I used to scream into my pillow at night and go out into the cold with out a scarf.
21. I practiced the 2 Legit 2 Quit hand motion for years.... I still can't do that shit
22. When I sing gospel songs or really famous love songs, I pretend I'm signing. Ever since the speaking hands choir came out I been messed up.
23. I used to masturbate to mental images of Lavar Burton. I loved Reading Rainbow.
24. the last thing i googled was "unnecessary hysterectomy"

needless to say...it took every ounce of energy in me to not get myself fired today. all RBG tags apply here. done.

i got $88 on susan.

Needless to say, when it comes to Valentine's Day, you are the celestial favorite.You are holding all aces, dear Libra, so if you are in love, you can expect your partner to lavish you with all the love and affection you could ever want. Your best day will be February 13, when the moon is in Libra - you may want to celebrate early.

i'm about to order this susan... don't play with me!

dear VIBE,

your headline says it all. kindly kill yourself. yesterday.

love,
boogie

frankie, however, offers the only gem that saves this charade of a magazine:

“i love payless, the ghetto mall, and the flea market. payless got the same thing as louis vuitton, except louis vuitton is a bigger name.”

my thoughts exactly!

seen on cl.

move. over. frida.

this was the most righteous bg in slumdog. our obsession with tittays has led us astray. what happened when we appreciated the beauty of children ....or was that a hatred of baby mamas? i forget. any who, mama loves you ayush mahesh khedek!

even more urgent

if lauren doesn't check her bbm in the next 30 seconds i'm flying the delta shuttle to harper's' front door!

i'm on my comma.

why do they call it a period? i feel like, a period is a full stop and a comma is a pause. and when you're on your period, nothing stops. in fact, everything keeps fucking going except you have to pause to do it differently. i still have to go teach even though i feel like mike tyson has my uterus is in a headlock. i practically want to eat a piece of steak from a bowl off the gotdamn floor. and right about now, i'd like to rip my uterus out through my ears and deep fry it, while having sex, while cuddling with my puppy, while shitting, while crying through an episode of fresh prince.

i can't even form full sentences at this point. i want to just bark and foam at the mouth. and you'd think a bitch would get a day off for this. a full stop. but no, i get a fucking pause. a comma!

::shoves 30 days of birth control down throat... non stop.... forever::

an email from my coworker

Time: 10:17 am
Subject: URGENT

Message: You are the bomb.

and with that...she smiled.

"Pack Light"

well, it's moving day! and it's snowing. our first snow of the year. after everything, the snow feels like a gift. i've missed it just about as much as i've missed everything else. packing and moving always makes me thoughtful, nostalgic ... sentimental. all the things about the place i'm leaving that bothered me so much don't feel quite so bad today. but then, i guess it has to be hard to be moving out.

separating things that seem to have become inextricably intertwined. did i buy that or you? is that mine or yours? and then there actually seem to be things that are just ours. the refrigerator full of food that i bought. but bought for us. and i don't have the heart to take anything out. picturing him here in this house alone tonight reaching for the handle, opening the door, to find nothing in there but the light. no.

i can buy more food. plenty of grocery stores in the city.

sometimes i wonder why i write on this blog. i mean write. not post abt fashion shows or kim's socks with stilettoes or omahyra's tittays. why i let you motherfuckers in, i wonder. but this is the shit i live for. the shit that wakes me up, launches me out of bed, reaching for my laptop, fingers not working fast enough. my fingers can't work fast enough to get this out. it is 3:33. but it got me up. fabe said, "yo, lauren, you're like, an amazing writer." i rejected that. but this is the shit i live for. i struggle with letting you in on so much. i really do. but i live for it. i live for going back to georgetown. for homecoming. and having that girl come up to me like "l, that post. it came at the right time. it was so right. it meant so much to me at that time and i kept saying to myself. she got it right on the head. she hit it so hard. i love your blog. i mean that." that girl. i had only exchanged hi hunnies with her when i was in school. but she got it. and i gave it to her. if not for that, then what else?

i know why he put this song on my ipod. and he's right. i dont like when ppl tell me abt myself. especially through a song with words, lyrics like this. but it has helped me look in the mirror.
"when you were young," the killers. and you're right; he doesn't look a thing like Jesus.

i am my mother's only one. it's enough. it took my mother 6 yrs to have me. and i was all that came. i am most grateful that she had only one child.

i rock from side to side when im in church. not to the music. not to the pastor's voice. to nothing, really. but from the time i sit down in the pew to the time i leave, i rock. it makes me feel ok. i notice it, but then again i don't.

i love you, diana, because you get me. i love you so so much. i dont understand much about our friendship, but that's fine. i love sitting with you on the promenade. talking abt why brooklyn is so good and why black people are so black. i miss picking you up from penn and listening to the isley brothers and harold melvin only and all the way home. i really love you so much. i loved you most when you came back from brazil. you know that. but it hasn't decreased since then or anything. so i just thgt it'd be good for you to know that the most that i have ever loved you, i still love you just like that.

old ladies hold my hand and bring me to tears with their fingers. their skin feels so amazing, so full, so wise. i grip her wrinkles for dear life. i just want her to hold my hands like this forever. she knows my heart. and she squeezes my hand in hers. it is the squeezing that kills me. like a mother sucking the poison out of her child's snake-bitten wound. i want her to keep squeezing my hand. until the poison is all out. i want her hands to touch my face, stained with the salt left over from the night before. her palms say "it's okay baby. it's okay." and sometimes i need that.

i like this.

