Me and My Boyfriend

I’m always dressing my pretend boyfriend in my head. Although I’m presently single, in my mind I constantly put the stylish men’s things I come across in save for my imaginary beau. I often say to myself, that would look so good on tk - journalism speak for ‘to come’. I know that seems nuts but I’m sure I’m not alone in this. Go figure. Anywho, when discovering the designs of Omar, the creative mastermind behind a men’s clothing line of the same name, I definitely had one of those moments. I envisioned explaining to TK the wonderful world of bespoke tailoring, putting him on to the likes of Ozwald Boateng before introducing him to the next installation of this artform stateside - courtesy of Omar. See, Omar is for the dude who isn’t quite comfortable with the snug trousers that Boateng creates and might be a tad bit thrown off by his bright, unconventional color combinations. Yet, he recognizes his talent and is beginning to outgrow the notion that a button-up + hard bottom shoes = formal. He understands that expert tailoring is truly a gift and that classic, timeless clothing is an investment.



Omar’s price points are, well… Omar’s stuff is probably expensive to the average working-class guy. But it is a high-end luxury line so the prices are relative. (Suits start at $1,200.) Omar carries everything from outerwear, denim, suits, separates; even ties and pocket squares. And the details on an Omar garment are bananas. The contrast linings (think Paul Smith - dang, I really do have a thing for Brit designers), exquisite fabric selections and unique top-stitching. Omar provides the type of quality clothing that will last a lifetime so there is no question that these threads are worth the dough. Now those trendy, multi-colored hoodies with random logo prints that retail for a few hundred dollars? Not so much. Omar’s clothes are certainly memorable as I first learned of this line well over a year ago (yeah, I’ve been single for a minute) and I’m still saving this find for Mr. TK. Guess some things truly are worth the wait.

Look for Omar at the N Boutique in Harlem http://www.nharlemnewyork.com/ (a true find in itself) or hit up his website directly at http://omarxomar.com/.

(Blogger is still giving me a fit with these links! I think I should get my 10 year-old goddaughter to help me... Please bear with me in the meantime folks.)

Got style?

"I wish I had the money for style like that."
Actress Leighton Meester on her character Blake Lively.

Blake Lively is one-third of the trio that is sure to have America mesmerized this fall on the prime-time hopeful of CW, ‘Gossip Girl’. The show, which will undoubtedly be one of my idiot box guilty pleasures, chronicles the lives of three NYC socialites in the making. These are the types who have coming out parties that W mag covers, attend schools like Spence and go shopping in Dubai. Think an east coast version of the O.C. but snootier. Well, I’ll be tuning in partly because I am interested in watching what clothes the characters are wearing and how they are wearing them. I admit it doggonit. However, I also like to watch what people are wearing on 125th Street in Harlem. Real talk. After reading the above quote that appeared in this Wednesday’s Women’s Wear Daily, (the bible of the fashion industry) I was a bit surprised. Very surprised actually because I really did think that by now, folks got that big money doesn’t equal big style. C’mon, we’ve all seen highly paid actors and actresses on the red carpet looking a hot mess and we all have that aunt, cousin or neighbor who stays pulled together fiercely on her way to work at the post office. If I knew Leighton, I would put her on to a few things. Maybe her publicist reads this blog and will deliver the message for me? (Yeah, I didn’t think so either.)

Usually, style, enviable style is based on instinct. Still, these are a few things I’ve picked up from stylish guys and gals over the years. And none of them had coming out parties or shop in Dubai.

1 - Know what looks good on you.
Once you learn that wrap dresses are a flattering silhouette on your hourglass figure or that emerald green compliments your cocoa skin-tone, it all becomes a lot easier.

2 - If you take care of your clothes, they will take care of you.
Okay, I got this one from my southern mother. It seems like a no-brainer but so many people don’t do it. Wash the whites with the whites and the colors with the colors. If laundry isn’t your thing, send your clothes to the dry-cleaners. Oh and if you’re not gonna do the dry-cleaning thing, invest in an iron or steamer. It makes a world of difference - trust.

3 - Wear the size that fits and stop obsessing over the physical number.
Self-explanatory. Calvin Klein’s 6 is not the same size as Banana Republic’s 6 anyway.

4 - A tailor is your friend.
If everything you wear always fits perfectly off the rack then skip to number 5. That’s rarely the case for any of us. Men understand the importance of a tailor, women are late to the game. The way a pant leg breaks at the top of a shoe when it is just the right length? Sick.

