Hilary

31 Days of Red Lips

August 1st.  We have crossed the threshold into the End of Summer.  The daily routines are changing in small increments in preparation for going back to school.  The majority of the sun and fun, the pool trips and water park adventures are behind us. Several among us have some “end of summer” trips planned, one last hurrah before it’s time to think of packing school lunches, signing permission slips, and being on time for carpool.

I’m looking forward to that routine, but that’s not to say I won’t miss the fun we’ve had.  I was scrolling through my camera roll the other day, looking at a pictorial diary of our summer shenanigans.  Lots of time outside, lots of Popsicle stained faces, lots of skinned knees.  I moved over to my Instagram account and flipped through our May, June, and July activities, and several feeds belonging to my friends.

Can I just say that I love Instagram?

I’m a sucker for great photos.  I find myself getting motivated and inspired by the variety of quotes and photos that I see.  The folks I follow on IG never fail to pepper my feed with awesome.  As I was scrolling through, I found a photo a friend posted of herself over Independence Day week-end.

@alisted002 via Instagram

She’s lovely, no doubt about that.   I was struck at the simplicity and ease with how she was rocking those red lips.  My brain started firing and in the space of a few second, my thought process unfolded like this.

Aww, Dena’s so stylish.

I like her red lipstick.

What a great idea for the 4th of July.

Hey, I have red lipstick.

I should go put it on.

It’s 7 o’clock at night, though.

I’ll put it on anyway.

Hmm, I remember when I bought this lipstick.

Maybe I should have gotten Ruby Woo or Red Russian.

I wonder if Dara ever bought her red lipstick.

I should ask her.

I should ask Tati what red she uses. 

Probably Ruby Woo.

Maybe I should do a post about how to find the best red lipstick.

That’s been done to death.

Maybe I’ll do a photo post of famous red puckers.

I love that photo of Marilyn Monroe in the white dress and the red lips.

Red lips are glamorous. 

I should try it more often.

Maybe I’ll do a red lip challenge.

Several weeks later, I’ve worked out the kinks. I’m ready to open it up to everyone who wants to have a little fun and look good doing it.

31 Days of Red Lips: A Red Lip Challenge

1. Take a photo of yourself wearing your red lipstick. Headshots are preferred.  Duckface is acceptable!

2. Tell us what brand and the name of the shade you are using.

3. In a word or two, tell us how you feel when you wear red lipstick. Think of it this way, “I reach for my red lipstick when I want to be/feel/look . . . . ”

4. Share it on Instagram using this tag:  #31daysofredlips

That’s it!

From today, August 1st, until August 31st, I’d love to get as many IG pics of red lips posted as possible.  I plan on tagging all the beauty bloggers, fashionistas, style mavens, and trendsetters that I follow on social media in the hopes of getting them to participate. Can we flood the IG feeds with photos of red lips for a month? I have no idea, but I’m willing to try.   Are you?

This is my red lip photo from last year for a different Instagram challenge. Don’t worry, I’ll do a new one just for this, but in the meantime, here’s an example to get you started.

 

Maybelline Red Revival with MAC Red Russian Lip Glass.

I reach for my red lipstick when I want to feel glamorous.

#31daysofredlips

Puck up, buttercups!

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IN: ON: August 1, 2014 TAGS: , , , , BY: Hilary
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photography projects & DIY

From the Archive: Black & White Wednesday – Freckles

 

(source)
(source)
 
I’ve really been feeling freckles.  Spending time outdoors, even with sunscreen and hats, the sun does find a way to my face, making my freckles pop.    We all know that warmer temps mean more skin hanging out, but using sunscreen and other protective gear to prevent burns, blisters, and sun related skin disease is a good rule of thumb year round. Just a little PSA for you.
Hemlines have been steadily rising in conjunction with the thermometer. There’s lots of  exposed expanses of calf, knees and thighs. Collars have been peeled away and necklines have dipped nto more relaxed positions.  Clavicles and the sweet nape of the neck are  showing with with more reckless abandon. Sleeves stripped off, shoulders unabashedly uncovered! Beauty marks, cafe au lait spots, and freckles, freckles, freckles are springing up.
I’ve pared down my beauty routine significantly to let my natural beauty show.  I’ve put away the concealer and foundation in favor of my SPF laced tinted moisturizers.

