What: Upwardly mobile urbanites conflicted by the challenges of keepin’ it real
Habitat: Conference rooms, ‘hoods
Pet peeves: Hackneyed Diddy-esque excess
I had to laugh at this piece in Radar Magazine. Every issue they feature a new “species” and this month it’s the Neo Buppie. According to writer Brian Marsh,
Jazmin & Neville
New York’s young black urban professionals are definitely upping their game. Rejecting the ghettoizing BET stereotype of the bling-flossing, Cristal-drinking playa, a subtler breed of brothers (and sisters) are deftly navigating their way between outer-borough neighborhoods like Bed-Stuy and Fort Greene and the minimalist conference rooms of Mahattan’s creative professions. Meet the Neo-Buppies. More Kanye than Ghostface Killah, they combine pedigreed educations, lefty politics and ‘hood savvy to infiltrate mainstream ad agencies and publicity firms but still go out of their way to retain the respect of the gully crowd back on the old block. Pulling off their tricky style – a cake-and-eat-it-too mélange of young Hollywood labels, crossover brands, and slyly understated ghetto flourishes – isn’t easy (you try keeping 4,000 fashion codifiers straight!), but it’s paying off. With Barack Obama poised to become America’s new baller-in-chief, dapper rapper-turned-actor Common dropping a new CD, and clean-cut crooner John Legend embarking on a new tour, this brownstone-dwelling, socially conscious crew is taking the nation by storm.
Funny and eerily accurate, save the repeated references to “ghetto” which I find annoying and simple. Not to mention how Marsh gets too hyphy with the hyphen. Whatever. Get your Neo-Bup on by copying Jazmin’s and Neville’s steeze. Continue reading
Chris Rock came back on the scene last weekend with his HBO standup special Kill The Messenger. The special featured footage spliced from Rock’s performances in Johannesburg, London and Harlem. I’ve heard mixed reviews, but I thought it was hilarious. I watched the show over a friend’s crib with a group of folks and they thought it was a riot as well.
As usual, Rock touched on lots of current events, like the election and gas prices, as well as racial issues. He spent a good amount of time talking about interracial dating. It was all funny, as he started out talking about how a Black man would date ANY white woman, even Rosie O’Donnell who is a lesbian and a biggun. Predictably, Rock went on about how Black women hate interracial dating and really hate seeing Black men “step out” on the sisters. Sounded like the same old joke until Rock “revealed” the real reason Black women hate interracial dating: Because Black women are not attracted to white men. Make that average white men. According to Rock, we’ll go for Brad Pitt or Matthew McConaughey, but we won’t think twice about George from Seinfeld. Basically, as far as Black women are concerned, pickings are slim among white guys. Continue reading
There is a method to the madness
-The Tao of Diddy™
You lettin' these fools handle my showcase?
The four remaining hopefuls learn that they’ll be spending their first day at Bad Boy soon and being as such, they need to preserve their sexy. Mr. Combs doesn’t like ugly people around him at Bad Boy, so you know, keep it tight. The four get sent to a salon to get styled, shaved and waxed. Poprah even lets them handle that upper lip hair. Go on girl. Next, they all get to cop new gear. Stefanie and Suzanne are sent to H&M (O Really Puff?), Poprah gets to roll dolo to Lane Bryant (Well, I guess so) and Mike heads to the Sean John store (seems like he got the best deal).
The new mission is to put together a showcase for Janelle Monae (who is the hotness). The show really hammers home the point that a showcase is super important to an artist’s success. It can make or break him/her. Knowing the gravity of the situation, we know somebody’s going to fall HOARD. Kim steps out ahead as the leader because, according to her, she’s done that before.
The thing that stops people from being successful most of the time is their egos; how they gonna look to they friends or they feel something is beneath them. You know I started out I would go clean toilets at a Mexican restaurant and I would be a bus boy. At the end of the day, getting the job done and working hard is extremely important.
– The Tao of Diddy™
The Four hook up with Diddy’s current assistants to get the real on what they need to do today: Whatever Diddy Wants! This is more complicated than you think because Diddy truly expects each person to be in several places at once. Tasks pile on to each one and before they can even get started on one, BOOM, there’s another. Continue reading
Give it up.
I’m sitting in class right now behind TWO grown men with ponytails to the middle of their backs, yet they’re clearly balding in the front. One of them is more bald than the other; he has that bald spot in the center of the back of his head.