5 - Start with a good foundation.
This one is just for the ladies. The right undergarments are key to ensuring everything else falls and lays the way you ultimately want it to. Bumps and lumps are distracting. One last word: Spanx.

The Hair Diaries

Jeez. The weight we carry with our hair. It is heavy, heavy, heavy. While I certainly understand the historical events that led to the psychological impact hair has had on Black women or women of African descent (which generally includes Latin/South American women as well) it still baffles me from time to time. I myself made a comment about my girl crush Gabby's weave on this here blog that some might strongly disagree with. Let's face it, people have been having this discussion for decades. Recall last post when I reminded everyone that a woman is never just one thing? Well, clearly a lot of folks still haven’t received that memo. Straight, long hair (particularly if it’s a weave) means one is superficial; empty even. Twists, afros, and the like signify a strong sense of self-pride. And locks? Lock wearers are bona fide righteous, card carrying ‘I know everything about the motherland’ sistas.

Well guess what? I have met my share of empty, superficial lock wearers. And I know some folks with relaxed hair that can teach a college course on the African diaspora. More often than not, a woman changes her hair in conjunction with what is going on in her life and I have found this to be true with females of all races. I have been ‘natural’ (meaning there has been no permanent chemical processing on my strands) for over seven years. However, I’ve been blowing my hair out or pressing it for the past year or so. I just got bored. Occasionally I will still rock it twisted and kinky - depends on how I feel. I am presently eyeing a braided style (haven’t had braids in a minute) for the fall and once I’m sick of those I’ll probably cut it. But I’m still Bsquared. Scared of pigeons, Nasir Jones lovin’, calligraphy writing, always looking for a bargain, magazine junkie B. Despite all those hairstyles, who I am doesn’t change.

The too fly for words Sonia Sanchez reminded me and many others of this last week in NYC’s Central Park. She recently chopped off her locks. Ms. Sanchez noticed that while it was a significant difference in her appearance, the reactions she received from her peeps were overwhelming. Good, bad or indifferent, everyone had so much to say about her new 'do. Ms. Sanchez pointed out that its a shame people don’t pay nearly as much attention to eyes, lips or even knees. (Really think about that...)

I am the first to admit that self-hatred, particularly as it relates to self image is very damaging. Crippling even. I cringe every time I hear someone speak the words ‘good hair’. Like it’s not 2007 and we don’t know any better. (Thank goodness my father never allowed me say that.) Our hair should never, ever define us. Rather, we define our hair - in ALL it’s many variations. Now my great-aunt Marion in Chatham County, North Carolina is not going to stop saying ‘good hair’. Bless her heart. But let’s not allow another generation to stay limited to archaic notions about that stuff that grows from the top of our heads.

We’re much too fly for that.

Bsquared’s Note: I have some exciting, service-driven, ‘news you can use’ type stuff coming down the pike but I just had to post this ‘cuz it was on my mind.

Life and Lingerie

It's the little things...

A few months back my girl Mo called me frantically requesting lingerie resource suggestions for her wedding night. As any good friend does in such a situation, I immediately got on the case. I quickly sent her the link to Agent Provocateur. This uber-luxe lingerie line has been around over a decade but is much less popular on this side of the pond than it is in it’s birthplace of London. Everybody raves about La Perla but the masses generally sleep on the racier Agent Provocateur. Darn shame too since they offer super-duper sexy separates (less sugary-sweet than La Perla) with a real grown woman edge. They even have maternity lingerie. How cool is that? The price tags are a tad hefty for most of us but worth the splurge if you’re looking to treat yourself or someone special. I also truly dig the feminine simplicity of Lavande SWK. A little less dough than A.P. but the craftsmanship is just as prevalent. It's a small yet well-edited offering designed to feel like a gift to both the wearer and observer. Be sure to peep the bralettes. So chic. Mo was very grateful for being put on to both. Now for less fancy occasions, the stand-by wifebeater (Didn’t I say they were multi-functional? Just make sure it’s teeny-tiny.) and a pair of cotton boy shorts can be surprisingly sexy in a ‘I really didn’t try to be sexy’ sorta way for much less mulah.

http://www.agentprovocateur.com/
http://www.lavande-swk.com/

Jonesing on freestyle lyrics from true hip-hop heads one week and lingerie from a high-brow British lingerie brand the next. Am I tripping with this? Nah. This kind of juxtaposition is what makes me, me. A woman is never just one thing.