I’ve heard that freckles are where God and the angels kissed you before you left heaven.  Every summer, as the sun draws them into view, I see count new kisses and, I fall in love with with each of them.

 

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IN: photography projects & DIY ON: July 30, 2014 TAGS: , BY: Hilary
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Be My Guest: Meet Yolanda Lee

My guest bloggers have been hard at work, fine tuning their posts about their experiences with natural hair.  Today, I’m pleased to share with you the words of Yolanda Lee, model, actress, swimmer and naturalista.  Yolanda has a very powerful story that I hope you find as inspirational as I did.

When was the last time your hair saved a life?

After being asked to be a guest blogger, I immediately started thinking of my soapbox issues, and which one I cared about the most. Should I talk about swimming in the black community?  Health over hair? Loving ourselves enough to take better care of our bodies than we do our hair? We women of color love ourselves a good hairstyle.

Should I shed light on the fact that in the last week in the ladies locker room at the gym, I’ve overheard two different conversations from white women about their hair, realizing that we women of color aren’t alone in this fight of what to do with our hair after a swim or a workout?

Should I talk about all the people that seemed to be offended when I cut my hair because women are “supposed to have long hair”? What about the group that seemed to be offended as my hair started growing back because it wasn’t curly, wash and go hair, or it “appeared” that I wasn’t doing anything with my hair because as it started growing back, I didn’t get braids. I never realized my hair could evoke so many different responses (um, that’s another blog).

My thoughts kept going back to swimming in the Black community, but how would I tackle this topic? How would I talk about something that has been taboo and a stereotype in our community for so long that, according to the Centers for Disease Control, “the number of fatal drownings are three times higher among African Americans between age 5 and 14 than for their white counterparts in the same age group.” There are a few contributing factors for this reason. One that stood out to me most was in an article in Urban Views Weekly July 16th issue, which stated, “According to the CDC, most children who cannot swim have parents who cannot swim.”

As I touched on the topic in my documentary It’s Only (a) Natural, I witnessed my friend drown when I was young. It paralyzed my whole family and put a fear of the water in us for over 30 years, until three years ago, I decided to cut my hair off and learn to swim.

Cutting my hair was a big enough issue on its own. I was a model/actress. My hair was what I was known for. It was what would get me direct bookings without having to attend a go-see, audition, or casting. I was one of the first to “go back to natural”, more than 13 years ago. It was different, and clients like that, no they loved it.  I was the token black girl with the hair. I wasn’t offensive (um, that’s another blog as well). Blacks and Whites alike would not care if I represented a brand; with the big curly hair, I was ambiguous. Was I biracial? Who knew and who cared as long as no one was offended.

Making the decision to change my signature look was a big deal and about a three year discussion with myself. Two years ago it was time. I was ready to cut it. Most of all I was ready to swim, get over the fear and be one of those to break the stereotype that Blacks can’t swim.

Why did I need to cut my hair off to learn to swim? What was wrong with me? Did I really need to cut my hair to swim? Why couldn’t I just wear a swim cap like everyone else? Why wouldn’t I just braid it like everyone else? Better yet, why learn to swim? Like so many African American women that I talk to about learning to swim or just getting in the gym, I didn’t want to be one that would say “I can’t go swimming today. I don’t want to mess my hair up.” I knew I would need every inch of me committed to getting over this thing. I wanted to give myself no excuses for not jumping in.

It’s the reason I’ve started Black Girls Who Swim on FaceBook. I want to encourage more women of color to learn to swim and/or to get their children lessons. I want to encourage more women of color to get over the hair issue and do something that is life saving, as well as a good workout.

