Kanye Wants Multiracial Models and I Want Us To Not Give a Damn
By us — I mean Black women. No, not the ones who are black but, not really. I mean the ones who look like me — Straight Outta Africa. There is no trace of Native American ancestry or strains of slavery that automatically regulates hair strands into manageably wooly crowns of evidence that they barely passed the test.
The test that separates the ordinary from the extraordinarily exotic types.
There are a plethora of testimonies from various outlets of interest that illustrate all the reasons why dark-skinned black women with broad noses and rounded chins seem to be downplayed and rejected as beacons of beauty on a national and global scale. Couple that with the racial strife permeating through the orifices of our existence and you can totally get why any purposed misstep in the landscape of political correctness — will warrant a slew of tutorials aimed at schooling the clueless back to their sensibilities.
Black women are gorgeous and deserve to be recognized as such. Even if you don’t quite see it — pretend that you do for the sake of our bruised egos. Melanin is the word of 2016. Instagram is brimming with images featuring women of all sizes — posing in accordance with the need to convince naysayers that their skin tone isn’t an unfortunate combustion of watercolors.
The heat almost comes to a boil with every scroll.
As an African woman with medium-brown skin — I never questioned why I wasn’t blessed with green eyes, silky hair and a mastered hue that resembles an over-watered version of cafe latte. My dating life never suffered and it’s quite possible that I could’ve experienced bigotry in ways that were never obvious to me — but thankfully I always remained in the dark.
No pun intended.
While I acknowledge the prejudice levied on regular Black girls at the hands of Black men and beyond — I definitely feel the need to change the narrative — and this latest shit with Kanye West and his damn fashion show is the best way to interject my cease and desist letter of frustration.
The prolific rapper and burgeoning fashion designer is trying to stage his upcoming Yeezy Season 4 fashion show in NYC. Naturally he posted a casting call for models. This wouldn’t be a big deal but his requirements were met with raged fury.
He wants multiracial women with no makeup.
The twitterverse went into overdrive as users proclaimed Yeezy a bust and basically accused him of once again selling out to the notion that only biracial women are worthy of his attention and fantastically bland garments. Truth be told — Jay-Z’s former protege has never been publicly paired with a Black woman that fits that true description.
The anger definitely stems from the realization that when Black men make good — they tend to prefer women who guarantee offsprings that won’t mirror their own less-refined features. This can only happen if they lay down with White women or better.
In other words, if I am hoping to land an athlete or a guy who spits out verses like an uncanny pro — I will be waiting a mighty long time.
This doesn’t mean that I am inferior to the global settings of beauty — it just proves that mankind has a warped vision of what is and what should be. Clearly, this practice of incoherency isn’t ending anytime soon. The best way to combat the symptoms is to be armed with a shield of nonchalance.
It also helps to consider other motives.
Kanye is an artist. He has every right to configure his show in the manner that fits his overall presentation. Despite the historical pummeling of dark-skinned Black women with nappy hair — we can’t submit to the trap of continuously cursing ourselves whenever a Black man turns to other vices.
We need to stop giving a damn.
Maybe his cute mini-me — North West is the inspiration for his latest production — she sure does fit the description. Or we can blame his futuristic tendencies. It’s also possible that multiracial doesn’t rule out the slew of dark-skinned women who are mixed with all sorts — but don’t sport the light skin and sleek jet-black hair.
Or, we can entertain the possibility that he honestly believes his space-age wear will look way more dope on the backs of women that sport an ambiguously fashionable template.
Either way — I don’t give a fuck and neither should you.
Aren’t we tired of begging and bitching? Isn’t it time to focus on the battles worth the weight of energy and adherence?
Enough with the “angry black woman” who keeps getting screwed over and over again. The loud voices that try to bring the niggas to task overrun my timeline but, the lasting effects produce very little comfort.
We need to stop giving the power to detractors and celebrate all the ways that we are the best kept secret that only those who deserve us have permission to uncover.
We don’t need to be invited to the party because the guests are common folk. We already have everything we need to be flawlessly decadent. If you don’t believe me — take a look at before and after shots of White women who have spent thousands of dollars to mimic the very attributes that supposedly keep us out of the game and rooted on the sidelines.
I like being stationed there. The view is both entertaining and deliciously ironic. When you have it all you don’t sweat the small stuff or the little people.
And you absolutely don’t give a damn. If you’re not there yet — I will wait. There’s plenty of room up here.
