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owlmylove · 3 years

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I love your fashion sense and obviously it's not something you deal with yourself but I was wondering what you would suggest for someone who is pretty fat to kind of clean up their look because I mostly wear like graphic tees and like my nicest trousers are a pair of plain boot cut jeans lmao

Thank you so much for your kind words darling!! But, before you get too entrenched in the quicksand of comparison, I actually have dealt with that precise scenario. Multiple times to be honest, and while I’m fortunate enough to be able to find fitted clothes more easily than a few of my friends, I’m still bigger than most of them and have always been very aware of that growing up. There have been periods of my life (including right now tbh, #quar) where the function and comfort of my clothes has become overshadowed by the frustration and low-level embarrassment they inspire

That doesn’t mean the clothing is bad, or I was silly to wear it previously. It just means I’m changing, and so are my tastes. You can love your graphic tees and still want to try fancier pants on for size, and that’s all okay! Don’t let hyper-consumptive disposable culture try to guilt you into despising anything you may have once enjoyed, or been comforted by. Like foods, there’s no such thing as good or bad clothing. It’s just finding the clothes that fill your current needs and make you feel as good as you deserve.

BUT you came for fashion advice and fashion advice you shall HAVE babe. for cinematic purposes, please picture the following advice as a voiceover to our dressing room montage scene as i throw hangers over the door & applaud every time you do a lil catwalk spin

1. Fuck trends. They’re bullshit!! Unless you sincerely like the look of something and feel good in it, don’t fall into the trap of needing to wear the newest spring/summer anything. There’s nothing wrong with trying out a new style, but always remember the clothes’ job is to fit you; you don’t need to fit the clothes. If something doesn’t feel comfortable, or flattering, or right, that’s a failing on behalf of the clothing (and, most often, the designers’ limited understanding of the human body) and never on you.

2. Try stuff! I highly recommend trying on absolutely anything you have the faintest interest in*, trends included. Also: things you never in a million years would’ve tried on, but a friend/partner/random telepath recommended for you. It can be frustrating when things don’t work out, but that just teaches you something about what does and doesn’t work for you. Don’t think of your fashion sense as a pass/fail test, but a language you’re gaining fluency in. Learning what doesn’t work for your body can be as helpful as what does.

*Sidenote: This can be tricky in quarantine, but try online stores with free shipping/returns, and/or local stores that you can breeze through for returns. At-home try-ons also allows you to compare what you already have & see how new pieces could be incorporated into your wardrobe.

3. Learn your type. I hate categories of any kind but fuck me, my body type actually does serve as a helpful guideline for what does and doesn’t work on me. For instance: I’ve been wearing exclusively high waistbands for the last, oh, 6 years, bc I wanted to contain my lovely soft stomach and delineate my waist. But this actually just cuts me in half like a magician’s assistant, and I counterintuitively look better in one-piece swimsuits and un-tucked (but fitted!!) shirts. Hence: learn your body type, research what works for your body type, and try some of what they recommend.

3.1. Break the rules. Anarchism baby!!! Everyone knows that learning the rules is the first step to breaking them. Research what science says is supposed to look good, but also trust your intuition on what you feel good in. Datasets can’t allow for individual tastes, and that’s where real fashion comes from (rather than just algorithmic minimalist capsule wardrobes)

4. Look for patterns. Obviiiiiiiously not just in prints (though I’m weak for stripes and polka dots, everyone around me is well aware) but in the cut, drape, and construction of what you love. Breaking down the elements of what brings you joy helps you recognize more of it out in the wild. But think about function too! What do you like and dislike about the fit of your shirts? Do you like the flair of boot cut jeans? Hate their length? Which elements of construction would you like to avoid in the future, and which would you like to see more of?

5. Find inspiration. If you don’t already have a sense of what you do and don’t want to add to your wardrobe, try giving Pinterest and/or moodboards a whirl. Look to people whose style you admire (and try Instagram [but avoid the identical influencer mill], Pinterest, cool Etsy boutique owners, etc). Compare their builds as an artist might, focusing not on comparative aesthetics but form. Do they use certain waistlines that would complement yours? What about colors? Finding someone with your exact body type & coloring can be extremely difficult depending your race and size, but you may be able to find influences who can guid you in one regard but not the other. Let them help you learn what you love without limiting you to just one style.

6. Go (bargain) hunting. I maintain some things are worth spending money on — facial moisturizer, a tailored white button down, and well-fitted pants to be precise — but I almost exclusively shop clearance racks. If you’re still in the process of figuring out what you do and don’t like, there is something to be said for starting with inexpensive brands as training wheels. Discount stores like Marshalls can yield a lot of good stuff, while Etsy, resale platforms, and thrift stores can do the same for relatively low prices (and yield some p. unique pieces.) Once you know the silhouette, colors, and cuts you enjoy, that’s when I recommend investing in a $100 pair of jeans that you know will serve you for years.

Finally: Once you have a collection of things you love, experiment with them! Try them on in different combinations, add a hat, try different earrings, etc. etc. As you settle into your new wardrobe, new outfit formulas will emerge that you know you can rely on in the rushing, early mornings without feeling stressed by the question “what do I wear???” (honestly, the biggest unsung benefit of a good wardrobe is just the decrease in anxiety)

Also: I recommend looking for pieces you love first and foremost, rather than entering the fray with a shopping list of “gray blazer, navy blazer, white shirt, black shirt,” etc. Not to say I don’t own each of those basics (which are good to have!) but those kinds of Pinterest minimalist capsules work best for instant-professionalism sans personality. If that’s you need, go for it! But if you’re excited to develop your sense of style, give yourself the time and space to discover what brings you joy. Learning your tastes should be an ongoing experiment throughout life. Don’t let previous ensembles dictate future purchases (unless they’re inspiring them!!)

And, for what it’s worth, I actually still have a bunch of the graphic tees I was once so embarrassed of wearing when I was younger. And for what? They were comfortable, convenient, and expressed what I was passionate about at the time. The ones I really loved, even if I no longer fit into, still make me so happy as records of the person I was. I think taste and selves grows outward, like the rings of a tree, and there’s nothing wrong with remembering your roots c:

Excessive tree pun alert, and sorry for being sappy, but I hope this rambling love letter to style could help! I’m sending you all the fairy godmother energy I am capable of from afar darling<333

#fashion #style #Anonymous

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letsbenditlikebennett · 4 years

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Encounters of the Strange Kind || Ariana & Frank

TIMING: Before the last full moon during the nightmares POTW PARTIES: @frankmulloy & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: Ariana goes to watch a soccer match and bug her favorite bartender, Frank. Some nightmares brought to life make for a strange afternoon.