The most brought up topic in this group is “What do you all do with you hair?” I wouldn’t care if every one of those ladies asked that questions once a day if that meant they were taken lessons or going to the pool with their children. I know in our community hair is a big deal. I just pray that more women realized that the life of their children is a bigger deal. Learning to swim could be the difference between life and death. When was the last time your hair saved a life?

photo courtesy of Yolanda Lee

Yolanda Lee has been an actress/model for over ten years. In addition to being signed for commercial and print work in New York through CESD, Yolanda has had commercial, print and acting agents in Connecticut, New York, Philadelphia, Maryland, Washington DC, Virginia, and North Carolina. She has booked seven national commercials and a number of regional commercials, been a part of numerous print ads, and walked for department stores such as Macy’s, Lord & Taylor, and Neiman Marcus. Over the last few years Yolanda has spent the majority of her time in Virginia helping grow the family business, working on her goal of swimming laps, and finishing her documentary It’s Only (a) Natural.

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IN: ON: July 28, 2014 TAGS: , , , , BY: Hilary
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hair recipes

Recipe Friday: Lobster (Lobstah) Rolls

The Hubs, the girls and I have spent this past week up in New England on whirlwind tour of Boston, Cambridge and Martha’s Vineyard.  Earlier in the year, we received an email from one of my great aunts about a family reunion that would be taking place in Boston at the beginning of August.  August is when we usually make our bi-annual trek up the Eastern seaboard to spend a week on Martha’s Vineyard Island, a locale that holds some family history for us. We decided to mash up the reunion and the Vineyard for one extended vacation, having my parents and my brother join us for the whole she-bang.

It’s been a great week. We left VA on Thursday morning at 1am, with Snap, Crackle and Pop asleep in the back. The car was stuffed from undercarriage to roof rack with luggage, beach gear, food and provisions, and all manner of iPads, iPods, wireless headphones and DVDs.  We made great time and were in MA by 11am on Thursday morning.  We tooled around Cambridge for a bit and caught up with college friends and their children for dinner before collapsing at the hotel.  Friday found us spending the day at “Hah-vahd”, where the Hubs had attended HBS.  We took a tour of Harvard Square, Harvard Yard, the Memorial library and buildings, as well as the the second oldest, still operational university building in the country. The first? Uh that would be the Christopher Wren Building at the College of William and Mary (::koff:: Tribe Pride::koff). And let me just say that while I enjoyed learning about John Harvard, the Harry Elkins Widener Library and the like, my cute little boat shoes that I had purchased months ago, specifically for this trip, did not appreciate having to walk hither, thither and yon.  They let me know by gifting me with a blister upon each pinkie toe the size of a bing cherry.  Thank goodness for flip flops!

Friday night was the first event of the family reunion; a meet and greet.  We had a great time reconnecting with family, meeting new family and watching our girls play with their cousins.  The DJ was excellent and had people out of their seats for the majority of the evening.  V was getting down with the get down, doing some dances that could only be described at a cross between yoga and Vogue-ing. M and C lead the way when Cupid Shuffle came on, with my mom hot on their heels.

Saturday, we spent the day with the family having the full on family reunion experience.  There was a bounce house and a pool. There was touch football and line dancing in the grass.  There was a DJ and there was food. There was lots and lots of food.  Several of my cousins had pre-ordered copies of “Maggie Sinclair, Will You Please Fix Your Hair?!“, and had them available for sale.  We held a mini book-signing at the pavilion, which was so amazing. The day was fun-filled, food-filled, family-focused.  We fell into bed on Saturday night with full bellies and smiling faces.

Sunday morning, we were up with sun to catch a 9am ferry over to the island to begin the second part of our vacation. After making sure we’d seen friends and family while in Boston, we wanted to take the next seven days to just relax.  I find that when I go away with groups of people, for some reason, I always make to make sure that everyone is having fun and doing what they’d like to do.  I never want someone (myself included) to come away from a vacation wishing they’d done something else.

When I would talk with my mom or my brother about what they wanted to do while they were on the island, everyone had a different thing topping their list.  The Hubs  and my dad just wanted to relax.  The girls and my brother wanted to go to the beach.   I wanted to visit some stores, maybe try a couple of new restaurants and just take it easy. My mom wanted to catch up with some friends but mainly, she wanted to get a lobster roll on Friday.  Friday is lobster roll day on Martha’s Vineyard.

See, my parents began coming to island many years ago, primarily as kids, off and on.  They honeymooned here, staying at a cottage belonging to my great-aunt Josephine, who lived on the island year round.  As time passed, Josephine got older, and needed help.  My parents would go to the island, make sure she was alright and keep her company  for a while.  Josephine loved lobster and she told them about lobster rolls that you could buy at the local church at the corner of Franklin Avenue and Clough.   My folks would pick one up for her and for themselves.

