BODY MOVEMENT
So was this it? Was this what everything was for? The words rang through my mind as I set in my one bed room apartment with an upset Jamaican to the front of me and an old man to the right. I had to ask myself over and over again. Is this it? Where does this lead me and how is this even possible? So I began to write and I began to figure maybe there was something I missed in the midst of confusion surrounding my life for the past 5 years. It was a blur and the person's involved were me, myself and I. I had come to a place of out of body movement. There was no direction to go here and get inspired, speak to this person, talk to that person, go there. It was just still! A stillness that encompassed a place of unfamiliar territory. As I GPS this job I didn't want I noticed I would be waiting 2 1/2 hours to work a 9 hour shift and I fell. I fell deeper into who is this person and what did you do with Chanel? Did you bury her, did she disappear? Is she no longer available? See the Chanel I knew, no maybe the one I know or maybe the one I thought was present would never on a rainy day wear a pair of sweatpants and actually not be cleaning her bathroom let alone go outside. But, wait however, wait excuse me... I don't think that's the introduction to saying who is this person that has my eyes, my face, my body but not my soul. Where did my soul go? So I wrote.
Hi! I'm SPEAK and if you would have asked me 5 years ago where I would be it would have been an easy answer New York with an amazing fur coat that was bigger then my body and carrying my laptop sipping my coffee in a cafe writing for VOGUE. I'm sure your thinking I would be writing about everyone else fahions and what they wore and where they wore it to. You are a tad bit correct however I wanted to create my own lane at VOGUE when fashion school was the only thing in my mind and actually having a boyfriend went like this. "Hi", him "Hey" me "I have a free weekend lets go out". Him "okay we're taking a cab and I'll meet you downtown". That's literally how the night began and ended with PS... I think I like you today maybe not next week. The music just stopped, how annoying! I am officially listening to Goapele's Full Album on YouTube, lately the place I have been looking for an answer to what the hell happened. I think it's safe to say something went wrong and a detour surely happened. Let's update this situation.
Well for starter I actually have not been wearing make up, not by choice but by pocket change. I wish I could add a laugh out loud however this is serious people. Emergency 911 and all the sheriff's in the fashion department are surely on my case. Secondly I actually wore flats! I know right, Chanel Denise Chambers wore a flat shoe. So let's get something clear, that is not normal. Maybe to the rest of the world but to me it is surely a WTF. And yes I said the new language of the millennium that doesn't spell out the word as a polite way of saying what we mean however being kind enough that we don't actually present the brutal truth of the nasty word. Third for the past 5 years I have been as nice as possible excusing other people's fashion as a result of what I've been going through. In the best way of saying it is I actually talked to those um t-shirt and jean but it looks really bad people. Let's face it, my mind obviously was lost. So we have to find this for mankind or else I'll actually buy denim other then a high waist short to wear with an awesomely hot leather jacket and my biker heels. My signature me with my Wolford stocking and shades. Yes I am that girl that has chains hanging from the only denim I agree to on the face of earth, a fringed short with hot stockings and an over sized jacket only. Here is another PSA I wore pants! PANTS! Maybe for the rest of man kind pants are acceptable however not in my world. I mean I wore white during my lady time because I felt I knew I was clean and fine, so pants.... Hell froze over and obviously the fashion GODS went on vacation and decided to not take me with them. It is that real.
It's been years since I wrote my last anything. Entry, column, blog, thought or insert. If you've ever read my writings you'd know I write exactly what I'm thinking, feeling, can't say out loud and I aim for you to feel exactly where I am. So let's just say I didn't head to NY as the original plan I ended up with some horribly hair styled people in Florida excited they're swap shop fashions actually got them a hello. The tragedy of it all was I was so poor I had to pretend I actually was happy. I mean for crying out loud guys with tank tops as outfits and not properly groomed beards were actually in a position to say something and based on where I was in life I actually heard it. Public Service Announcement bad outfits and colognes open up your hearing, or maybe I was so high in life I never took notice to these whatever they are called. What I will say is this, this is no where near VOGUE or the hot desk with the overly hot neighbor that I purposely run into to eventually become an item with the perfect moment of 1:00 am come over and cuddle and we can leave for work in the morning. Excuse my language, it is the "oh hell no" don't leave your apartment, he actually takes the bus and his nails are filthy and where are his teeth and what the hell is going on with his hair and no don't ever put on an open toe shoe and not be breaking bricks type of neighboring situation. So I have to scream, "COME ON, GIVE ME A BREAK!"