It wasn’t often lately that Ariana found herself with a free afternoon and as much had been preferred. Just when she felt like she was finally beginning to move forward again, Winn had to go and die on her, too. If she let herself sit in all those feelings for too long, she was almost certain she wouldn’t be able to find it in her to get up again. Moving was easier. At least that’s what she had kept telling herself, but now the erratic weather meant soccer practice was cancelled which means she wouldn’t spend the rest of her day coaching. She was far ahead on all of her projects for school and she didn’t want to bother Blanche or Grace yet again. The weather also meant a run with her dog was out of the question so she opted to drink beer and watch some soccer matches at Perfect Pint. It wasn’t the world’s best distraction, but bugging the bartender had always proven to be a good time. While the USWNT wasn’t playing, she threw on the Rapinoe jersey Athena had gotten her anyway. Something about channeling Rapinoe had always left her feeling a little tougher. Which was saying a lot because most days, she considered herself to be pretty badass.

Considering it was a weekday afternoon, Ariana found the bar wasn’t overly crowded, so she grabbed a seat in front of the women’s Olympique Lyons team’s match. While they weren’t her team, she remembered Kaden was a Lyons fan. It gave her some sort of deeper attachment to the game which meant it’d be more likely to hold her attention. She waved at Frank as she settled into her seat and gave him a wide smile. Confidence was key to no one questioning her fake ID. “How are you doing today,” she asked brightly before adding, “I’ll take a Guinness when you get a chance.” She hadn’t liked it at first, but it grew on her. She admittedly just said the first thing she looked at the first time she came here and just kept going with it.

Frank had always considered Perfect Pint a lesser form of Soul. Less sticky, less sleazy, less were the chance of someone kicking someone else’s teeth in—or maybe that was just his shift. Maybe in his absence the patrons that gathered at the latter establishment were perfectly pleasant, either way, the Irish bar was a welcomed breath of civility before the shit-storm the evening would no doubt bring. The presence of another gancanagh added to the ease of simply being as the pub owner exercised a control over his ability that even after all these years Frank had never fully mastered. His pheromones fluctuated to a rhythm of its own make, a song Frank was not privy to and struggled still to understand. But the shadow of a smile that threatened to break his mask of perpetual indifference came at the hands of one that, legally, shouldn’t even be allowed at the bar. They both knew this— that no matter what her ID said, Ariana was not 21, not the fact that he silently enjoyed her company. No drink was strong enough to make him admit anything so personal. But more than that, if he admitted it, then it must be true, and if that was true then so was the very real possibility that she was only hanging around him because of the reason that most people were. The same reason he slid people their drinks across the bar, why he was always so generous with his distance, why he didn’t smile when he turned to meet Ariana but rather regarded that she was there—of course she was wearing a fucking Rapinoe jersey—another body to warm the bar’s seat.

“Do you have an ID for that Guinness?” Frank said, with perhaps a little too much enjoyment, after the glass was already in his hand. “I get the pub is Irish but you know that American laws still apply right?”

Something about the chatter around the bar was much more comforting than the near silence of her apartment. Ariana was glad this place was close to her new apartment and that her fake ID never seemed to be extensively questioned even though it seemed fairly obvious Frank knew she wasn’t 21 yet. Plus, they always played the soccer matches so it always gave her something engaging to do even if she didn’t have someone joining her. As Frank asked for her ID, she pouted and dramatically pulled her wallet out of one of the pockets in her cargo pants. “You know, you keep not remembering me and my very iconic blue hair, I’m gonna stop tipping… okay, that’s a lie,” she responded with a small laugh as she slid her ID across to him. She gave him a pointed look as she waited for him to set her beer down. The urge to do a triumph fist pump was resisted. Instead, she motioned her glass up in a cheers motion and took a sip before commenting, “You never told me how you were doing. You haven’t seen any weird fish lately, have you?” She’d seen a few of them floating around along with some other strange things. Still felt like a good idea to check in and make sure everyone was staying safe amidst the crazy that was White Crest.

The threat of no tip was met with a slight upward lean to the corner of Frank’s mouth, which was more of a smile than most could say they’ve ever received from the infamously stoic bartender. The Guinness had already slid across the bar’s top to her awaiting hand before she had even pulled the ID out; the presence of the little card vaguely acknowledged though not such attention was paid to its content. “Fine,” he said, and he was fine, and was happy to leave it at fine, but of course, Ariana had a talent for catching his attention when he least expected it. Like, say, a remark about weird fishes. “This whole fucking town is weird.” Frank would be remiss to say that the amount of fog that blanketed the town was a common occurrence, not to mention the pair of bright glowing lights that peered eerily behind them. Logically, he’d sooner owe it to a pair of headlights, than anything stranger, which was rich coming from a guy with giant wings sticking out of his back. Logically, he also knew that no vehicle or trunk had lights that large, that moved so silently, seamlessly-- there was nothing mechanical about these lights. “Why? What have you seen?” A pause. The temptation was to close the distance between them, but alas (at least this time) habit dug down its heel, and so did Frank. “What have you been up to kid?”

Of course he hadn’t actually bothered to look at her ID which made Ariana laugh a bit. While Frank was never the overly talkative type, she did enjoy his mostly quiet company. It gave her something else to focus on when the game wasn’t enough to keep her thoughts from drifting somewhere darker. He was a bit of mystery though and fine almost never meant fine. She knew better than anyone because she’d put that brave face on every day for the kids and a little bit for herself. “I hate that word,” she stated plainly, “90% of the time it’s bullshit, but I’ll give you that one.” At least his response to the question about fish led her to believe he wasn’t completely clueless to the ways of this town. That made it easier for him to stay safe. “You know, you’re not wrong,” she agreed, “Some of it is good weird though, like the dog toys falling from the sky. My dog had a field day with that one. Still, probably a good idea to avoid the giant floating fish if you can.” For a moment, she could almost detect a hint of concern in his voice though he still kept his distance. She didn’t want to alarm him, so she shrugged and answered, “Honestly, I’ve seen a lot, but more recently it’s been the floating fish. Thankfully, they seem to mostly just kind of float by if you don’t bother them. I may be tough, but I’m not exactly eager to see if I can take on an oversized flying fish.” The answer to his next question was decidedly nothing good outside of school and work. Between ghost hunting, avoiding sleep, and her plans to turn Ace into a werewolf like her, she was decidedly not staying out of trouble. Not even a little bit. “Oh, you know-- work, class, typical young we-- people things. I opened up an Etsy shop, so if you need any custom woodwork or repairs, I’m your girl,” she responded hoping her answer sufficed even if she definitely left big bits of the truth out. She shifted in her seat slightly and a puzzled look crossed her face as all the TV screens in the bar went fuzzy. That was weird. It was a perfectly sunny day out so she couldn’t think of any good reason for the television picture to just go out.