“I’d never had one from the church before, and let me tell you,” my mother told me, “It was the best lobster roll I ever had. Equal to or better than the Maine lobster I would get in Perkins Cover!”  Evidently, that’s quite an endorsement.

This is my sixth trip to the island, and I’ve never had a lobster roll.  I needed some clarification as to what all a lobster roll before I decided to make it my lunch time meal.  You all know how I feel about meal time; I don’t want to waste an opportunity to eat. The lobster roll is essentially chunks of lobster mixed up with some mayo and salt & pepper (reminiscent of tuna salad, I’m thinking), scooped into a hot dog bun.

“You get a small bag of chips and a drink, too,” my mom explained. “And you can by a slice of pie. Usually two different options — lemon or blueberry.”  Oh, well in that case. . .

All this can be yours for $17.  Not a bad deal.  The church that we plan to visit isn’t the only place on the island where you can get a roll.  There were a few churches and VFWs in some other towns up island that had them available earlier in the week.  One of my friends who had been on island last week, visited a place that lists a Bacon Lobster Roll with fries on their menu.  Mmmm. . .bacon.

Sidenote: My brother gifted me with a Maple Bacon Donut from Back Door Donuts and let me tell you, he has firmly secured his place as my favorite sibling, never mind the fact that he is my only sibling.

But, this is a post about lobster rolls.  I’ll give you my review of the lobster roll once we’ve partaken of this island staple. It seems like a fitting close to what’s been a wonderful trip.  In the meantime, here’s a recipe that will bring the island experience to you.

Happy Friday, y’all!

 

New England Lobster Roll

via Cooks Illustrated

via

For our lobster roll, we mostly adhered to tradition—top-loading supermarket hotdog bun, mayonnaise, and lots of lobster—but we added a hint of crunch in the form of small amounts of lettuce and celery, and we added complimentary brightness with lemon juice, cayenne, and chives.

For our lobster roll, we mostly adhered to tradition—top-loading supermarket hotdog bun, mayonnaise, and lots of lobster—but we added a hint of crunch in the form of small amounts of lettuce and celery, and we added complimentary brightness with lemon juice, cayenne, and chives.

This recipe is best when made with lobster you’ve cooked yourself. Use a very small pinch of cayenne pepper, as it should not make the dressing spicy. We prefer New England–style top-loading hot dog buns, as they provide maximum surface on the sides for toasting. If using other buns, butter, salt, and toast the interior of each bun instead of the exterior.

Ingredients

  • 2 tablespoons mayonnaise
  • 2 tablespoons minced celery
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons lemon juice
  • 1 teaspoon minced fresh chives
  • Salt
  • Pinch cayenne pepper
  • 1 pound lobster meat, tail meat cut into 1/2-inch pieces and claw meat cut into 1-inch pieces
  • 6 New England-style hot dog buns
  • 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
  • 6 leaves Boston lettuce

Instructions

1. Whisk mayonnaise, celery, lemon juice, chives, 1/8 teaspoon salt, and cayenne together in large bowl. Add lobster and gently toss to combine.

2. Place 12-inch nonstick skillet over low heat. Butter both sides of hot dog buns and sprinkle lightly with salt. Place buns in skillet, with 1 buttered side down; increase heat to medium-low; and cook until crisp and brown, 2 to 3 minutes. Flip and cook second side until crisp and brown, 2 to 3 minutes longer. Transfer buns to large platter. Line each bun with lettuce leaf. Spoon lobster salad into buns and serve immediately.

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IN: hair recipes ON: July 27, 2014 TAGS: , , , , , BY: Hilary
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hair recipes

Recipe Friday: Comfort Food

I’m in a bad mood.

