So there’s been a lot of talk this week about “self”. Who am I? What kind of person am I supposed to be in a particular situation? Does it matter what other people think? What does it mean to be yourself when you don’t know quite what your “self” is?
I have always prided myself on being myself even if its not what people like. I am used to never fitting in. I am the odd-ball. Haitian but American. Black but never quite fitting the mold. Girl but androgenous, not too girly. I am a walking duality. Am I making any sense? Should I blog about condoms instead? I searched high and low for non-lubricated DUREX condoms with AlexisT.com in the gay part of town yesterday evening to no avail. Only found lubricated ones and TROJANS (gross). Story of my life.
Sax is the perfect example of someone that is himself all the time. He wears functional clothing that contain little if no awareness of style at all. He wears DICKIES and novelty tees. There is no filter between his head and his mouth. He says what he wants. He does what he wants. He wears what he wants.
Colette: I want to buy you a new jacket.
Sax: Why? Check this out (On the N-train this morning. He turns to reveal “ROCAWEAR” emblazoned on the back his black jean jacket) Its hot.
Colette: But its not indicative of you…
Sax: Why, wouldn’t it be indicative of me?
Colette: Well… its just NOT indicative of ME.
Sax: Yeah, well that’s your problem then. This is me.
Despite my strong sense of self, I was raised to be cognizant of what people think. Wearing the right clothes and shoes. The right education. The right job. The right husband. Having excellent table manners as a sign of good breeding. Its cultural, a post colonial mentality. I reject what I was taught but at the same time it consumes me. Lex (latina) was raised similarily.
Lex: What’s that under your nose?
Colette: Its cream. My nose is dry. (I have sinusitis)
Lex: Well, you better wipe it. It looks like wetness or something. I’m just looking out for you.
MY AUNT, SISTER OR COUSIN WOULD HAVE DONE THE SAME THING. I DOUBT ANYONE ELSE WOULD HAVE.
Went to the book party last night with Lex, which she then blogged about this morning. I felt like I was on the set of “Metropolitan” or “Last Days of Disco”. In this case, the TITANS OF THE UPPER WEST met the NOUVELLE RICHES all the way downtown and the REBEL BLENDERS like myself and Lex stood watch on the periphery. Too much posturing for below Christopher st. I can see why one would seek coke as a defection from self.
THE REBEL BLENDER HIGHLIGHTS:
- ransacked the BR. took a handful of Kiehl’s lip gloss and Roger & Gallet soap (yummicoco’s secret ingredient for her underware drawer, Dear Reader)
- “let’s pretend to be in a deep conversation” Lex said as we tried not to stare too hard at Monica Lewinski or the hot lady with the short short skirt.
- wiggled around to Justin Timberlake and Prince while noshing on apps and sipping Ginger ale and Pellegrino(I like it with lime).
Then it came time to leave. Upon receiving our gift bags, my dorkdom revealed itself.
Colette: whoa, so cool.
We were given cool totebags containing cool shit. I was happy. We headed out the door.
Lex: you know, you could be cooler when getting a giftbag.
NOT AN EXACT QUOTE BUT SOMETHING LIKE THAT (my actress sister would have said the same thing)
Colette: Whatever. I’ve been going to industry parties long before you (despite raging dorkdom). Who cares?
Lex: whoa, you just put me in my place. give me a hug.
We hugged. Disfunction at its finest. Then we headed home.
BROWN BLOGGERS AT LAVA GINA SUNDAY APRIL 10th at 7pm.(google nichelle newsletter for info) SHOULD BE GREAT. GOING ROAD TRIPPING WITH LEX AND CREW THIS WEEKEND.