For reasons too complicated, and probably too depressing, to dissect without the supervision of his therapist, Frank had somehow convinced himself of being able to care for little else beyond that which directly affected him. Now Frank was a great many things but never the uncaring type, and while he was a talented wordsmith (when he had the energy to be) he was, as was the nature of his species, a poor liar. Even to himself. So when “fine” was met with a reaction that was far from it, his heart—he was frequently surprised to learn, or be reminded, of its existence—reared its head, and fixed a tender gaze on the younger girl. He said nothing however, feeling that it was the wrong time to press, but he would remember the minor outburst, and keep it close to heart. While Frank himself was still challenged with admitting to the existence of the strange and unnatural, despite himself being one of those strange and unnatural things, to have Ariana confess to it so readily, and so casually at that, made it concrete, and real. No, the lights were not in fact a truck in the foggy distance, it was indeed a giant floating fish. That was normal now. He was part of that normal. So what happened then when a normal person has spent his entire life believing he was not? How does he come to terms with that? The answer: he doesn’t. He instead focused his attention on anything else, on anyone else. “Right, so that sounded decidedly unconvincing. Your fake ID is more convincing than…whatever that was.” He waited for a characteristically snappy response, but when she looked up at him—no, past him, her brows knitted together at whatever the TV was showing. “What are you…?” Nothing, the TV was showing nothing, and yet she seemed entranced, or at least concerned enough to be curious. This made him concerned, and by the way the few patrons that were in the bar were whispering and mumbling to themselves and each other, it was going around.

“Jesus H,” the dish rag draped over his shoulder, Frank sought for the remote and tried to turn it off, but the battery was either flat or the TV refused to obey. Logic supported the former, and logic made him reach up to press the button on the monitor itself. That was when water started leaking from the screen. Logic offered no sound explanation for that. Somewhere within the bar came a yelp as the water from one of the leaking TVs (was he seriously admitting to that?) short-circuited the juke box. No, Frank thought decidedly, it had been two weeks since he last fed and he was too fucking tired for this shit. “Yeah, I’m not cleaning that shit up.” He tossed the towel aside, stuck his head into the kitchen and announced his early finish. “No offence but I don’t think your game is playing kid,” he said and ducked out from behind the bar. Something wasn’t right, and frankly he felt no great desire to stick around, and owed to some strange endearment he’s found in Ariana, he didn’t want her to stick around either. “I’m heading out. Finish your Guinness. Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

Normally, she would have been quick to comment on the fake ID remark. Ariana wasn’t sure just how serious he was, because would he really be serving her if he thought her ID was fake? Maybe he just didn’t give a crap which actually checked out to a degree. The water leaking from the TVs was far more pressing though. She was pretty sure electronics and water didn’t mix, so she took a step back. “TVs,” she answered as she pointed upward. How were they even doing that? She doubted there was any satisfying answer, but slowly scooted away from any electronics. After all she’d been through, she wasn’t about to go out by electrocution of all things. She took a big gulp from her glass of beer because frankly it was warranted with the current level of insanity. So much for having a nice escape from White Crest reality. It hadn’t been all that surprise to see Frank ditch the bar. She laughed a bit and commented, “I don’t blame you. Probably dangerous back there right now anyway.” The jukebox seemed to agree with her so she was glad he was seemingly away from any spots that may cause electrical shock.

While the TV situation was still concerning, Ariana figured she didn’t have much of a reason to stick around with both the game off and Frank gone. Beer alone wasn’t going to be enough to distract her from the whirlwind of emotions she currently didn’t feel like acknowledging. His offer to walk her home was unexpected though. She looked up to him and said, “Yeah, thanks, I’d appreciate that even if I am probably a lot tougher than you think I am.” She jokingly sized him up, but agreed her beer was worth finishing. “For sure gonna finish this bad boy. Can’t be out here wasting a perfectly good beer!” She was quick to polish off her beer. She refrained from burping as she set the glass down because as Celeste taught her growing up, it wasn’t proper table manners. Not that she truly understood why table manners were a thing humans cared about, but for the sake of blending in, she did her best to follow some sort of norm. “So we adding bodyguard to your business card now,” she joked as they left the now nightmarish scene behind. Thankfully, everyone else had also been quick to bolt, so she wasn’t too concerned for their safety. Every so often, a creepy face would flash on the screen and she muttered, “Wow, I fucking hate that.” She pointed down the block and said, “I live this way, not too far away and surprisingly decent rent. Not sure if you know the area well or not, but it really is a steal.”

“I am sure that you are.” Frank’s lips twitched as a genesis of a smile began to take shape across his mouth, one that came very close to becoming fully formed, until he too saw the ghostly face that haunted the TV screens. Fuck. That. Many of the pub’s patrons shared the same sentiment and a steady stream of people trickled out behind them, and for the first time (and hopefully the last) Frank was glad that he had the evening shift at Soul that day. A snort escaped his guard, harsh and full, a gleam of something mirthful reflected in his eyes as he turned them toward Ariana. “Depends on how much you’re willing to pay me,” he said and was only half joking. Bartending doesn’t pay a great deal, and there were many artefacts in his piece of crap apartment, including the piece of crap apartment itself, that would attest to this. The Bend wasn’t exactly known for its New England style living, but then again, neither was Frank.

“It’s nice.” He mused, quietly observing the shops that lined the streets and the plants and bushes that trimmed the sidewalks. Frank spied what looked like a stray dog toy tangled in the leaves of one of the passing bushes. Raining dog toys. That was normal too. Another thing he had to come to terms with getting used to. Not the fact that that particular thing happened, but the possibility of something similar, and equally strange and outlandish happening again. “I never really took the time to take in the streets. I mostly just come in for work, and then go to Soul and then go home. But this street, this place, I can see you living in it.” In the same weird way that you can somehow just sense that someone does not belong in a certain place, you can also sense when someone else belonged exactly where they were-- the latter was usually a lot more pleasant to observe. Walking next to Ariana, in the street she lived, Frank came to the conclusion that she looked like she was exactly where she needed to be; a place bustling with life, and events, and possibilities...even if it was a little strange. “It’s nice.”

Ariana noted the almost smile that Frank made though she didn’t comment on it. He was seemingly gruff, but she was pretty sure he enjoyed her company. Well, at least more so than the rest of the bar’s patrons. Which was fair, she was way cooler and far more adorable. As they walked, she laughed a bit at the mention of paying him. “Thankfully, I don’t need my own bodyguard, not that I could afford one. As it turns out, coaching kids’ soccer a few times a week doesn’t pay enough for a glamorous lifestyle. Not that I want one, but building a cabin one day would still be nice. If my woodworking really takes off, I may have a job for you.” They rounded a corner and something about the sky felt off. She ignored it and added, “I should warn, I’m good at finding trouble.” To be fair to herself, trouble often found her based on her species alone, but she definitely had a knack for following her nose right into some sort of White Crest nonsense.