I feel like Alexander, but instead of having a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day, it’s been a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad couple of days.  Okay, that may be a slight exaggeration, but it’s been kind off a rough week.  I’ve  been battling a summer cold going on ten days.  I’ve had a sore throat, a dry cough, and some serious post nasal drip.  I tried to beat it into submission with Vitamin C, Mucinex, and Nyquil, but it just won’t quit.  This cold took all of those measures and doubled down, leaving me waking up scared that I had pink eye because my eyelids were glued shut with gunk.  Thankfully it wasn’t pink eye, just (according to my doctor) the mucus in my sinuses  leaving from my eyes as well as my nostrils.  Wonderful. The sore throat comes and goes depending on how regularly I take a dose of Advil for my root canal. 

Oh, did I forget that part? Yeah, I had a partial root canal last a week ago Wednesday that left the left side of my face feeling like it was sliding down to my shoulder.  Last month, I chipped my crown and couldn’t get in to see the endodontist until last week.  He brings buckets of good news saying, “Oh, well let’s clean this out and treat what looks to be some kind of irritation in your gums. Then come back in three weeks and we’ll put a new crown on!”  My hopes of being able to use my whole mouth to chew were dashed.  I thought I was going to go in there, have them pop the new crown on and I’d be on my way.  I’m forever working against the clock: the girls are only at camp for three hours. The sitter comes for three hours  within the camp time frame.  I have to boogie to and from camp to get to the DDS and then back to get the girls.  Thankfully, I had had the foresight to ask a friend to scoop up my campers with hers.  What I thought was going to be a relatively routine appointment became a novocaine laced, dry mouth inducing two hour drill session.  And all this time, I thought I’d been taking care of my teeth!  In truth, my teeth are strong and healthy.  I just bit down on something the wrong way and caused the crown to chip off.  When I look at it, I can barely tell, but when I touch it with my tongue, it feels like the Grand Canyon.

So, root canal on the heels of a possible cold. And, I was supposed to go out of town for a girls’ week-end, too.  Those plans got scrapped.  Scratchy throat and puffed up face do not make for a good time.  I slogged through the rest of the week, my left cheek resting in my left hand as I went about my routine.  The pain in my face subsided as the pain in my throat gained traction.  Thankfully, the Hubs came home over the week-end and played nursemaid, plying me with tea and urging me to rest.  When he left to go on a business trip Monday, my cold peeped out of hiding and came back with a vengeance.

I kept pumping myself full of Vitamin C, orange juice, Advil, whatever I could get my hands on.  The doctor urged me to rest, but that’s a pipe dream.  I have kids.  Rest and I broke up a long time ago.  I tried to get brawlick on the cold and went to the gym, where I let the Cardio Kickboxing instructor jab, upper-cut and roundhouse kick us all into a sweat induced stupor.  The cure for anything is saltwater, right?

Well, I felt better after having worked out, but there’s this little patch of rough, itchiness at the top (or would that be back) of my throat that won’t quit.  I don’t have time for that!  I kept up the sweat regimen with weight lifting on Tuesday, Zumba on Wednesday and Step Aerobics on Thursday.  I feel like I’m getting the best of it, but part of me knows I do need to rest.  When the kids go down for bed, I’m usually hot on their heels.  However, we decided to break C of her pull-up habit this summer, which means taking her to the toilet several hours after she falls asleep and then again at the crack of dawn.  When it’s lights out at 8, I’m ready to go with them, but I hang on until 10, put her on the pot and then knock out.  Inevitably this past week, I’ve woken up coughing around 4.  I’ll get up and put her on the pot, my only consolation being that by doing this, I won’t have to wash the sheets at 7 in the morning.  Still, I think the only one being conditioned here is me.  Hello, Pavlov’s dogs?

Add to the mix the Sisyphean task of getting my book published.  Every time I think I’m ready to launch, I hit a snafu.  There have been some production issues. There have been some printing challenges.  There have been so many little aggravating sidesteps, I am starting to believe that this part is actually harder than the writing of the text.  I’ve had such good feedback and momentum from FaceBook and Pinterest about Maggie Sinclair. I feel like I’m letting people down when another day goes by and the book is unavailable.  I know, I know, good things come to those who wait. Rome wasn’t built in a day. Measure twice, cut once.  Practice makes perfect.  Patience is not a virtue I possess, but I don’t have a choice.  Still, I’d rather it be exactly how I want it to be than thrown together just to meet a deadline. I’m getting there, and I have to remind myself of everything that I have accomplished thus far.  The irony of that last statement is pretty strong because it is exactly what I tell the Hubs when he’s getting frustrated with his perceived lack of forward progress on his projects.

