About Me

Living in the Caribbean is probably like living anywhere else, with the same ups and downs. But it does have its own vibe and flavour and gives me a unique perspective on most things. I'm often sarcastic, mostly funny, always looking for a new adventure. I have not boxed myself into any one category of life. I love a lot of things and dislike a lot more. I write about them all.

Confessions of a Bougie Black Woman

I have been growing more and more fascinated by the whole concept of "being bougie" and what that really means. In Caribbean parlance, bougie can become "stoosh/stush". I have been called both stoosh and bougie and guess what? I own my bougieness.

Bougie.- aspiring to be a higher class than one is; a hacked truncation of the word bourgeoisie, which refers to the middle class in Europe, but a more affluent class level in the United States; anything that is perceived to be "upscale" from a blue collar point of view.

And this bit irritates me -

Bougie - Characteristic applied to African American women who display snobbish traits; often used to describe African Americans who are accused of "selling out"

While I am Afro-Trini, the term "bougie" still seems to hold some negative connotations to it and I am here to debunk this negativity.

If bougie means wanting to be successful, self-reliant, awesome and aspiring to create a legacy my kids can be proud of and aspire to, then I am bougie

If bougie means not having my junk spilling out of too-short skirts and too-low cut blouses, and not making a spectacle of myself via my mode of dress, then I am bougie

If bougie means that I can walk away, risking the wrath of those who may call me a coward, because I choose not to "run up some girl's chest", pull her weave, cuss her mama etc, in the middle of town, over nonsense, like a man for example - cite me - I am bougie

If bougie means I avoid certain events because they cultivate the type of behaviour as described above, in favour of less volatile environments, then I am bougie

If bougie means I have an appreciation and love for culture, whether it is a ballet or a night at the theatre, as much as I do for a fete, then I am bougie

If bougie means I don't drop it like it's hot in a public forum, get drunk or pass out after a night out, then yeah, I am hella bougie

If bougie means that I am willing to sacrifice certain things, so I can be independent and not have to find a baby daddy to "mind me", then yeah, I am mega bougie

If bougie means I also like, not prefer, but also like, eating in a certain way, in certain places, and having certain types of food and beverages such as sushi and wine, then I guess I am indeed bougie

(Let me also say, I am not a great patron of street food, not because I am "bougie", but because I am anal about food preparation, and the flagrant neglect of public health regulations. That's not bougie. That's a bit neurotic and I confess in this case, I bloody well am! And in this case, I have cultivated a love for cooking to circumvent the risk of food poisoning. lol)

If bougie means I will, without batting an eye, dismiss a man who disrespects me verbally, physically, emotionally, either in public or in private moments, then hell yes, I am bougie

If bougie means I will appreciate a man who treats me well, respects where I am now and where I have come from to get there and supports me in going even further, and even if he is not black, then I guess I am bougie. (God forbid he is not black, then I have sold out in the worst way!)

And bougie does not mean one has to look down on anyone, or be a snob. It should be about empowerment. I am not only bougie but I am true to my bougieness and committed to being a bougie black woman. I own it.

The ballet, "Giselle" gets a jolt of Trini flavour

Dancers from the Metamorphosis Dance Company
in rehearsal for "Giselle".
Photo credit: Karen Johnstone
via Metamorphosis Dance Company
Last evening, we spent the night in dance and what a night it was.

The Metamorphosis Dance Company put on their re-worked tropical version of the ballet, Giselle. The production was absolutely fantastic and being there was time well-spent. Every scene was produced with great care and love, and delivered with the same passion by the dozens of young dancers. I loved the relevance of the production - from the colourful costumes of the villagers, indicative of the Caribbean spirit, to the insertion of local folklore. And it's not many Caribbean men who will commit to the art of ballet, so having the male leads be all local was a treat.

I think, based on the post-show conversation we had with other people, the show was really well received by everyone and I personally give it 2 thumbs up. Tonight is the last show, so I am also glad I made last night's show, as I am exhausted and surely could not commit to going out the night before the start of the taxing work week.

Of course, nothing ends a glorious night at Queen's Hall like a couple cocktails and some flirting. Nothing.

Celebrating my Inner Child (and my inner hunter)

Photo credit: FunStation, Trinidad
The weekend was so nice, I don't want it to end.

Yesterday, I took my nephew to Fun Station, where they have all the rides and games and all that fun stuff. Truth be told, I had more fun than he did. There's nothing quite like waking up your inner child, is there? From bumper cars to the shooting range (I especially liked this - maybe I have some pent up resentment and aggression. Beware! ), I had myself a damn good time. It was surely a funny sight though, as I had my Easter Bunny ears on, which my nephew loved, and a rifle in my grip, with dogged determination to hit my target in my eyes.