It surprised Ariana that Frank hadn’t done much exploring the streets yet. While the more populated parts of town weren’t necessarily her thing, she did know the woods like the back of her hand. Or paw, depending on the day of the month. “Yeah, there’s a lot of good shops and restaurants down here. It’s a good area, I prefer the woods, but it’s nice living across the hall from one of my best friends. So thanks.” She was almost wistful for that cabin in the woods she was supposed to build with Celeste one day. Hell, she even missed the place she helped Ulfric build, but there was a sense of pride that came with having a place of her own. Plus, hiking with her school projects that were often bigger than her was a bit much. She’d been smiling softly when a strange smell hit her nose. She paused in the middle of the sidewalk and looked in the direction her nose was picking up a more animalistic smell. Before it could even register fully in her mind, a raging moose was charging them. “Shit,” she yelled out and pushed Frank out of the way as she barely dodged getting impaled by a fucking antler. “What the fuck,” she grumbled as she regained her balance and stared the moose down, letting out a low growl.

“Me too.” Frank’s smile hiked a little higher, and there was something knowing about it, like sharing in a secret that they both had, even if it was from each other. Though he did not necessarily indulge in the more cursed aspects of his existence, he always found that it was better to take it with good humour lest he drowns himself in self-pity; the latter being a significantly worse reality.

Frank spent the rest of their walk quietly observing the younger girl, his eyes squinted in a mixture of easy amusement and sharp curiosity. She spoke, a lot, and he listened, filing away pieces of information that he found useful or interesting: her relationship with the woods, her best friend, woodwork, how the three worked together to form an idyllic picture of the life Ariana wanted for herself. The pieces of information that went untold, fueled by a detailed history, alive and well as evidence in how she spoke. It made him wistful for a future that he never imagined for himself (he never tried to), and wanted dearly for her to have—her sudden stop elicited the same reaction in him, though it was obvious that she was sensing something that he wasn’t. Something he couldn’t. He heard the rumbling of hooves on pavement before he saw it, and even then he saw very little as a force, and a very impressive one at that, pushed him out of harm’s way, very nearly knocking him off his feet were it not for the swift sweep of his wings slowing gravity just enough for him to recover his balance—the product of instinct rather than any great skill. And then a low growl, unmistakably animal, and too near for comfort. First the ghost child TV, then the moose, now if he was about to get mauled by a fucking wolf Frank was going to lose his shit. Alas, there was just Ariana, and a very angry moose carving its way through the street before disappearing around the corner. No wolves to be seen…and yet. “Ariana, are you okay?” Concern coloured his words and made his touch more gentle as he reached out to examine her for any obvious injury. “Are you hurt?” And then finally, inevitably, “only in this fucking town.”

As she reoriented herself she swore she saw a flicker of wings on Frank. Ariana blinked slowly a few times and realized it must have been a trick of the light. Not that wings would be totally off base in this town, but the rest of their surroundings still felt surreal enough that she wrote it off. There was still a small lingering suspicion that maybe Frank wasn’t quite so human either. She’d have to observe him more carefully. She brushed herself off and answered, “Yeah, I’m fine. More startled than anything.” The moose kept running and rounded a corner. Maybe she should have been more concerned, but she simply didn’t have the energy to chase a moose right now. Not in this form. She figured she could shoot Kaden a text and let animal control deal with the seemingly pissed off moose. She stood still for a moment as he looked her over and kept her demeanor calm despite the internal ‘what the fuck just happened’ vibes she had going on. “I’m not hurt. Did only narrowly dodge becoming a moose kebab, but it be like that I guess,” she said with a slight laugh. “Yeah, that was super on brand for White Crest, but hey, neither of us turned into moose-pops today, so I’ll call it a win.” She was dying to ask about the wings, but she still wasn’t entirely sure of what she saw, so she’d file that one away for later. “To be safe, let’s keep moving in case he decides to come back for round 2.” She paused briefly as she started leading the way to her apartment before she finally caved and noted, “So… you were pretty good at catching your balance there.”

Ariana’s note was like a plunged blade, spearing through the glamour that he has tried so hard to maintain. Did it fall? Did she see? She couldn’t have. Frank’s wings were not little plastic accessories that you found hanging off some rack at some halloween store. They were huge, and not something that usually elicited such a casual response...not that he’s had many experiences to draw from. Yet at her remark, he prompted his face to smooth over any evidence of emotion, trying his best to manufacture the closest imitation to nonchalance. “Oh yeah? Thanks kid,” he said before allowing an edge of gentle humor pushed into the timber of his voice, “I mean I’d be a pretty shoddy bodyguard if I’m tripping over my own damn feet.” This made sense--even if Frank’s history of fighting recorded more losses than wins. “Maybe you should consider getting into the bodyguard business. That’s some arm you’ve got.” Needless to say, had it not been for Ariana’s quick reaction, his day would have gone in a very different, most likely more painful, direction. The reminder beckoned curiosity’s head to surface through the crack’s of his apathy, and despite the strangeness of the TV, the moose, he could not erase from his memory the distinct sound of a dog’s growl.

Curiosity also prompted him to vocalise his next words, but Frank was careful with them, lest he risked sounding insane in a town known for its strangeness. “After that moose, did you, I don’t know, hear anything weird? Like a growl?” Was he suggesting that he heard the moose...growl? Perhaps. But what was the more likely event: the moose growling or Ariana growling? Then again, little ghost girls were crawling out of leaky TVs and only moments ago they were almost ran over by a rampant moose and Frank himself had a literal silver tongue and giant wings stuck to his back, Ariana growling was hardly the strangest thing that happened in that afternoon alone.

“Fair point,” Ariana responded with a laugh. A clumsy bodyguard seemed like more of a hazard than protection. At the mention of having a strong arm, she shrugged. The full moon was quickly approaching so her strength was peaking though even during the new moon she liked to think her athleticism afforded her a bit more in the way of strength. “What can I say? My natural athletic prowess surprises yet again,” she answered with a laugh. It wasn’t entirely a lie and she was tempted to just throw out the fact she was a werewolf. She was almost positive she had seen the briefest glimpse of giant ass wings on his back when he stumbled from her push. It was unlikely he’d have anything against werewolves. She was trying to have a little bit more in the way of tact regarding this kind of thing, but was pretty much failing at that. Would there really be much harm in telling him? As stoic as he was, he seemed to have a soft spot for her. Not that she could blame him. She was adorable and she knew it.

As Ariana started to lead the way toward her apartment again, Frank mentioned the growl and she stopped in her tracks. Of course he heard that. Sometimes her instincts were stronger than her common fucking sense. If she was being honest, it was probably more than sometimes. She sighed and explained, “That wasn’t the moose. You did hear a growl. That was me.” She was already most of the way there to telling him, might as well go for it. “I’m a werewolf, that happens sometimes.” And there it was. Did this give her the ground to ask if she saw wings or would he just think she was crazy? She could probably chalk it up to weird teenaged Twilight daydreams if anything else. She watched Frank carefully, looking for any sign of how he was taking that little bomb.

In summation: little ghost girls were crawling out of leaking TVs, they were almost ran over by a raging moose, flying fishes were a thing, and so was raining dog toys apparently, and Ariana was a werewolf. The truth settled over Frank like a blanket and he was unpanicked and strangely unperturbed, though either would have seemed a more conventional reaction to the news. In fairness, that tends to happen when you have a tongue that is literally silver and giant wings sticking out of your back. She could have told him that she was Irish (considering how often she was at the Irish pub), and his reaction would not have differed greatly from that he had on now: raised brows, mouth slightly parted as if wanting to say something but unsure of what, and a pensiveness had settled over his eyes as he digested this new discovery. “You are…a werewolf.”

