Lady Fiend.

Apr 17

actuallygrimes:


Linda and Naomi by Peter Lindbergh (1991)

this is the look

actuallygrimes:

Linda and Naomi by Peter Lindbergh (1991)

this is the look

(Source: naomihitme)

Apr 16

2brwngrls:

important

2brwngrls:

important

(Source: fariharoisin)

Apr 15

life hack: don’t.

georgialobbe:

#never

(Source: hipsterloli, via graceantonia)

Apr 14

[video]

“I don’t know what Paul Newman’s situation is, but I make sauce.” —

Kelis, in the NYT having no time for the interviewer. (via glossylalia)

Hearts in my eyes.

Your ex-husband, the rapper Nas, put your wedding dress on his album cover. Why did he still have the dress?It’s not even the dress. The joke behind that is that it’s the slip to the petticoat to my dress. I think when I moved out I just left it. That’s all he had, poor thing.

(via sexartandpolitics)

oh my god this whole interview is so condescending and gross and kelis is so great and so fucking done in her responses and this is why you don’t get a Political Reporter from the WSJ to interview Kelis.

(via boundtothewater)

a) yes to all of this

b) kelis for president

(via abbyjean)

(via unimpressed2chainz)

Apr 13

Rham Emmanuel is waiting behind me in a concessions line, He has a nice sweater.

uzowuru:

there’s this resistance to honestly expressing myself, i’m constantly surrounded by people who don’t know how to handle the truth and are afraid of it each time it’s in their face. idek if i want to be honest with certain people anymore. do you really want to know what i feel or do you just want an excuse to speak? 

(via plaingold)

unimpressed2chainz:

rashida jones and kathryn perry worried about ppl taking selfies why don’t both of you develop interesting personalities and not worry about what i do on my macbook ok 

Apr 12

bemasculinenewyork:

Darnell38Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn
————————————
"Brooklyn, or Bed-Stuy to be exact, is an interesting space to explore and play with black masculinities, especially as a black queer man. When I am walking through my neighborhood I feel black and queer and unrestricted and seen and safe (except for my moments when I encounter police) and cool and connected to the black folk around me. In fact, the “street” is the perfect stage to perform and queer black masculinities. It is one of those spaces where black men and women expand the boundaries that are typically used to confine us. Gender is stretched and pulled and reconfigured by black folk in Bed-Stuy in some amazing ways—so much so that it is easy to confuse someone’s sexuality based on the ways they queer gender. I think that particular aspect is dope as hell and radically political. Straight black men and women are often confused as queer (not just in terms of sexual identity, but as a politics and expression of counter-normative ways of being) simply because of the ways they free themselves from gender boxes. How fly is that? How fly is it that queerness becomes the “thing” that one aspires to regardless of her/his/their sexual identity?For me, fashion is one of the means through which I express and mess with gender. Whether I am rocking some bohemian-esque shirts or street-fresh Tommie hoodie, vintage neckwear or handmade beaded bracelets, a pair of fly ass Jordans or head turning Alejandro Ingelmos, skinny jeans or an expertly tailored suit, I feel perfectly situated “in” my black skin. I feel cool as a black queer man in a black neighborhood where cool is constantly epitomized and re-imagined. I mean Bed-Stuy is so cool that white folk (and black & brown folk who once thought it uncool and unsafe to live in “Do or Die Bed-Stuy”) are moving here in droves. Go figure.Nonetheless, to be black gay and masculine does not mean that I need to be conventional; queerness frees me to move from the question of who I am as a black masculine body to the more liberatory notion that beyond the way my body is caught up in a system of White racial supremacist hetero-patriarchy, I am someBODY, a human body. In other words, I try to express who the fuck Darnell is as opposed to what my body signifies (and prompts) as a black male masculine-performing body in a hood that is literally policed and increasingly gentrified. So, yeah, I feel safe being me on the streets of Bed-Stuy. I feel safe being black queer and masculine…unless I am rocking a hoodie late at night and encounter the police. I guess that’s true of most black bodies inhabiting spaces where we are assailed by police. Shit, that is true of all black folk in America.”

bemasculinenewyork:

Darnell
38
Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn

————————————

"Brooklyn, or Bed-Stuy to be exact, is an interesting space to explore and play with black masculinities, especially as a black queer man. When I am walking through my neighborhood I feel black and queer and unrestricted and seen and safe (except for my moments when I encounter police) and cool and connected to the black folk around me. In fact, the “street” is the perfect stage to perform and queer black masculinities. It is one of those spaces where black men and women expand the boundaries that are typically used to confine us. 

Gender is stretched and pulled and reconfigured by black folk in Bed-Stuy in some amazing ways—so much so that it is easy to confuse someone’s sexuality based on the ways they queer gender. I think that particular aspect is dope as hell and radically political. Straight black men and women are often confused as queer (not just in terms of sexual identity, but as a politics and expression of counter-normative ways of being) simply because of the ways they free themselves from gender boxes. How fly is that? How fly is it that queerness becomes the “thing” that one aspires to regardless of her/his/their sexual identity?

For me, fashion is one of the means through which I express and mess with gender. Whether I am rocking some bohemian-esque shirts or street-fresh Tommie hoodie, vintage neckwear or handmade beaded bracelets, a pair of fly ass Jordans or head turning Alejandro Ingelmos, skinny jeans or an expertly tailored suit, I feel perfectly situated “in” my black skin. I feel cool as a black queer man in a black neighborhood where cool is constantly epitomized and re-imagined. I mean Bed-Stuy is so cool that white folk (and black & brown folk who once thought it uncool and unsafe to live in “Do or Die Bed-Stuy”) are moving here in droves. Go figure.

Nonetheless, to be black gay and masculine does not mean that I need to be conventional; queerness frees me to move from the question of who I am as a black masculine body to the more liberatory notion that beyond the way my body is caught up in a system of White racial supremacist hetero-patriarchy, I am someBODY, a human body. In other words, I try to express who the fuck Darnell is as opposed to what my body signifies (and prompts) as a black male masculine-performing body in a hood that is literally policed and increasingly gentrified. 

So, yeah, I feel safe being me on the streets of Bed-Stuy. I feel safe being black queer and masculine…unless I am rocking a hoodie late at night and encounter the police. I guess that’s true of most black bodies inhabiting spaces where we are assailed by police. Shit, that is true of all black folk in America.”

(via classic-akan-looks)

[video]