Blogger is not cooperating with me these days. I'm working on the links but for now just copy and paste the addresses - blah, blah, blah... I know it's lame.

Beats and Rhymes

No iPods here!


I’ve been a fan of hip-hop for most of my life. I wrote this a few months back in the heat of the ‘Don Imus/Hip-Hop is responsible for society’s demise’ hoopla. In the words of Ne-Yo I guess I needed to clear some mental space. Well, after viewing Miss Info’s blog entry earlier this week, I knew I needed to post it. Reading her reflection on an impromtu performance at NYC’s SOBs convinced me to share my feelings in a public manner. This may seem to have nothing to do with style but honestly what genre of music has had a more powerful affect on fashion than hip-hop in this century?

Everyone, everyone - I mean everybody has something to say about hip-hop
lately. Imus, Oprah even my cousin Rufus from Selma, Alabama. (Yes, I really have a cousin named Rufus.) All of this talk actually got me to thinking about the reasons I still love hip-hop. Yeah, I'm just as annoyed and disappointed with many of the happenings in our current state of the artform as most of y'all. And no, this isn't some outpouring about my dysfunctional relationship with the music. That's
been done - to death. I just wanted to share with someone why after all this
time, all these ups and downs, I can't sit still when I hear a song like Redman's Time for Some Action. (If that song isn’t a sho’ nuff’ head nodder, I don’t know what is.)

My brother, who is several years my senior, introduced me to hip-hop. Not by choice either. Back in the early 80s, he really wanted nothing to do with me. But as an aspiring dj whose bedroom was right next to his younger sister's, he had no choice but to allow me to hear everything he was feeling at the time. Let's Dance to the Drummer's Beat is technically not even hip-hop but man that song always makes me think of it because my big bro played it ALL the time back in the day when he was just starting to dj. (It’s all about the break beats.) Our father loved jazz and blues and strongly encouraged my brother and me to appreciate music but had little to no respect for hip-hop initially because he thought "Those kids aren't even playing instruments, they're just talking over other people's songs!" I also think he felt it was a fad that would quickly pass us all by. Well, when my brother and his best friend Will saved their money to buy a set of turntables and a mixer, things changed a bit. See, whenever my father noticed a sincere interest in his children, he supported it. It definitely didn't happen overnight, but in his own way, my brother got our father (I've yet to meet anyone as opinionated and headstrong as he was.) to give hip-hop a chance. My dad saw that my brother spent virtually all his allowance and money from part-time jobs here and there on records and practically all his free-time mixing. I honestly don't think he came to like the music before he passed away but in my heart, I know he learned to respect it. Ain't that a beautiful thing?



HAPPY BORN DAY BENJAMIN - 7.27! (And I love you like cooked food too.)

People and Places

(2 posts in one today - I’m feeling good!)

My Girl Crush: Gorgeous Gabby

Yes, you read correctly. I have a crush on a female. No, I haven’t lost my mind. Nor am I homosexual, bi or part of that growing population of chicks who thinks it is cute to fool around with women for some man’s pleasure. I still date men exclusively - happily in fact. But every now and again I have a crush on someone of the same sex. Like most crushes, it’s typically someone I only know from a distance. At the moment I have a certified crush on Gabrielle Union. I just think she’s adorable. The flawless skin, the dimples, the infectious smile. And while I think she always looks pulled together on the red carpet, her style is admittedly pretty safe. She's no Tracee or Kelis when it comes to setting trends. But I do think she always looks like a lady. So important. She (or her stylist) understands that it is possible to look sexy without appearing trashy. And she rocks the requisite Hollywood weave but it never looks weavy. She has enough sense not to get the blonde, silky European hair and manages to always match her natural locks up pretty well to the false strands. Last but certainly not least, Gab reps for us chocolate sisters. I’m so not about to open that can of political worms in this post but let’s be real; there is an obvious imbalance of darker skin female celebs in the game - period. Gabrielle is refreshing for that reason alone.

It’s really all in my head, this crush. Honestly, it takes more than looks to truly tickle my fancy and that goes for both sexes. Gab’s acting in my humble opinion is mediocre at best. (Save for ‘Something The Lord Made’, nothing on her resume is even memorable to me.) But I had to let my little secret out. Actually it’s not a secret for most of those close to me. My girls tend to brush me off with a dismissive "B, you’re so crazy." But a lot of them have girl crushes too. Most women have them but whether they choose to admit it in a public forum is another thing. If my mother ever reads this I will definitely have some ‘splaining to do…



Can Gabrielle even take a bad picture?