The first time Patrick told Frank that he was a fae, and that Frank was one too, he laughed (and then punched him again, but that could also be accredited to several other factors), and though the reality of his situation seemed entirely too impossible to be logical, his father’s explanation was the only one that made sense. Frank didn’t laugh this time, but was instead preoccupied with another thought: why was she volunteering this information? He was suddenly very acutely aware of his wings, and the effort he exerted to keep them hidden—like one who was suddenly very cognizant of their own breathing, and the mechanics of that unconscious process. She did see his wings, was the first thought, followed by a question of whether he minded that she did? Was he comfortable enough to let her know of what he was, as she apparently was with her secret? Was it ever a secret? It wasn’t as if the subject came up in a lot of their conversations to begin with. “A werewolf like…Michael J. Fox, werewolf?”

The news of her being a werewolf didn’t seem to come across as too much of a shock and Ariana was grateful for that. There was definitely some processing happening, but as much was to be expected. At least he wasn’t looking at her like she had five heads or something which meant he most likely believed her. “Yes, I’m a werewolf,” she said quietly. It wasn’t a secret, but shouting it from the rooftops would likely attract hunters that weren’t as understanding as the ones she knew. If she could help it, she’d rather not be a trophy on some asshole’s wall. She wanted to follow that statement with ‘you have wings’ because she was pretty sure she’d gotten a glimpse of them, but if she was wrong, he’d really think she was insane. At the mention of being a Michael J. Fox werewolf, her features contorted in confusion and she paused for a moment. “Wait, what?” Her head tilted as she looked at him in earnest and said, “I have no idea what that means or who Michael J. Fox is. The gist of it is I become wolfy around the full moon, have a good sense of smell and strength, and really like red meat. Oh, and I guess I growl sometimes.”

Well, fuck. There’s nothing quite like making an aged reference to remind you exactly of how old you are. “Michael J. Fox...like, Teen Wolf nineteen-eighty—you know what, don’t worry about it.” Although Ariana’s general description seemed to follow, more or less, the general formula of the werewolf myth Frank was familiar with, the strangest part of all of this was not that she was a werewolf but that he felt no distance between them since the discovery. No unease, or distrust; she was still exactly the Ariana he had come to know. The same Ariana who knew exactly which buttons of his to press, and the right words to say to coax a grin or a chuckle out of him, especially when he least expected it. In fact what he did feel was something more akin to relief. She wasn’t a fae but she wasn’t entirely human either—like him. A small part of Frank was almost envious of her. She was so comfortable with herself, she knew exactly what she was, and unapologetically so. She listed her traits with the familiarity and ease of a cook listing the ingredients of a well-known dish: no judgement, no prejudice, just simple facts. The same could not be said of himself. The subject of his fae heritage had always left a bitter taste in his mouth. One Frank washed down with cheap cigarettes and even cheaper alcohol, finished with a serving of good old fashioned denial. You know, healthy things. “You didn’t have to tell me that you know,” he said, “why did you?”

No one had ever really asked Ariana that question before and it left her a bit curious. Frank definitely did not seemed bothered by her revelation or afraid of her in any way which was good. It wasn’t like she’d ever hurt him. Still, she supposed other people were a bit more tight lipped about their species than she was. The fact of the matter was that she liked Frank and she didn’t believe he’d ever do anything to hurt her. She shrugged as they rounded the corner toward her building and she answered, “I don’t know, it’s not like a big secret or anything. I mean, I don’t like broadcast it for the world to know, but given everything today, I didn’t think you’d be too shocked. Plus, pretty sure you’re not a hunter… not that hunters are automatically bad. I’m friends with a few, but still.” It dawned on her she was growing more curious about what he was so she added, “Plus, you don’t seem too shocked. Do you have like some sort of background with this stuff?”

Frank kept his eyes forward, his expression betrayed little of his thoughts, but he could not deny the sliver of ice that slid down his spine at the mention of the word. Hunters. He didn’t know why that was. He also didn’t know why he started thinking about his father. Didn’t know why the word triggered the image of him to come to the forefront of his mind, and the fear that he saw in his eyes, or perhaps most frightening: the resignation in them. Most faes were immune to things that otherwise proved fatal to humans; difficult to kill if you didn’t know what you were doing, entirely possible if you did. Hunters would. Was that what happened to Patrick? Frank had never cared to ask, and thought little of that night since, until now. Not that hunters were automatically bad, Ariana had assured him. Frank offered her a smile (it looked off, but then again, it was Frank), though he wasn’t particularly eager to go out and test that theory either. He turned his gaze back down, and for a moment their eyes met. She knows. He lets out a sigh, his fingers raked through the side of his beard, unsure of how to put together the words he struggled to say even to himself in front of a mirror. “Er…yeah, you could say something like that. I mean not werewolves, obviously, you’d be the first, but other things.”

While it was still a mystery of how Frank knew all of this, he seemed to take it relatively with stride. At least, he wasn’t any more or less stoic than he normally was. Ariana was still curious to know if her hunch was correct, but he could tell her in his own time. She knew not everyone was as comfortable sharing their species as she was. Or maybe he was human and just didn’t try to make excuses for everything weird that happened in this town. She’d sworn she saw wings for a second there, but with everything else that happened, it was hard to tell. Either way, she offered him a warm smile as they neared her building. “Well, whoever said save the best for last was wrong then,” she joked with a smirk present on her face. She took on a more serious tone and added, “I know a lot of people here who have a bit of something extra, so if you ever find yourself in trouble or anything, let me know. Even if it’s not something you can throw a werewolf at, I usually know who to ask for help.” She stopped outside the front of her building and turned to Frank. With a small gesture, she said, “This is my stop. Keep an eye out for angry moose and let me know you make it home safe, alright?”

The invitation was a door and Ariana had so graciously held it open for him. All warm smiles and not even a glimpse of a shadow to hint judgement or malice or a well to use the knowledge of what he was against him. But Frank’s history shackled his feet and he didn’t move but looked at her with feigned ignorance. He’d as good as closed the door himself and every part of him wondered why. Simply, it was not Ariana he wanted to hide the truth from but himself. So he could play grumpy bartender a little bit longer, supplying banter and alcohol to underage werewolves and deny the responsibility of his supernatural inheritance. It was fucking pathetic, he knew it, and he swallowed the truth with a smile as Ariana was delivered safely to her front door. Although that was perhaps more her doing than his. “I’m not going to ask who or how you know said persons, but I will keep that in mind. Personally, I hope that it never comes to that.” He mirrored the gesture back to her, a reluctant grin cracked across his face in a way only Ariana could force out of him, “yes ma’am. You stay out of trouble kiddo.” Somehow he knew, as soon as he said it, trouble and Ariana were never too far away from each other.