I just do not know why you insist on holding on to that hair. If you had a heart, you’d snip that thang and donate it to Locks for Love! I guess I just do not understand what it’s like for a man to lose their hair. It seems like Black men have a better time of it, because they’ll go Mr. Clean bald and still look cool. Think Shaft or Michael Jordan. White dudes go shiny-head bald and they’re suspect Neo-Nazis! This is not to say that Black men do not offend. I’ve seen cat daddies in those big ass zoot suits and greasy, slicked back ponytails.
I know that it’s hard sometimes to see yourself for what you really are. Look at Donald Trump. He has the most laughed at comb-over in the world but he’s still holding on to those 6 hairs. John McCain must have spent hours getting ready for the debate last week, making sure those bald spots were covered just right. The ponytail, though, just reeks of desperation.
So please, cut that shit off or kill yourself.
Do you remember those 90min Maxell blank tapes? The ones in the red wrapper? They were .99cents I think. Yo, those were so necessary. I remember buying them in multiples. We used them for recording songs off of the radio or recording tapes that someone else had. The original “burning” or “ripping”. (Aside: Did you ever try to record something on a tape and had one of those radios that recorded the outside noise too? So if anyone came into your room talking, their voice would be all on the tape, over your songs? That was wack, man. End Aside)
I remember one time, circa 1995, my girl Carmelita and I both had those 90min tapes filled with ONE SONG. Over and over, we looped up ONE SONG. That’s an hour and a half, yo! Our other friends thought we were crazy. “That song again!?” LOL I don’t know what we were thinking. Still, though… to this very day I freaking love this jam. Subway, take ’em back to Maxell tapes –
Ahhh! Just listening to it and seeing the video – for a second I was 13 again. To be honest, I just watched that youtube video 2.5 times already. WHERE ARE THOSE GUYS?!
Oh, and honorable mention to the collabo between Subway and 702 with “This Little Game We Play”.
I just thought this was too cute!
No, I’m not talking about that lame line brothers use to try and get you naked (Shout out to Little Brother). The kind of massage I’m talking about can really help a sister out when she’s most in need: During her period.
When I was in college, I went through a period of severe menstrual symptoms. I would have long, heavy periods with cramps, chills/sweats, vomitting, headaches, the whole nine. I was in bad shape. Luckily the worst of the symptoms would only last the first two days, with day one being the most severe. During that time, I started paying more attention to the way my body was feeling, kind of isolating the areas of pain. Most of those places are expected to hurt: lower back, tender breasts, lower abdomen. One place that felt odd was the bottom of my feet. I started to think that maybe there was some pressure point in my foot that was “connected” to my uterus. Since I couldn’t massage my uterus, maybe I could try my foot. BINGO! While I wasn’t able to get complete relief, (probably because I didn’t really know where to touch), I did start to feel something was letting up.
Reflexology is a strange holistic “medicine”, mostly because no one knows how it really works. Continue reading
Let me tell you that I love to debate. Ever since I was introduced to the concept of debate, in middle school I think, I was hooked. It’s arguing for smart people! I liked the structure one had to follow because it gave the debate control and focus. When I got into philosophy in college, my love for debate grew. We had to argue using logic and deductive reasoning. You were banned from retreating to comfortable and familiar “arguments” based in religion, for example. Now that I’m in law school, I’m basically a professional debater! Sweet! Yep, I like debating.
Watching debates, however… eh, not so much. Very rarely has a debate been that interesting to me from the audience point of view. Tonight’s Presidential Candidate Debate promises to be different, however. I want to watch because I really want to hear what these guys have to say about their plans, ideas and vision for the next four years. I want to watch their body language. I want to see how they react to one another, the crowd and the moderator. I want to hear the tone of their voices as they respond. And, no secret, I want Barack Obama to come out on top.
What I do not want, though, is to be stuck with a bunch of idiots who think this is a sporting event. Folks are gathering all over the country for “debate watch parties”. Some are impromptu and informal, others are listed right on the Obama for President website. Small home gatherings to big rented out rooms.
I am going to a debate watch get together at someone’s crib. A handful of peeps are just going to snack, drink and take in the candidates. That’s about all I can take. Why? Because I cannot stand to hear random Joe Schmoe make political commentary while I’m trying to listen. I also don’t want to chance being in the room with McCain supporters. I could vomit. What about when I want to comment. The slight chance that someone might “Shhhh” me could result in Philadelphia’s 483rd murder (not really, but you know).
I just want to enjoy this debate like I enjoyed my debates of the past. I want to LEARN something tonight. I don’t want to be arrested for murder.
By the way, if you’re on Twitter like I am, you can Hack the Debate! CurrentTV will be broadcasting the debate (like everyone else, so you have to watch since the only other thing on will be Rachel Ray and her annoying giggle) and will be showing Twitter messages across the screen. Check it out if you Tweet!