Christmas is my favourite holiday but it is also one of the more emotionally awkward holidays.
I’m going to be 30 years old next year. Just publicizing that fact feels awkward.
Every time I come across a scandal in fashion that involves a racist or gesture, I note that there is a standardized processing pattern.
I have the luxury of getting up every morning and being able to freely choose my clothing according to my personal style and how I feel.
Global news overwhelms me, but not acknowledging the world’s state of affairs makes me feel even more miserable.
I can’t attach a single label to my style, simply because it is dependent on too many factors.
At times I am reluctant to share my fascination with dancehall music in certain social settings.
Ever since I migrated, I have had a hard time breaking up with summer.
I ponder at times why we as Guyanese people are so reluctant to embrace parts of our culture.
I have been overwhelmed with the responsibilities of life, so much so that I have started to neglect my hair.
They say that you shouldn’t meet your idols as they almost always end up disappointing you.
It’s amazing how your interests and priorities shift as you grow older. Fashion month is passing through Milan as you read this and, believe it or not, I haven’t felt the urge to indulge in my usual swooning over the collections online.
Our consumption patterns are directly linked to our value system. No matter how we try to alter our perception of fashion, each time we consume it is directly linked to personal choice and a clear reflection of our politics and disposable income among other things.
I haven’t been to Sunday mass in quite a while. Living in Belgium, I failed miserably when it came to finding a church that held services in English.
Living ethically as it relates to fashion has always been seen as elitist and rightly so to an extent since ethical clothing tends to be very expensive.
Guyana’s oil find seems to be the main topic dominating the news these days and rightly so.
There are no words to express how it feels to move through a European city during Pride Week.
We may think that the current obsession of having our brows look a certain way is peculiar only to this era, but it isn’t.
I have never been remotely interested in celebrity designers, well Rihanna’s makeup line Fenty Beauty is an exception.
I don’t like to be disturbed when I’m fighting the patriarchy unconsciously, much less consciously.
I wrestle with the idea of personal style being alive and well in the 21st century.
When we think of weddings in 2018, we hardly ever think of the groom and much less the guests.
I can understand why people at times do not see discussing the sartorial choices of others as important; why it comes off as frivolous and shallow.
For as long as I can remember, I have stayed away from dark-coloured clothing.
I hate the word faux; especially when it comes before leather and fur.
My husband often says that society should advance in the direction where we move from having independent individual style to wearing uniforms.
I have had the song “Walking Trophy” by Hood Celebrity, real name Tina Pinnock, on repeat for the last two to three weeks.
I always question the idea of new trends. In this digital era, there is an immediacy – the internet allows fashion to transform, but it still feels like we have seen it all before and now more than ever.
I had promised myself that I wouldn’t get sucked into to the Royal Wedding hype, just as I didn’t when Kate and William got married but this one is hard to ignore because the optics resemble a true fairytale.
I often wrestle with the idea of whether I will raise my children under my religious beliefs which lean towards Anglican-Christian or that of my husband’s which is Orthodox Christian.
Fashion is probably the truest reflection of our economic status. It is a common ground that no human being can deny being part of even if they are genuinely disinterested in it.
Death is inevitable for all. Despite its inevitability, however, it always somehow manages to shock us in some way when it happens.
After 28 years on this earth, the first time I set foot in a gym was earlier this week.
Maybe it is the visuals—everyone I grew up with now has a baby—or the cheeky reminder by some that my biological clock is ticking, but now and more than ever, I find myself thinking of being a mother and the changes that will bring.
Representation matters and is necessary for the cultural and social inclusion of people from all walks of life.
Two days ago, I bought a single mango for €8, which works out to approximately $2,020 in Guyana currency.
Two weekends ago I visited Bordeaux with a girlfriend of mine from London.
I think that this is one of the most special eras in which to be a woman.
I feel unprepared to go see Black Panther at the cinema. Partially because I am in the middle of moving to a new house, but mostly because I think I can’t possibly come up with something appropriate to wear.
Every season, the fashion community tends to embrace a new pop-culture star as it does with models.
Purchasing beauty products and clothing inspired by celebrities has never been my thing.
Maybe it’s social media and feeling the need to constantly update feeds with click bait posts, or the psychological need for self-actualization but this era seems to be the one mostly involved in the social charge for all types of rights.
Fashion has always been seen and appreciated as a safe haven by those who felt isolated.
Once every month, I despise being a woman. Despite becoming like clockwork, my period always manages to turn me into the most moody and frightful person no matter how hard I try to manage my emotions.
After watching about ten different “Black Mirror” episodes in total from different seasons on Netflix, the idea that technology will eventually change us all seems disturbing and undesirable.
Perhaps you have grown tired of hearing it by now, but please allow me to extend well wishes to you and yours for the New Year.
As we prepare to say goodbye to 2017 we should probably consider not taking exhausted trends and terrible habits into 2018 with us.
I don’t think I have ever considered ageing to be a difficult and unglamorous aspect of life.
Guyana Carnival… I cringed the first time I came across the viral posters floating around Instagram.
Over the last two years my interest in pageants has dwindled. I have found them to be terribly Eurocentric and disempowering to women in general.