#wickedswriting #encounters of the strange kind #frank #// this was so fun and i love their dynamic #JT also sent me with that last line

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samtheflamingomain · 5 years

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survivor: edge of bullshit

I’ve been a Super Fan of Survivor since I was 6 years old and the first season aired. I actually re-watched season 1 for the first time since I was 6 a while ago.

But I want to talk about season 38, which just wrapped on Wednesday.

If you’re even remotely aware of the Survivor fandom, you know the reactions to the winner are mixed at best. Spoilers ahead.

I was firmly in camp “Rick will win” as well as “Rick SHOULD win”. There’s a lot of reasons why, but because he didn’t win, I won’t get into it too much.

Chris won. He’s the only Survivor winner to play only 11 days of the game. He spent the other 28 days sitting on his ass doing literally nothing.

This season’s twist was “Edge of Extinction”. After you’re voted out, you can go to this tiny spit of an island with very little food and absolutely NOTHING to do, with the hopes you’ll get back in the game at 2 points: when there’s 13 players left, and when there’s 5 players left.

Rick won his way back into the game at 13, and Chris, who was voted out THIRD OUT OF EIGHTEEN, came back at final 5, making it final 6.

I have 3 major problems with his win, but first let’s get something out of the way.

He played the cards he was dealt. He made every move he needed to make to win. Yes, he spent 28 days on EoE, but that’s the twist. It was the theme of the game. He had no control over it. If you were voted out and got back in, you’d have done what you needed to do to convince 13 jury members that you deserved to win too. If you don’t think he deserved to win (and I don’t think he did), that’s a problem to take up with production, fucking up the season with this twist.

But, and this is extremely important, he was GIVEN an immunity idol at FINAL SIX. That, to me, is unforgivable. Why production thought this was a good idea is beyond me. You won your way back into the game, that should be reward enough.

ALSO, he didn’t really need that idol. Rick was a massive threat that everyone had been trying to get rid of for nearly half the game.

Secondly, Chris is the SOLE reason that Victoria was voted out. He came back from EoE, joined the final 5, and told them straight up that the jury (those who lost their chance at getting back in the game) that Victoria was going to get their votes. This led to her being voted out. I truly believe that if that didn’t happen, she would’ve won.

Finally, Kelley told everyone at EoE that Lauren had an idol. Chris used this knowledge to get her to flush the idol on him when he knew he wasn’t in danger of going home anyway. He played her, and the only way he could’ve done that is because Kelley is a fucking dumbass. Lauren had NO PART in her being voted out, yet the first fucking thing she said when she got to EoE was “Lauren has an idol”. Fuck. Her.

(I’ve always hated Kelley Wentworth from the first time she played. She’s a terrible player with absolutely no concept of strategy, and if you think otherwise, you’re a complete idiot who doesn’t pay attention. Bitch walked home with an idol in her pocket TWICE. She is not a competent player and I don’t understand why she’s been brought back three fucking times. I hope we never have to see her again.)

Again, Chris played with what he had. And I do believe that, if it had been anyone else who’d gotten back in the game, they too would’ve used all the info they gathered on the Edge to their advantage. So again, it’s a matter of hating the game, not the player.

This season was an absolute mess. The edit was terrible, the finale was entertaining but unsatisfying, and, in the end, I couldn’t tell you a single fucking thing about Chris. Because he was only onscreen for, literally, 4 episodes out of 14.

I realize that the editors must’ve been losing their minds when it came to how to piece together this season. But they fucked up, bad. They gave ten times as much screen time to the losers that didn’t even make final 3 than they did Julie, Gavin and Chris. And of that final 3, Julie and Gavin had waaaay more screen time than Chris.

Here’s how they should’ve done it: EoE ends at the merge, OR, final 8 or final 7. To bring back this guy nobody remembers in the finale, in ONE EPISODE, was a massive error, and it will easily put this season in (at least my) bottom 15.

I don’t put a lot of stock into Edgic (the concept of trying to determine the winner based on how visible and positive their content is, how many confessionals they get, etc.) but it has been largely correct in seasons past.

If I had to guess, less than 10% of people who watch Survivor religiously would’ve guessed Chris would win. And for casual viewers? They probably left the finale going “who the fuck is Chris??” and I wouldn’t blame them one bit.

It was very entertaining television to watch Rick. But when he made final 4, I knew he wasn’t going to win. I couldn’t possibly have forseen Chris giving up his immunity at final 4 to defeat Rick at fire - I thought Gavin would beat him - but I have to admit, being the first survivor to give up final immunity and then winning fire... that’s one helluva move, and I’d argue, one that made him the best of the final 3.

Gavin played a solid game. It was pointed out that he almost always voted correctly, and never received even one vote against him in 39 days. Julie, sorry hun, but you were an emotional wreck and an absolute goat. You made 0 interesting moves and you’re a very annoying person to watch. That’s why you got 0 votes at final. And FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, “Etsy Shop Owner” is not a fucking job. You are a mother who makes shitty crafts. (In case it’s not obvious, I have no respect for her game whatsoever.)

I’m glad Gavin did get some votes; if it’d been a runaway for Chris I’d be pretty pissed. I’m already kinda salty that he did win, because of the simple fact that he ONLY PLAYED THE GAME FOR 11 DAYS. I’d actually have been more satisfied if Reem had won the challenge and then won the game, because at least she has a vibrant personality and stayed on the Edge for an astounding 33 days.

But I think my biggest problem is this: last season, David vs. Goliath, a David won. Just like the myth. Perfect for encapsulating the theme of the season. Then, encapsulating the theme of THIS season, an EoE returnee won. If a Goliath had won last season it would’ve been unsatisfying.

But this season, if a non-returnee had won, it wouldn’t have negatively effected the twist of the season. In my opinion.

The one thing that completely ruined this season for me was giving Chris an idol at final 6. And if I’m being honest, Rick probably ruined his own game by giving Chris back his half of the immunity idol. Yeah, they had a relationship, but this is a game, and Rick should’ve seen that giving Chris immunity at final 5 was a mistake. Look at all the winners past: a lot of them did a good amount of backstabbing. And I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that, if Rick was sitting at final tribal, he would’ve won with 13 votes.

I’m not saying he was robbed - he sealed his own fate - but because there were 16 people left in the finale... it screwed things up.

Anyway, I’ve rambled enough. Even though I thoroughly hate the theme of season 39, let’s hope it’s better than the carnage we witnessed this season.

Stay Greater.

#survivor #survivor 38 #edge of extinction #sam

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fabulizemag · 5 years

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28 days of supporting Black creatives and small businesses

New Post has been published on https://fabulizemag.com/2019/02/28-days-of-supporting-black-creatives-and-small-businesses/

28 days of supporting Black creatives and small businesses

As we conclude Black History Month and head into Black HERstory month aka Women’s History month, we wanted to compile a comprehensive list of black creates and businesses to support. Please support black creatives year round. Let them know they are visible; even if you don’t but their goods, share their work with others. Be the word of mouth, share their social media and leave good reviews on their business pages.