Like I said, it’s been rough week. My fridge looks like a barren wasteland — I think there’s a box of baking soda, a dried up apple and maybe a swallow of apple juice in the container.  The girls have been clamoring for the pool, ice cream, screen time on their devices, and trips to Target.  My good intentions and my execution are not in sync.  I think I’ve maxed out all the help available to me, and even asking for that was difficult.  You know how I hate asking for help.

I’m not throwing myself a pity part here —  Don’t cry for me, Argentina!  I just need to get some things off my chest.  When I was laid up in the dentist chair, my mouth open wide, no clue what was being done and only able to see the different drill bits out of my peripheral vision, I thought I was going to crack.  The dentist is a really genial, grandfatherly type of guy.  I knew if he patted my shoulder and asked me if I was okay, I’d probably start crying.  Shoot, when he jammed that needle full of Novocaine in my gums and told me what I great job I did, I almost did start crying.  I think I was in need of some kind of comfort, milk of human kindness. What I needed then, and now, is just some comfort. I’m looking forward to the Hubs coming home from his trip and getting wrapped up in his arms.

In the meantime, I’ll probably stuff my face with something that will be a poor, but delicious, substitute and keep pushing forward.

Happy Friday, y’all!

Blondies

via Smitten Kitchen

Blondies
Adapted from How to Cook Everything

Ingredients

8 tablespoons (1 stick, 4 ounces or 113 grams) butter, melted
1 cup (218 grams or 7 3/4 ounces for light; 238 grams or 8 3/8 ounces for dark) brown sugar
1 large egg
1 teaspoon vanilla or 1/2 teaspoon almond extract
Pinch salt
1 cup (4 3/8 ounces or 125 grams) all-purpose flour

Directions

  1. Butter an 8×8 pan
  2. Mix melted butter with brown sugar – beat until smooth. Beat in egg and then vanilla.
  3. Add salt, stir in flour. Mix in any additions (below).
  4. Pour into prepared pan. Bake at 350°F 20-25 minutes, or until set in the middle. I always err on the side of caution with baking times — nobody ever complained about a gooey-middled cookie. Cool on rack before cutting them

Further additions, use one or a combination of:  

  • 1/2 to 1 cup chopped nuts, toasting them first for even better flavor
  • 1/2 to 1 cup chocolate chips
  • 1/2 teaspoon mint extract in addition to or in place of the vanilla
  • 1/2 cup mashed bananas
  • 1/4 cup bourbon, scotch or other whiskey; increase the flour by one tablespoon
  • 2 tablespoons of espresso powder with the vanilla
  • Stir 1/2 cup dried fruit, especially dried cherries, into the prepared batter
  • Top with a vanilla butter cream or chocolate peanut butter cream frostingNew favorite combination of late (added 5/24/14): We’ve gotten on a kick making these again, but I’ve really wanted to increase the toasty butterscotch flavor and have done so by: browning the butter, using dark brown sugar but only 3/4 cup (I prefer these less sweet these days), increasing the vanilla to 1 1/2 teaspoons and the salt to 1/4 teaspoon fleur de sel or flaky sea salt, plus a few flakes crumbled on top. I use 1 cup chopped bittersweet chocolate and 1/2 cup chopped walnuts or pecans as the mix-ins. Hope this provides some inspiration!
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IN: hair recipes ON: July 18, 2014 TAGS: , , , , , , , , BY: Hilary
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hair

Be My Guest: Meet Maya Smart

With the social media buzz that I’ve been working on to get everyone excited about “Maggie Sinclair, Will You Please Fix Your Hair?!“, my own blog has not gotten the attention that it deserves.  It’s challenging to keep all the plates spinning, but it’s good to know you’ve got people who step up to help when called upon.

A few weeks ago, I reached out to several of my blogger friends, asking them to share some of their natural hair experiences with you! The response I got was wonderfully encouraging and across the board enthusiastic.