6. i don't like to discuss the intricacies of my plan for my life because I don't want to deal with someone's lukewarm enthusiasm to the passions that get me out of bed in the morning.

[these 25 random things have really taken me places.]

ohio.

this weekend could fit in my pocket. snuggled between four flights, two weekdays and one weekend on a piece of paper folded thrice so it would all fit. i tend to make small things huge, and huge things small. so that bbm he ignored was paramount, when four years of ignorance seemed a trifle. so this time, in 09, i had the chance to do things differently. this weekend, was small. just three days for us, one vacation day for him, four flights for me. it's one line in our story. he gets off of second shift in march, and he'll come to dc. or maybe february 19th will come and he'll decide he doesn't fit here. and he won't come. but that'll be ok, because i'll always have this weekend.

he calls me beautiful. and by dinnertime on friday, after I had gotten out of the shower, he told me i look better without the makeup. i disagreed, but decided not to wear any to dinner. i felt like the most beautiful woman in the room. he always opened the door. he asked if i wanted to go to the show. he watched slumdog millionaire. with me. and that didn't take 4 years. when we looked out the window and gazed at the city lights 17 stories down he whispered, "ya'll don't appreciate us." I said, "who? women don't appreciate men?" he said, "no, ya'll civilians don't appreciate us linemen and journeymen.. look at all them lights we take care of." i laughed one of the many laughs of the weekend. he asked why i liked an average man like him. his voice rattled my trunk. i replied, because you are a man. he says i'm gonna be a big time lawyer and i'm gonna marry a big time ball player or a doctor or a lawyer... not a working man like him.

he said it like he wanted the best for me, but i was from a world too different than his own for him to give it to me himself. saturday i turned away from him i cried while he was watching the 300. not many tears. not really sad. just feeling too much in this small episode of my life. he said i smile at him like his mother does and it makes him blush. i figured it was the least i could do. if i never see him again, i'll always have this weekend. i haven't felt this beautiful or special in a long time, and if it's just for 2 or 3 days that i will, i'll take that. and i'll love it.

when i landed at bwi, i changed his ringtone to "hello." i haven't heard it ring yet but, he texted to see if i landed ok.

if i were a boy i'd date models. and myself.

sabina karlsson. fat shout to sweden and gambia.

this was all you, vas!

quotable

kim porter: all I'm saying is i don't know
kim porter: maybe I'll never see him again
kim porter: maybe I will
boogie: glad it happened kind of thing?
kim porter: yea

superbowl commericals better deliver tonight

'cause this shit was plum hilarious.

fightin' words

latoya jackson been lookin' fly as hell recently, don'tcha think?

Voletta's been goin' hard on this whole Kim in Notorious shit. I tend to side with the Queen Bee on all things, but it's hard not to listen to Biggie's momma. Voletta claims Kim was unhappy about Naturi Naughton playing her, because she wanted someone with lighter skin (some rumors even have it that Kim wanted an Asian woman to play her!). And, well: "She felt the character we chose for her was 'too dark,' " she told Hip Hop Weekly. "Do you know why the character was too dark for her? Because she's a white woman trapped in a black woman's body, and you can tell the world I said it, because those are Lil Kim's words. She should be ashamed of herself."

Hmmm. I'ma have to pass on that.

While not contradicting Ms. Wallace, Puffy is politely defending Kim: "The only thing that I can say about the movie ... that was great from their relationship is that he really respected her as an artist, as an MC and was into her like that. All the other extra stuff, it was a movie. And Kim will have her chance, her own movie will come out there. Give Kim her chance. Don't believe what you saw in the movie; it wasn't only about that. She was with us, that was our queen. She'll always be the queen. She got every right to feel that way. The movie is really about Big. Don't focus on none of our parts; focus on Big as the man."

Good to see their relationship hasn't descended into complete shambles.

where the party at? and can i bring my gat?

SPOTTED: Amaris at Newark International Airport

JUST what i wanted

a chrome ping pong table.

can't say kanye neva gave me nothin'.

if you know where to begin

somewhere between the last redtube clip and waking up to go church in the morning is where i am.

mouse on the apple, ready to shut down, i think, wait.

i take one more look out my window to make sure my mom's range, sarah, is still outside my building. i parked her in the the only spot that i can see if i press my face up against the cold, cold window. her presence in my 'hood makes me a tad uneasy. furthermore, i'm a virgo and she's a white woman in a blk neighborhood.

so here i am, after redtube, after wait, and before church.

paul's iPod lies on the floor. i'm thinkin' i gotta listen to this song before i go to sleep. while i go to sleep.

and how lucky. it's about you.

wassup missus double-you

yessir.

peepd over @ v$.

tailor made

...to lay up in the shade, reminiscin' on how i sex the best and shit.

every now and then, if i'm lucky, my elevator stops on the 21st floor. and if i'm really lucky, someone who works on the 21st floor will get onto the elevator with me. then, i'll have eye candy until we get down to the lobby. tailored, structured, a little unshaven, fragrant, manly, unbridled eye candy.

sometimes, i just wanna press 21 "by accident," get off the elevator 3 floors too early, and wander around the playground that is