Crown of Curls

Crown of Curls “I officially started Crown of Curls about 3 years ago. Initially I was making hair creams, and I only gave them to family and friends. I now make a larger range of products, from body butters to conditioning leave-in sprays. Every item is handmade using natural ingredients. All products can be tailored to fit your needs. I also offer completely custom-made hair creams and hair oils. While anyone can use my products, all items are made with kinky-curly hair in mind. ”

You can find them on IG and Facebook.

youtube

Ben Reynolds is an animator working on a few projects. He has Kerlash and he’s working on an hip hop animation series.

“Subscribe to me on Youtube! I have an animated web series about a ninja girl in artschool. I only have 2 episodes so far but I’m currently working on the next one. There’s also tutorials and videos of me ranting about animation. I have another fairly new youtube channel where I make AMV’s based on hiphop and R&B. I only have one video up so far, but will start updating more regularly once I wrap up some other things I’m working on.”

Whole As Wednesdays

WholeAsWednesday

Whole as Wednesdays is a podcast where the black femme working-class perspective is centered.

Banks of Commune

Banks of Commune “Banks of commune’s serums, masks, oil cleansers, and polishes are enriched with omega balanced fatty acids, helping skin to maintain the healthy oil and water balance our skin needs. skin that has a balanced layer of protective oil has less inflammation, a stronger immune system, leading to smooth, clear, calm skin. the select ingredients counteract environmental pollution, and stress-related inflammation. facial muscles and skin need a workout as well. having a facial clears out debris and toxins, giving that glow a great platform to shine through. providing facials for 16 years, and consistently researching our skin’s processes has shown me that stress and imbalanced nourishment combine to wreak havoc on our bodies, which is reflected in our skin. regular facial treatments and your skin’s daily “food” encourages balanced skin. a banks of commune skin is radiant.”

Charlotte Banks is an esthetician and has been practicing for 16 years. She formulates skincare products with black skin and melanated skin centered.

You can find them on Instagram

Hello Boogie

Serving you the full urban art anime fantasy, Hello Boogie is a clothing brand that is about empowerment in all shapes and form. It’s a brand that screams ‘Fuck you!’ to the nay-sayers. It’s passive aggressive rebellion made fashionable. It’s that brand that hates getting up in the morning. It does not have time to deal with it’s co-workers bullshit. It’s going to wear what it wants even if it’s inappropriate, even if it’s “too much”.

It’s cool, it’s sexy, it’s dangerous.

Beauty Pop

Shan Walz owner of Beauty Pop Self-Care Shop

Beauty Pop is dedicated to the woman who wants to live her best life on her terms. With a focus on natural ingredients, remedies, and holistic life hacks, Beauty Pop is here to serve you! In addition to fostering a culture of sisterhood and support, we are here to ensure other small businesses win! Come on in to Beauty Pop and let us enhance your dopeness.

About Shan Walz: I own Beauty Pop, a self-care shop in Norfolk, VA. I sell all natural soaps, hair, bath, and yoni products in addition to loose leaf herbal teas (hand blended by yours truly) and dessert teas. I also carry books and handmade accessories by local Black owned businesses. I’m also hosting a Free Baby Food Drive to assist families who won’t receive nutrition benefits in February due to the government shutdown. I literally picked vegetables from a farm and HANDMADE baby food to distribute from my shop, free of charge to those needing the service.

You can find them on IG and Facebook.

Inner Wisdom Doula and Lactation Services

Inner Wisdom Doula and Lactation

About Kendra:

“I’m a birth & postpartum doula, Certified Lactation Counselor, & Placenta Encapsulation Specialist serving the MetroWest Boston area. If you’re looking for a doula, lactation support, placenta encapsulation and/or you just like things birth, breastfeeding, & babies, come check out my page.”

Visit their IG for more info.

Drinking With Blerds

Drinking With Blerds is where two Caribbean-ish black millennial professionals unpack all the mysteries of life over drinks. Tune in as we discuss things like bad high school memories, adulting, being black and young in the workplace, a bunch of things going on in popular culture, all the the problematic shit going on in the world, and pretty much anything we want to talk about. Also we’re petty so listeners beware. Cheers!

Small Scale Styles

About Nina: “Well hello there, my lovelies! My name is Nina and I love making things. Art, craft, music, trouble. Those are my jams! This shop came about because I started making things for my niece’s doll. I soon discovered, how much I love making doll fashions. I also found I really enjoy customizing dolls so most of the dolls you will see in my shop, I redesigned to my liking!

This shop may be new to Etsy but I’m not. I have a metalsmithing jewelry shop (Beads In The Belfry) that I started in 2007 but is currently on hiatus. I hope you like what you see! I have so many ideas that I’ll be adding new things to the shop just as fast as my fingers can fly!”

Follow Nina and her pretty dolls on Instagram.

Griot Enterprises

Horsemen Graphic Novel

Home of The Horsemen and 4 Pages 16 Bars: A Visual Mixtape! The gods of Ancient Africa have returned to save humanity from itself… Whether we like it or not.

Find more black comics on Facebook.

Yarn Goddess Cosplay

Geeky. Crocheted. Local. Yarn Goddess Cosplay shows there is more to crocheting than just granny squares. Shop crop tops, bathing suits, pillows or place a custom order!

Amasia

Shane Paul Neil launches Amasia

About Shane Paul Neil: “I’m the CEO of a new business development agency, www.Amasia.io. I’m slowly getting back to writing. Check spnwrites on IG. Check out. BlackPodcastHub.com for a directory of Black podcasts. Finally, Unreasonable Fridays is the podcast crew.”

Breast Milk University

Breast Milk University is the favorite source for all breastfeeding related spiritwear and keepsakes. We know the breastfeeding journey inside out and we want to share our pride with the world. We are here to #normalizebreastfeeding and we know breastfeeding comes in many different forms. Every breastfeeding journey is not easy and doesn’t last forever but let’s celebrate the accomplishments we have made! Our hope is to inspire women to learn more about breastfeeding and find support in this community of milk makers!

Follow them on Facebook and Instagram.

AforFi

Power through representation

Afro-Fi TV

Dreaming Elephants Tutoring

Meet Thomas Sumter:

“I’m the Owner and Founder of Dreaming Elephants Tutoring in Philadelphia, PA. We offer in home Academic Tutoring and Test Prep(ACT/SAT, ISEE/SSAT, GRE/GMAT) for all students K-12 and *College and Grad Students(for select classes). Our primary focuses are English/Language Arts, Math, and the Natural Sciences(Biology, Chemistry, Physics,etc). Two things will make us different than your typical Tutoring company. First,we are led by people with a history or background in Education. I personally have been tutoring for 13 years and anybody I hire must have at least 3 years of tutoring/teaching experience. The second thing that makes us different(and better), we create individual tutoring plans/guides for each individual client and their academic needs.