This week, I want to introduce you to Maya Payne Smart.  Maya is as genuine as it gets.  A self described “globetrotting writer who enjoys food trucks, toddler art and college basketball”, Maya is a renaissance woman who, along with her husband, is raising a curly girlie of her own, while simultaneously offering insight, reviews, opinions and amusement on her blog. I asked Maya to unpack for my readers how her experience being a naturalista influences how she chooses to care for her own daughters’ hair. Her thoughtful, moving letter to her three year old daughter Zora speaks volumes.

Dear Zora,

This is how you learn to love your hair in a world that requires such lessons.  First, you remember who gave you that glorious head of curls–your parents, your ancestors, your Creator.  Then, you care for it like a treasured inheritance.

Loving your hair, like loving your family, your days, your life, requires two things: reverence and effort.  To truly love your hair, you must hold it in high regard and you must behave like you do. As you behold it in a mirror or touch its willful strands, you must pause to consider what it does for you and to define what it means to you.  Then you must treat it accordingly.

You’re not yet three years old, so this whole discussion may be a bit premature, but not by much.  Your hair is cornrowed into a side ponytail today. You wear it that way because I’m calling the styles and long ago adopted a no heat, no chemicals, no fake hair policy for us both.

There’s no peer pressure for you to wear it any other way yet. Most of your friends rock afro puffs, box braids and two-strand twists.  But you can look to their mothers’ relaxed and pressed styles for a preview of what’s to come.  There comes a day when many moms of daughters with hair like yours reach for hot combs, flat irons and chemicals to “tame” kinky tresses.  And when they do, I expect you’ll notice the difference and have some questions for me.  Mommy, why doesn’t my hair blow in the wind?  Why can’t I run my fingers through it?  Why does it get curlier when wet and frizzier in the sun?

The decision to straighten or not is a personal one, albeit one loaded with social, cultural and economic significance for black people. From the moment slaveholders shaved off the elaborate hairstyles of their African captives, hairstyles have mirrored our rocky rise from anonymous chattel to distinctive humanity.  To this day, hair is impossibly tangled up in issues of black identity and social acceptability.  Just look at the debate raging over the U.S. military’s new grooming guidelines, which are biased against black hair that tends to grow out, not down.*

I want to raise you to love your hair in its natural state so that dying it, relaxing it or not will truly be a choice for you.  Some women say that they straighten their hair for fashion or convenience, but many are deluding themselves.  They are crushing the natural texture of their hair because they were taught to hate kinky hair or never learned how to love or take care of it.  They are relaxing, weaving and wigging their hair because in the twisted skin-shade, hair-texture hierarchies of American history, straight hair sometimes affords economic and social advantage**.

I am committed to teaching you this to fortify you against the crazy you will undoubtedly encounter.  Soon you’ll observe women who don’t swim or work out because they want to keep their hairstyles intact.  You’ll see some who will chemically process their hair to the point of baldness rather than embrace their God-given hair texture. You’ll notice others who would rather sport expensive wigs and weaves than take the time and do the research to nurture their own locks.

As you get older, others will look upon your natural hair and start jumping to conclusions about your class, your potential, your politics.  I know because these same people see my afro puff and label me “militant” and worse. (Note: The labels say more about them than about me. Like Whitman, I contain multitudes.)

Avoid their prejudice and make sure your natural hair love is never reduced to straightened-hair hate.  Not every naturalista is empowered and not every relaxer is rooted in shame.

When you are old enough to choose your own hairstyles, may they reflect great self-awareness, self-confidence and vision.  Always remember who gave you that head of hair–your parents, your ancestors, your Creator.  Then care for it like the inheritance it is.

Love,

Mom

maya-head-shotMaya Payne Smart writes to inspire women to live happy, meaningful, powerful lives.Of course, hair has everything to do with this.  Check out Maya’s advice, reviews, interviews and musings at MayaSmart.com.

 

 

 

 

* http://www.nytimes.com/2014/05/01/opinion/when-black-hair-is-against-the-rules.html?_r=0
**http://mayasmart.com/hair-story/
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IN: hair ON: July 10, 2014 TAGS: , , , , , BY: Hilary
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recipes

Recipe Friday: 4th of July

Well, the day is drawing to a close, but the activities continue in full effect.  Certainly tummies are full, shoulders are sunkissed and arms and legs are getting bathed in bug repellant as families and friends gear up to grab some grass and watch some fireworks.