The kids were having a ball, but sadly, so were their horny fathers. I mean, if your thing is dirty husbands and baby daddies, then this would be the place for you. lol. There they were with their kids in their arms, but their eyes on my ass. I was personally having too much fun to be bothered.

Finishing up my tasks for today which included laundry and my fat busting soup for the week, and then I am a vegger's dream for the rest of the day! The weekend was way too short. Five days can never be enough. :-)

Spanx - Surely a New Method of Torture

(The blog looks different, doesn't it?)

I remember saying once, If I ever get to the point in my life where I need to buy and ultimately wear Spanx, I will shoot myself.

Pass me the gun!

I walked into the lingerie store yesterday and there I was - in the control undies section. I could hardly believe it myself. What a nightmare. I now understand the pain of the corset wearing ladies back in the day.

The sales girl was happy enough to show me all the various versions of this thing, while trying to be part of a fake sisterhood.

Oh yes. I have a pair of these. These are good.

She said this with a straight face as I did an internal eye roll because this heifer was as fat as a spaghetti stick with no obvious signs of lumps or bumps. Lady, gimme a break!

There was one brand of torture wear - it has to be torture to yank yourself into these contraptions, and risk fainting after an hour of having your guts compressed to their breaking point - called Body Wrap. The thing looked like mummification of the living. I could not understand how anyone could feel comfortable in that. Lingerie sessions are usually fun and sexy but this one was rather gloomy. On top of it all, these predators are making a killing off fat people. These things are not cheap. I mean, wow...I have to pay through my nose for your product to literally suck the air out of me?

I put Body Wrap, Spanx, Maidenform and all the other sick brands back on their racks and walked out the store in total denial, and without making a purchase. I have somehow convinced myself that in 6 days I can somehow miraculously transform my body from Michelin tyre dude to Heidi "The Body" Klum and can tell Spanx et al to bite me. I say this after confidently and unabashedly eating 2 chocolate chunk muffins and having a couple vodka spritzers today, not to mention the roti lunch. Lovely.

In reality, I will most likely be back in the store on Saturday morning to get me something so that my ass does not look like a satellite at my event that night. It does however give me yet another wake up call that I need to get myself back in gear with the workouts and also quit snacking. Seriously.

Every Kitten Heel Does Not Have Its Day

The Kitten Heel
While watching this week's episode of "Basketball Wives", an important, yet apparently unacceptable trend reared its ugly head. The women, in between pulling each other's weaves out and calling each other "bitch", were aghast that one silly "wife", Kenya, was actually wearing...wait for it...kitten heels.

Now in case you needed reminding...

The kitten heel is the unhappy medium between a flat shoe and the seductress high heel. I will admit to owning shoes with kitten heels. Walking on sex bomb heels is not comfortable, and sometimes you want a bit of a heel. But I will admit, a kitten heel is no stand-in for a good and proper sexy high heeled shoe.

The sexy high heel
The kitten heel does not evoke the same sensual emotions which a high heeled shoe does. Men don't get tongue tied over a women's legs in kitten heels. The kitten heel does not elongate the leg or give definition to the calf. They are just   there.

But Michelle Obama wears them. I am sure a few of you own a pair. I admit to having a couple pairs. I prefer a high sexy heel, but they are not always practical or comfortable are they? So what do you think? To kitten or not to kitten?

Poor kitty.

Game of Thrones is Back: The North Remembers

Stannis Baratheon and his sorceress
After what seemed like the longest 8 months ever, the battle continued on Sunday night, with the season 2 premiere of  Game of Thrones.  Hallelujah. An epic wait, lemme tell ya.

I had been counting down to this night for monthssss, and then earlier this week, came to a devastating realisation - I did not have HBO. lol.

I was so caught up with work that I still did not have HBO as of 1pm today. Thank God for 24/7 customer service. I will no doubt disconnect this package at the end of Season 2 but until then...

King Joffrey - a bit like Herod, a bit like Hitler - a terror
The best moments of this premiere episode:
  • The introduction of Stannis - Well cast, and long awaited.
  • Robb and Grey Wind, vs Jamie - How the tables have turned, The boy conquers the mighty Lannister, and his dire wolf, huge and brooding, almost eats Jamie's face off.
  • The slap heard around the kingdoms - Joffrey is a twat, and Cersei exercised her motherly right to discipline the twat, at much risk to herself
  • The Roberticide- How else can you call the slaying of King Robert's bastard children across the realm? Awful but makes for captivating television
  • Tyrion - By far, the best character, and always a joy to watch.
  • The eye candy - Of course, the Stark boys are still hot. Duh.
Can't wait for next week!!

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