On to places…

Good Eats While Beating the Heat

It’s summertime and the living is easy. I love the idea of dining outdoors during the summer months but I’m afraid of pigeons so that leaves me somewhat limited in the places I can go in Manhattan. On Sunday I went to the Central Park Boathouse to celebrate a friend’s born day and was thoroughly impressed. I mean really impressed. Absolutely no flying rats interrupted my meal! My friends and I couldn’t stop commenting on how pretty the place was. The service was remarkable (Not many restaurants have waiters that will breakdance on request.), the food delicious and the ambiance was amazing. Okay, I was taught in journalism classes that words like great and amazing are empty so let me be a little more descriptive. The CPB offers a breathtaking view of a lake where one can gaze at gondolas float by. No need to go to Venice, just hop on the subway to Central Park. Pretty cool, right? The prices are fairly affordable by NYC standards (average entree is about $25). CPB's grub is standard American fare with lots of seafood dishes. The crabcake (served with a sweet cucumber salad) was a huge hit with my crew. Be sure to try the lemon cake. It will literally melt in your mouth. Mmm, mmm good.

http://www.thecentralparkboathouse.com/sections/home.htm



(C.J. - Thanks so much for all your help. I'm getting there, lol!)

Can it be that it was all so simple then?

Reebok's limited-edition Jean-Michel Basquiat inspired sneaker


I’m feeling a little nostalgic today because I’m still high off of the New Edition concert I went to last night. The 1980’s heartthrob singing sensation rocked NYC’s Beacon Theater (unfortunately sans Ralph Tresavant who was ill) and I enjoyed every minute of it. I was two-stepping to Popcorn Love and Mr. Telephone Man like I was eight years old again. Good times. I have rather fond memories of my childhood and I grew up in a very working class household. Could that be an oxymoron? Nope. Contrary to what mainstream media often portrays (the Huxtables aside), every little black kid growing up in NYC or any ‘urban’ city for that matter during the 80’s and 90’s isn’t a scene from a Charles Dickens story. I love to reminisce on the pioneers of hip-hop, playing ‘it’ and being extremely excited about hearing the Mister Softee truck during the summer months.

So, I was grinning ear-to-ear when I learned that Reebok re-launched an entire collection of Freestyle kicks to commemorate the 25th Anniversary of the sneaker. WHAT?! Most of you reading this remember these sneakers as ‘fifty-four elevens’. For those of you out of the loop, the sneakers were given that nickname because that is exactly how much they cost with tax during their hey-day. In the 80’s to mid- 90’s, these sneakers were so popular that I believe they became and remain to be the highest selling women’s sneaker for Reebok - ever. (Please know that I did not fact-check that information.) They were sold in all of these yummy rainbow colors - I had a spearmint pair myself. Sometime in the late 90’s it became very passé to wear these sneakers however because they had become relegated to ‘young girls’ or dare I say ‘chickenheads’. But I am old enough to remember when and therefore really can appreciate this anniversary collection. Reebok went all out and is introducing a pair practically every month this year. I’m quite excited about the Basquiat pair. I might not be able to afford one of his paintings just yet but I can have a little bit of the visionary’s work on my kicks. Be sure to take the little quiz on the site http://www.rbk.com/us/freestyle/ to find out your sneaker-personality match. (Mine is Sheen.) Since I’m no longer 15, I rarely wear sneakers these days but I think any of these would be perfect worn with a pair of skinny jeans, a funky belt and a feminine, flirty top without appearing juvenile. Also, after viewing the website, you will see that the Freestyles no longer cost $54.11 even before tax. Just looking at these sneakers takes me back to a time when all I had to worry about was cleaning my room, doing my homework and eagerly finishing the latest Judy Blume or Sweet Valley High book. But as some wise person once said ‘Nothing is constant but change itself’.

Random Fun Fact: What’s always been really funny to me is that most people I know never actually paid $54.11 for their fifty-four elevens. You see, around my way (Southeast Queens) everyone copped their kicks from the Ave aka Jamaica Avenue and no one pays tax in most of the stores on the Ave. Every borough has a version of Jamaica Avenue by the way. Brooklyn has Fulton Street (Downtown), the Bronx has Fordham Road and Manhattan has 2-5th or 125th Street in Harlem. I don’t know what Staten Island has. Those kids from Shalin probably went to BK to get their sneaker shopping on.


Leave me a comment and let me know what your favorite memory of growing up in NY is.

R.I.P. Ryan