My friend called me her favorite Oreo.

“You know,” she said, “black on the outside, white on the inside.”

I gaped at her, trying to figure out what I could possibly say to that. She thought she was genuinely complimenting me. I mean, I don’t even like Oreos.

We had just gotten our SAT scores back and I had done really well, surprising even myself at how much knowledge cramming I had retained. But apparently my friend thought scoring well on a standardized test is something that doesn’t fit with the black race. I just changed the subject because I didn’t want to seem touchy or like a drama queen, but instances like these have happened to me so many times. I’m fed up!

Do I get classified as an Oreo because I’m a voracious reader (apparently all those SAT flashcards paid off)? Or because I might seem reserved when you first meet me? Or is because of one of the other billion facets of my personality? Yes, I would seriously contemplate selling my soul to be front and center at a Lil Wayne concert, but I also can’t help but belt out Taylor Swift songs when they come on the radio. Toni Morrison and Zora Neale Hurston both have works on my list of favorite literature, as do Shakespeare and Jodi Picoult. Oh, and if you see me out dancing, I might be bouncing around to the latest hip hop song, but I could just as easily be showing off some complicated salsa step I learned during the two years that I took salsa classes. Read More »

I love flats. I practically wear them every day and to all occasions. I can’t even remember what I used to wear before I started slipping on those cute and comfy babies. Wait, yes I do. It was sneakers (love my Chucks), but I had to find something else after I realized that old school Nikes are not acceptable for all occasions. Like job interviews.

And now Adidas has taken my two favorite forms of footwear and morphed them into one mega shoe: the Gazelle Ballerina. Not to quote Miley Cyrus or Hannah Montana or whoever she chooses to be today, but you do get the best of both worlds with these shoes. Revel in the cuteness and convenience of a flat and the stylishness and comfort of a sneaker with its rubber outsole for added support.

So if, unlike the Spice Girls, you’ve got a little Posh and a little Sporty to ya, these shoes are your perfect match. And if you find yourself running from parties when campus security shows up, these are probably right for you too. It’s those girls in the stilettos that always get caught.

[I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not the epitome of prim and proper- heck, who really is nowadays? But looking around at the misguided youths of today *ahem drinking buddies*, I’m starting to think that Miss Manners might have been onto something.

While you may never need to know how to greet a duke or how to tell which fork is REALLY the oyster fork, knowing how to deal with people whom owe you money, how much to tip, and how to address the ever annoying licorice-in-teeth conundrum without being rude might actually come in handy in the real world. I'm not trying to be your mother - oh goodness, no - I'm just here to help you out of those little etiquette dilemmas. So here goes: a quick lesson in etiquette. The sh*t you might actually need to know]

One of my oldest childhood friends is getting married this Saturday and, quite frankly, I am horrified by the thought of attending his wedding. Not that I have anything against the lovebirds; on the contrary, I’m glad he’s happy. It’s just, well… I never know how to act at weddings. There are just too many unspoken rules, too many unanswered questions: What do I wear? Black? White? Should I go casual or dressy? What do I bring? Who do I bring? Can I bring someone? And so on.

It’s enough to keep you from going to the blasted wedding at all. Well, I’m here to speak those rules and answer those questions. Buckle up my lovelies…

Dress code:
Can I wear white? NO! Never, ever wear white to a wedding.

What about black? Yes, black is perfectly acceptable at weddings. In fact, most people do. As long as you keep from looking like part of a funeral procession, you should be fine. Read More »

Beach days are over, flip flops have been thrown to the back of the closet, and our skin has gotten so dry our resemble a reptile. Hello, winter!

We might be feverishly counting down the days to summer, but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy December, January, and February. Hey — at least they’re not as rainy as March (usually). The next time you start cursing because you can’t feel your fingers…or toes…or face… reflect on some of the best winter offerings. Besides, if it was sunny and warm year round, we’d have to be perpetually ready to don a bikini. Read More »

The stinky, fly ridden pile o’ publishing house shame continues to grow as another “remarkable” memoir is exposed as being a big fat fake. Last week it came out that Misha Defonseca’s Misha: A Mémoire of the Holocaust Years was in fact written by a woman named Monique De Wael and was, in actuality, a total, ghostwritten, lie.

This week, it was revealed that Margaret B. Jones, a half-white, half-Indian orphan who grew up amongst gangbangers other unsavories in South Central LA was actually Sherman Oaks-bred white woman Margaret Seltzer (known to friends as Peggy) and her critically acclaimed “memoir” Love and Consequences was completely fabricated.

She claims, naturally, that many of the stories in her “memoir” came from her experience working with real, live gangsters (how scary!) in Los Angeles.

In an interview with the New York Times, Ms. Seltzer (which conjures to mind the whitest of white bottled waters) claims, tearfully, “I was in a position where at one point people said you should speak for us because nobody else is going to let us in to talk. Maybe it’s an ego thing — I don’t know. I just felt that there was good that I could do and there was no other way that someone would listen to it.” Read More »

Sometimes, when I go out with my boyfriend in public, people stare…and stare…and stare. Unfortunately, it’s not because I’m drop-dead gorgeous or because my boyfriend is a total stud (although to me he is). It’s because his skin is brown and mine is white.

Before I go any further, I’m going to offer up a disclaimer: a lot of people don’t stare. Most people don’t even give a second look. And I don’t assume that those who do are staring only because we’re an interracial couple…but it sure does seem the most likely reason.

Honestly, when I started dating him, I was expecting the most conservative of the conservative white folk to be the ones who stared. As much as we’re living in the 21st century here, interracial relationships are still a little too futuristic for some people.

So imagine my surprise when it turned out to be all the Indians who stared. Read More »

Everyone knows that the fashion industry can be bitchy, but now there are reports that it actually might be racist.

UK magazine The Independent recently ran an article about the lack of black and minority models on the runway.

Dee Doocey, a former fashion manager who’s currently campaigning for diversity on the catwalk says she can’t remember “being sent a model who wasn’t white,” during her days in the field “I don’t know if it’s racism, or just the fashion industry languishing in the doldrums”, Doocey continues, “but it needs to change. Agencies only seem interested in leggy white blonde girls.”

While none-white people make up about “30 percent” of London’s population, they “don’t even make up 1 percent of the models”, a ratio that sounds like it might have a reflection in America as well.

One managing director at a London agency that specializes in ethnically diverse models illustrated the crux of the problem by explaining her difficulty in getting work for her black models.

“The racism you come across is not underlying, it’s blatant” she reveals, going on to say that “People will say things like ‘Don’t send any more black models’, and one designer even said black people didn’t suit his clothes. And we’re not talking about small designers here; it’s all the big ones.” Read More »