Just as your teachers would create a lesson plan for an entire class, we do the same thing for each of our clients. This lesson plan is available for the client, their parents and educators to follow along as we tutor with them each session.”

Find them on Facebook.

Che’la McClain

About Che’la: “I’m a poet and I’ve been writing for what’ll be 15 years in a few months. I’m also a model and I’d like to think my website has variety in its subjects.”

Che’la McClain received her Bachelor of Arts degree in Poetry/Creative Writing with an Education Minor from Columbia College Chicago in 2017. A Gary, Indiana native she began her higher education pursuit at Vincennes University where she received her Associate of Science degree in General Studies as she shaped her long term goals. Che’la is an avid reader and through her literary excursions she receives inspiration for her true life passion which is poetry. She acknowledges her most free and authentic expression is through both writing and performing in this art. Since high school she has performed many of her original works throughout the Indiana and Illinois area in such events as both annual “Louder than a Bomb” Poetry Slam, and “One Night Only” Talent Showcase. As her schedule permits, she frequents the “open mic” circuit in Chicago. In her limited spare time she busies herself with her other interest which include photography, sewing, music of all genres, and playing the acoustic guitar. Her passion for all areas of the arts is the impetus for her ultimate goal; to teach underprivileged or special needs children self-expression through the arts. Che’la lives in Chicago, Illinois and is currently working in customer service to support herself.

Come Taste Africa

Taste of Africa is a multi-pronged African Food Culture and Lifestyle initiative aimed at exposing, showcasing and providing access-to-market for African Food Products and those involved in its industry. We provide an experiential African food journey, online African food knowledge, information and lifestyle content depicting the modern and historical narrative of African food.

Learn more about their delicious food on Facebook.

The Art of Teshika Silver

View this post on Instagram

Grow. Inside. Outside. The spaces in between. The first in a series of three. Come by this weekend to one of the places I’ll be vending and pick up a print to remind you to grow. Check my bio and Instagram story for event details.

A post shared by Teshika Silver (@astratesh) on Feb 21, 2019 at 12:35pm PST

Teshika is a creative with over 12 years of wide-range professional art experience. Illustration is her passion, using both traditional media as well as digital programs to create pieces that are both captivating and magical. She is also an intuitive graphic designer, working with local organizations and small business owners alike: be it by logo design, promotional pieces or other marketing collateral. She is currently a teaching artist at Hyde Park Art Center where she works closely with youth. She strives to create work that uplifts, heals and promotes the resilience of marginalized people.

Follow her on IG.

Holistic Heights

“As the great grandchild of an Indigenous Healer from the Island of Grenada, I could not escape my roots. Working in Corporate America for many years, I began to see colleagues grow sick, many even passing at a young age. I had become overwhelmed by the need to liberate myself and my loved ones from a modernity that denies an age old tradition of healthy lifestyle. On September 11th, 2001, I was pregnant with my first child, working near The World Trade Center / “Twin Towers”. When Tower One collapsed, I ran for my life, and it feels like I’ve been running ever since; running from illness and the general decay that can get the better of us when we fail to equate happiness with healthiness. After 9/11 my son and I developed severe cases of asthma and eczema. The idea of becoming a guinea pig for allopathic treatment was out of the question. I was determined to heal the bodies of my son and I naturally. This was my mission as well as the birth of Holistic Heights!

I received my professional training as a Holistic Health Practitioner from the Institute for Integrative Nutrition’s cutting-edge Health Coach Training Program, as well as Teachers College, Columbia University.

During my training, I studied over 100 dietary theories, practical lifestyle management techniques, and innovative coaching methods with some of the world’s top health and wellness experts. My teachers included Dr. Andrew Weil, Director of the Arizona Center for Integrative Medicine; Dr. Deepak Chopra, leader in the field of mind-body medicine; Dr. David Katz, Director of Yale University’s Prevention Research Center; Dr. Walter Willett, Chair of Nutrition at Harvard University; Iyanla Vanzant, one of America’s most profound spiritual leaders and acclaimed empowerment legends; Geneen Roth, bestselling author and expert on emotional eating; and many other leading researchers and nutrition authorities.

My journey in wellness led me to further advance myself in various holistic methods of healing. Realizing healing manifests in many forms, I later became a Reiki Practitioner, Reflexologist, Aromatherapist, Iridologist and Yoni Steam Spa & Yoga Practitioner. I am grateful for the opportunity to have met and studied under some of the best healers of our day, including Dr. Laila Afrika, world renowned physician, researcher, author and healer; Dr. Akua, naturopath, spiritualist and master teacher, International Operations Director for A Life of Peace Wellness Institute, Inc., an international holistic health education and wellness non-profit organization, Queen Esther Hydrotherapist & Nutritionist of Queen Esther’s Holistic Haven LLC in Brooklyn, NY. Master Reflexologist & Healer, Dr. El Ha Gahn; Sister Maa and Dr Sebi, world renowned healers and founders of The Fig Tree, The USHA Healing Village in Honduras, and The Electric Cell Food; Elder Mr. Hooker, Intuitive Energy Healer and Wellness Instructor; Dr. Paul Goss, Master Iridologist and best selling author; Sat-Ra Sobukwe SoDaye, Kemetic Reiki Master and Founder of the Yoni Steam Institute, & LIFE the most important, influential instructor of all.

My education and intuitive abilities has equipped me with extensive knowledge in holistic nutrition, health coaching, energy healing and preventive health. Drawing on these skills and my knowledge of living a holistic lifestyle, I work with my clients to help them make lifestyle changes that produce real and lasting results. My passion lies in educating, empowering and connecting one to their body’s innate ability to heal itself. It is our birthright.

Come join me…

My Approach

*A different approach

I practice a holistic approach to health and wellness, which means that I look at how all areas of your life are connected. Does stress at your job or in your relationship cause you to over eat? Does lack of sleep or low energy prevent you from exercising? As we work together, we will look at how all parts of your life affect your health as a whole.

A health coach (or health counselor) is a wellness guide and supportive mentor. Together, we will work to achieve your goals in areas such as achieving optimal weight, food cravings, sleep and energy. Through working with me, you’ll develop a deeper understanding of the foods and lifestyle choices that work best for you and implement lasting changes that will improve your energy, balance and health.

*Bio-individuality

The concept of bio-individuality is that each person has her or his own food and lifestyle needs. One person’s food is another person’s poison, and thats why fad diets tend to fail in the long run. Working on the principle of bio-individuality, I will support you in making positive changes that are based on your unique needs, lifestyle, personal preferences, and background. Instead of prescribing one fix for all people, I use a personalized, holistic approach that is based on your needs.

*Everything is food

We are not only fed by food, but by other factors in our lives. Healthy relationships, a fulfilling career, regular physical activity and a spiritual practice are essential forms of nourishment. When these primary foods are balanced, what you eat becomes secondary.”

Support these black-owned businesses and creatives!

#black history month #creatives

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