Happy New year Lovelies! 2012 was a cherry popping year! I moved out to LA for the winter to explore the "scene" and dodge snow and it is turning out to be a crazy fun adventure. I recently chatted with Ken Schneck host of "This Show is So Gay!" A super fun podcast that you can subscribe to on itunes so get on that and support our communite'.
I'm still driving around and I'm still black so check out the latest episode.
Hi. Here's a post I wrote for Desiree Burch's new blog, "The Briar Patch."
Has this happened to you? Ugh..tell me about it.
For a year or so, I worked at a famous, really expensive rental building in New York. We will call it New York by Barry. I worked as a leasing agent showing rich, primarily white people, apartments. Apartments that I could never afford and actually wouldn't even want to live in but I put on a good face and rented the shit out of them. I worked with a team of about 8 people, four and a half of us being people of color. The 1/2 was included whenever she was feeling sassy. Day after boring day, I would rattle off the same spiel, "All of our apartments have white oak flooring, stainless steel appliances, washers and dryers, and views that are unlike any other building in the city....blah, blah, blah." For a creative person, this was hell on earth. Most days I would try to entertain myself by mixing it up and throwing in random statements like, "This large walk in closet also opens to an alternate universe." Sometimes people laughed, foreigners just stared confused. One day while showing the standard 65+, curious couple from Connecticut shit got real.
We were staring out looking at the Seaport when out of the blue the husband turned to ask me if I had gone to college. His wife quickly turned around with baited breath to hear my reply. "Of course I went to college," I said. He seemed disappointed. The wife then asked me where I grew up. I said, "Like you, I'm from Connecticut." "Oh what high school did you go to?" Now here's the thing. I went to two high schools, one public, one private, but whenever I'm dealing with fucked up, racist ass white people I always say, "I attended Miss Porter's." Her mouth fell to the floor. For those of you that might not know, Jackie O. went to Porter's. It's the holy grail for WASP elitism. The wife's face turned beet red, "Oh la dee da!" "Excuse me?" I said. And then she opened her mouth and out came, "That explains why you don't have an accent."
An accent? Bitch! Are you crazy? is what I heard in my head but my mouth remained shut. All of my good manners and shock wouldn't allow me to speak I just stood there and stared. I finished the tour with a flat, "That's it." When I returned to my office I was enraged, hurt, and pissed beyond all comprehension. I was mostly mad at myself for not coming back with some witty, smart ass remark and tried to make up for it by telling my co-workers everything I should've said. The white ones were sympathetic, the black ones rolled their eyes. I wanted nothing but to find them on the street and cut a bitch. Racism is alive and well and I know we know this. There is no "post-racial" society happening, race and racism aren't going anywhere and this moment reminded me that no matter where you are, no matter how you present yourself, there will always be one asshole out there ready to make sure that you know, that they know, that you are still Black, Brown, Beige and beyond! So fuck them and have your comebacks ready.
For a while now I've been saying that I need to put videos up online. I've been hesitate, have procrastinated, and then suddenly I was like oh fuck it! So here goes...Driving While Black...me in my car talking shit. Here are episodes 1 & 2. Enjoy!
years I have had a love/hate relationship with my girls. I call them
my girls not my breasts and definitely not my tits. It all started after
college when they continued to grow and grow making me feel weighed
down and completely out of proportion. With every small pound gained or
lost it seemed that my boobs would hold on steady. As an active person, I
was constantly wearing sports bras to keep them flat and slightly
hidden but I suffered from back, shoulder, and neck pain.
spent a lot of time and a lot of money going to various department stores
to try to find the "right bra." For years, I wore the same size and even
the same brand because that’s how I am. If it works buy it in three
colors but still they never seemed quite right.
was introduced to Iris Lingerie through a friend who also shares the
big boob gene. She told me that Iris was her go to woman for the right
bra so I went down to see what was cooking in the secret sauce. I was
greeted by the lovable, cheery Iris Clarke. I told her that I was pretty
sure I was a 34DD and she eye balled the girls and called out to her
assistant to bring out the first bra for me to try. Much to my horror it
didn’t fit. The girls were not even close to fitting in this bra. What?
I was dumbfounded but I’ve been wearing this size forever. So we try
another one, then another one, and then another one and finally the
girls sat snugly in a much, much bigger size. I was
defeated, shocked, and mildly horrified. I mean I knew they were big but
DAYUM on my 135lbs frame that just seemed laughable. I decided to call
myself Butch Barbie but Iris was not horrified she thought it was great
and told me they were beautiful. I rolled my eyes. I dropped $100 bucks
on one black and one nude because seriously what else does a butch need?
walked out of the salon with the perkiest boobs ever. When
Susan Herr of Dapper Q and I got started talking about segments to produce, I knew that
this had to be the first one. Feeling comfortable in your body might
take a lifetime for some of us but at least you can start by getting the
girls fitted right.
When I was coming up my mom was the kind of parent that just didn't take any shit. Her motto was "one time." I'm going to tell you one time, ask you one time, and call you one time. If there was a second that you hesitated you better be prepared for the consequences. My mom had several tools in her arsenal of discipline one being the wooden spoon. The wooden spoon, that innocent tool designed to blend sauces, was disciplinary perfection. It was light, easy to hold, and always within reach. When you heard the drawer open with that sliding rustle you had better run and commit to running...for a long time.
The wooden spoon was used frequently in my house because between my older twin brothers and me, we were always up to no good. I remember one time I thought it would be "fun" to jump out of the bushes and spray the mailman with the hose. I mean, hello it was summer! He, however, did not find it as amusing and quickly reported me. It was too late to make a break for it so I had to just stand and take it. I'll never forget thinking I wished I had better sneakers because my Pro Keds made me slow. As I weaved and bobbed my way through my spanking I just couldn't understand why with all this practice jumping I could never master double dutch.
I don't have kids but if I did I know I wouldn't use a wooden spoon. I think I'll try my dad's technique, "Now Robin, can you tell me why you made such a poor choice for yourself and embarrassed your entire family?" "Um...well...i thought it was funny." That's right, it's still my go to answer.