Notes on Empowerment (Reissued)

I was sitting in a nail salon in Anywhere, America when I overheard two grown women discussing how their friend would look "slutty" if she chose a certain shade for her manicure. Question: When did the color, length, or design of our manicure (really, any application of cosmetics) become a symbol of how experienced a woman is with sex?

To begin with, answering these questions yields no reasonable answers, aside from squirmy revelations about how we view ourselves. I could sit in This Chair and prescribe what she Should do with Her face and Her body and Her career all day long, but come no closer to truth or happiness.

This conversation comes up a lot during styling consultations, but the script gets flipped. It takes a lot of vulnerability and trust working with clients, and it's usually quite early when someone will set some hard boundaries around what they "can" and "cannot" wear. Kelly was a NO to crop tops. Mark insisted on cutting an arm off every designer shirt I brought him. I was thrilled when Kelly ended up choosing the Tibi crop we shot her in most of the day and when Mark agreed to the Double RL shirts (both sleeves in-tact) not because that's what I wanted, but because they looked phenomenal and their confidence radiated through the iconic photos we captured from those very different shoots.

As a stylist, it's my greatest joy to see someone overcome a limitation they set for themselves - and nail it.

I'm still curious about the conversation from the salon. When I was traveling for my corporate job, I chose classic colors to avoid looking too youthful or unprofessional - in short, to improve my chances of being taken seriously. These days when I'm invited to the office, I feel comfortable balancing a nail that pops with color-blocked basics or pared-down neutrals. I wonder when those women said "slutty," were they using it interchangeably with other words that typically undermine women in the workplace?

I have so many questions, but instead remained silent as a very uncomfortable eavesdropper.

Ultimately, how we talk about others is reflective of how we feel about ourselves. Being able to sit with that discomfort, even get curious about it and try a different approach is the path to discovery. I have some very pretty pictures to prove it.

ORIGINAL WORK COPYRIGHTED TO HYPE GIRL MEDIA

Notes on SXSW (Reissued)

Remember the hipsters? Post-punk, possibly Emo, finally caught onto European trends, could find one in any U.S. startup within a matter of years?

Because I favored skinny jeans and sometimes dark-rimmed glasses in the early 2000's, I took a lot of flak.

Unlike the hippies with the war and Woodstock and their protests, the so-called hipsters had no unifying culture aside from their fashion, and maybe some music. Based on bullying from jocks & nerds alike, I understood there was a shared misconception that the democratization of fashion (as I called it) had some underlying exclusivity that was shaking things up.

Quite the opposite, as time has now shown street style, eponymous influencers, and slow fashion explode across the internet, transforming the ways we live and dress. Covid might have slowed us down, but the ideas kept cooking, and now that tourism and festivals are back in business, fashion is fun again. 2023 was the year I had my first official SXSW experience, in the most unlikely way - as an expat local parading as a tourist. It's long been my favorite pastime to get out of a rut by hopping in my car or a plane to explore places unknown, but there is no music festival like the multi-national extravaganza that overtakes the Music Capitol of the World in the Heart of Texas, and what a trip, what a treat.

Post-pandemic, SX felt more like it did over a decade ago, when you knew the right people at your favorite places, and could get up close to the stage breathing and feeling the music. It's never the same experience. I saw Andrew Cashen's band twice, leaving with a yellow rose and a blissful haze. Lindsey Mackin was smackin' her lips driving the boys wild at Hotel Vegas with Annabelle Chairlegs. KMFA hosted the most intimate live recording of Caramelo Haze that felt like stepping into radio royalty. Bose took an empty lot on the East Side and turned up Coachella vibes, where Genesis Owusu shook like Prince - I couldn't take my eyes off him.

Grabbed a pedi to the 13th Floor where P*ssy Gillette puts rock-hard b*tch in your punk is alive and well, thank you. Eats at Comedor, land of artful Mexican where you never know who you'll meet in the moody alcoves. And Moody Bank$ WAS there, giving a private performance for the opening of woman-owned & operated Nativas Studios. Sleep, wash, repeat. Brunch with a dear friend at old faithful Aba, get invited to the Spin Pool Party (it's SX, it's magic), wander over to SX San Jose (anyone can, and should!), stumble upon Blondshell, my new obsession for Indie-Emo rocker chick ballads. The Zombies are releasing a new album, and SX-goers got a preview of old & new at Stubb’s. Pinch me.

Britt Daniel from Spoon hops on stage to duet with t*ts-out Sabrina Ellis during A Giant Dog's set at Continental Club... another day in Austin, or is it? Still decked out in PatBo, the Oracle Sisters are singing me swinging lullabies. Switch gears, Caleb de Casper swoons with sparks flying (I cannot get that hook out of my head - you should know the one). I couldn't make it to Bun B but I did see Blackillac pop off the stage with fly beats and quips taking me back to hip hop's Golden Age.

Never too full for dessert, finished with the girls at Justine's.

Was it all a dream? Only the best kind, and my camera don't lie. More important is the singing in my soul seeing this magnificent evolution go beyond fashion, even beyond music, to create, connect, to rebuild community we all so desperately need.

Question is - where will it take us next?

ORIGINAL WORK COPYRIGHTED TO HYPE GIRL MEDIA

"Kid, you’ll move mountains!”

-Dr. Seuss