This is Miles’ sense of style.
This is mine.
I think Miles looks great just the way he is. He is adorable and funny and outspoken and fun. Of course he gets some of his je ne sais quoi from moi but he is also developing who he is and will loudly explain to me what he does and does not want to wear.
It is always interesting to me how people react to Miles’ personal style and how people react to mine. When walking down the street people will stop and smile at him, praising him for being such a handsome young man and reveling in his ingenuity and cuteness. He becomes a modest Rico Suave politely thanking them for their kind words while striking a Gentlemen’s Quarterly pose. I always laugh because outsiders and passerbys get the meek docile version of Miles while I get either the crazed super-mutant-ninja-turtle-avenger Miles or moody preteen I-don’t wanna-interact-cuz-I’m-playing-Naruto at home. People are of the general and correct opinion that Miles is an alright kid; tenacious, intelligent, and attractive. They are absolutely right.
The people’s reaction to me is a completely different story. “How many tattoos do you have?” “Why would you get your nose pierced? Ew, I don’t like it.” “Have you ever thought about getting a perm? So you’re just not doing that, hunh?” It seems the questions and criticisms never end and while I spend my life trying to accept and enjoy other people’s choices in life other people spend their lives judging mine.
I have always been “unique”, even though uttering that phrase makes me feel “un-unique” because everyone thinks they are unique. Let’s just say I’m eclectic. One moment I can be into long vintage 60’s style prom dresses and the next punk leather jackets and neon minis (idk, sounds like a nice outfit!) I don’t like wearing the same thing everyday; it bores the hell out of me. And I find inspiration in everything, especially other people. People I see on the street, students I teach, musicians I like, pictures in magazines. We are all influenced and changed by those around us and my own personal goal is to take what I see and make it me; make it work for who I am and what I want to do in life.
One would think that in a world filled with war, hatred and ignorance my little ensemble choices would seem to be the least of everyone else’s concerns. But apparently, what I’m wearing, how I choose to do my hair, and where I get pierced is throwing off the balance of the universe. I feel sometimes like I have some ‘splaining to do. So I’m going to say this once and anyone who asks dumb ass questions or makes asinine judgements from henceforth and forever more will be referred to my blog:
I have 17 tattoos and counting. Yes, I will be getting more. I like them and I’m obsessed with butterflies. They are very addictive as well and I figure since I’m not currently on crack this is an OK addiction to have for the moment. No, I will not regret them when I’m 80; I probably won’t be able to see by then. And I also hope to look like this woman when I get there:
I got my nose pierced because I think it looks cool. I personally think it looks good on me as well; it brings out the color of my eyes (wink). I was told once that if I got my septum pierced I would never be able to get married. Well, I didn’t have any proposals lined up before I got it in December so I figure I’m not hurting my chances much. I am also not a woman of “loose morals” as suggested by the water cooler man who got on the elevator with me at school one day. Sir, let me assure you, I am a great teacher and do not use my piercings to lure the students into all types of devil worship. I am personally proud to say that I DO NOT teach your child as he/she is probably a judgmental cretin just like you.
My clothes fit me. Yes you can see my curves. I am not a size 0 but I am also not an 95 year-old nun. My clothes are bright colors. I don’t like dark colors. Dark colors make Morgan sad. What also makes Morgan sad is looking like a Gap commercial. Seriously, that works for some people and looks amazing, but on me? I look like a deranged Stepford wife.
And finally, my hair. I know that hair is a BIG DEAL in the Black community (much more on that later). I will not be getting on the Creamy Crack anytime soon; in layman’s terms I will not be”getting a perm”. Let me let you all in on a little secret; perms break down the natural structure of your hair and use lye to burn your kinkiness into submission scorching your scalp along with it and leaving a thin a layer of green gunk on your brain in its wake. I am not saying I am against straight hair; on the contrary I think it is beautiful on some people. But there are other ways to get it; new innovations everyday, Dominican beauty shops on every corner! And me with straight hair looks like White Mike with an afro; out of place.
Whew! I’m glad I got that all out. Any further questions can be answered by my “people” (or Miles telling you, “You better shut up before Mommy punches you in the neck!”)
Really people, the judging and rude comments are getting old. And more importantly, they hurt my feelings. I do have feelings after all. I believe we are all beautiful and should be respected as such. Don’t believe me? 1 Corinthians 12: 18 “But God hath set the members every one of them in the body, as it hath pleased him.” Translation? God said stop hating (hate hate hate hate hate hate hate) because He made everything just the way He wanted it to be; that includes me with all my tattoos and piercings. If He didn’t want me to get them, He wouldn’t have made my skin so easily tattooable and piercable. I have finally decided to stop listening to the evil voices of naysayers around me and just trust and love myself. After all, another wise man (named Buddha!) says, “You, yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.” I am the only opinion who truly matters in my life and I love me! The rest of you can kick rocks . . .