We had a leisurely day in these parts.  We went for a walk, M and C scooting and biking as the Hubs and I took turns motoring V along on her push trike.  We had out cook-out at lunch time: hot dogs, hamburgers, Salsa Fresca and chips.  V napped, we lazed about before embarking en masse to Target for a sprinkler and then Whole Foods for some yummy dinner bites.

I can never leave Target without coming out with more than I went in for.  I know I’m not alone in that, but why? Why does that always happen? The Hubs is immune to Target’s siren song, but when we went into Whole Foods, he turned into Paul Prudhomme.  As our cart filled with fruits, veggies, cuts of meat and fish, he quipped, “We’re going to feel this in our whole wallet”.  Oy! Never go grocery shopping hungry. You come home with stuff you know you shouldn’t be eating (Hello, bakery bag of snicker-doodles. Nice to see you, quart-sized container of chocolate dotted trail mix) and/or come home with more food that you have room to store. Yes, those are cherries and grapes are just going to squat in the sink until we can find some real estate for them.

Dinner was a smorgasboard of options.  Shrimp grilled two ways for M and C. Pizza for V. Crabcakes and Baja Crab bites for the Hubs. Steak and fries for me (who’s a happy girl?).  As for dessert?   I had my eye on some cupcakes at Whole Foods — you can’t go wrong with cupcakes, but in an unmatched feat of strength, I left them behind.  We’ve got Cherries, grapes, watermelon, strawberries.  Add some ice cream or cool whip, and you’ve got a yummy, relatively health after dinner option that touches on patriotic.

Of course, it doesn’t get any more American than apple pie.  While I didn’t whip one up for today, just thinking about it has given me a taste for that crumbly, butter, sweet goodness.

Happy Independence Day, y’all!

Cinnamon Crumble Apple Pie

via Epicurious

photo by Brian Leatart via Epicurious

 

A thick layer of finely textured crumb topping crowns a tall mound of apple filling.

Ingredients

Crust (personally, I use a storebought crust)

  • 1 1/3 cups all purpose flour
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1/2 teaspoon sugar
  • 1/4 cup (1/2 stick) chilled unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
  • 1/4 cup frozen solid vegetable shortening, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
  • 3 tablespoons (or more) ice water
  • 1/2 teaspoon apple cider vinegar

Filling

  • 3 1/4 pounds Granny Smith apples, peeled, cored, sliced 1/4 inch thick
  • 2/3 cup sugar
  • 2 tablespoons all purpose flour
  • 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
  • 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

Topping

  • 1 cup all purpose flour
  • 1/2 cup sugar
  • 1/4 cup (packed) golden brown sugar
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 6 tablespoons chilled unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
  • Vanilla ice cream

Preparation

For crust:
Mix flour, salt, and sugar in large bowl. Add butter and shortening; rub in with fingertips until coarse meal forms. Mix 3 tablespoons ice water and vinegar in small bowl to blend. Drizzle over flour mixture; stir with fork until moist clumps form, adding more water by teaspoonfuls if dough is dry. Gather dough into ball; flatten into disk. Wrap in plastic; refrigerate 30 minutes.

Position rack in center of oven and preheat to 400°F. Roll out dough on lightly floured surface to 12-inch round. Transfer to 9-inch-diameter glass pie dish. Trim overhang to 1/2 inch; turn edge under and crimp decoratively. Refrigerate while preparing filling and topping.

For filling:
Mix all ingredients in large bowl to coat apples.

For topping:
Blend first 5 ingredients in processor. Add chilled butter cubes; using on/off turns, cut in until mixture resembles wet sand.

Toss filling to redistribute juices; transfer to crust, mounding in center. Pack topping over and around apples. Bake pie on baking sheet until topping is golden, about 40 minutes (cover top with foil if browning too quickly). Reduce oven temperature to 350°F. Bake until apples in center are tender when pierced and filling is bubbling thickly at edges, about 45 minutes longer. Cool until warm, about 1 hour. Serve with ice cream.

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IN: recipes ON: July 4, 2014 TAGS: , , , , , , BY: Hilary
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