I mean fashion school turned the building across the street has no windows and a fashion look is obviously from the same store as everyone else. Needless to say body movement is extremely tense. Like starch on those denim jeans after not washing and wearing. A clear RED FLAG of not suppose to be here. HELP! HELP! HELP! I see his under arm hair and he's talking to me. Wait, I have under arm hair and no wax appointment that accepts my wine when I come in. RUN!!!! Yes it is that serious. My bed has been my hiding spot because somehow these people start talking to me. They never said anything to me when I was on a clear mission to have my iced coffee and schedule as hectic as my eyelash separation routine at 3 am. You know that type of dedication. The last time my eyes felt a Christian Dior Blackout Jet Black blink I think there was a Bush in office. Yes this is real! I actually can get dressed in 10 minutes. That is unheard of. I know for models it's a compliment however I love taking my time and getting things together for me. If you are wondering why I am going on an obvious tantrum it is because this is a well deserved someone save me moment. Yes I am the black Lois Lane looking for Superman and he obviously did not get the memo. So I figured it was time I sent it via this message.
Somehow or another I befriended puff coat wearing females that actually considered just wearing a lip balm as an actual outfit attire. Like they literally don't know how to do any makeup. And they don't wear heels they compare those flat shoe things. I must've been desperate. No let's face it I was obviously confused. You want to know how those situations turned out, they actually wanted to fight. Like fist fights. Can you believe that, full on fist to face. This amazingly blushed face. That's what I get for trading in my Matte lips for trying to be down to earth. Um, that is not a compliment anymore. The people down to earth actually tell me to throw things on! They told me to throw something on. Like actually here is what was said, "Chanel you can just throw that on and we can go somewhere." Now I am not for everyone I will tell you that. If you are the girl that thinks sweat pants aren't for studying, cleaning, working out, taking out the trash or around the house I'm going to tell you right now. Good bye! If you are a female that thinks heels are a special occasion then I will warn you, your offense will be hit. If you are a female that thinks natural beauty with a embroider gown is considered hot, excuse me, wrong page. I think you should turn because I am not talking to you and you won't understand the urgency because in your world that is perfect. Nice meeting you and thanks for reading however have a good day. But if you are my kind of girl then you will understand that I am absolutely dying. This is a slow painful death. It started with the guy that thought a du-rag was actually made for outside the house and ended with the female that explained her natural beauty complimented us as a culture. She also somehow thought I cared that she didn't understand highlight and how it did nothing for that horrible jaw line that could have clearly used some contour, blush and a hint of bronze. The denial is real. Lastly it smells like the back of a drug addicts hand with the high after smell of tobacco. You know the kind that when they talk you smell it on there breath and if they borrow a jacket it keeps your closet smelling like you like bottom shelf liquor even in your home. Get the picture. Good! Save me! The pocket of a denim with tank top cigarette butt left pant scent is constantly creeping in my apartment as if that is Jo Malone's new scent.
Do I need to go any further or do you get the picture? Let me remind you I worked for Nordstrom, Bloomingdale's, BEBE, AKIRA and other places. So I am literally freaking out as if this smell I hate is somehow attached to me. Needless to say it smells like the guy who buys his date outfit from Burlington Coat Factory and picks you up in his car that your skirt can't fit in the front seat. I have come to find out BMW coupe's are uncomfortable and annoying. I had to actually crouch my feet and I didn't even have a normal attire for me on. I'm a floor length for a Monday to the office kinda girl. Like some one's going out outfit is a simple let's have wine in the house and watch back to back episodes of Scream Queens and talk boy problems type of girl. Right now I have on pj's of my mama's. I blame it on the first time I became friends with a person that convinced me to go to a thrift store. Let's face it, I'm not that girl and became friends with people that actually thought going to house parties that weren't mansions was cool. I mean it. I should have just been a bitch, Yes I said it! Let me tell you something do not try and conform yourself for people in hopes of not offending them so they can be your friends. I will tell you let them go. Seriously because what happens from experience is you start taking their fashion advice and you actually begin meeting people they know and thinking well maybe something is wrong with me. The fact is no it's not, they just aren't your type and there is nothing wrong with that.
I'll say it the world wants everyone to get along and here is the deal you don't have to like everyone and you surely don't have to want to be friends with everyone just to be a good person. You can say no you wear sweatpants like its an outfit. Your not working and your not actually working out, you bought them like they are cute. So what I have come to realize, you get what you settle for and it becomes your fault. She might like a great deal on a tacky dress. Does not mean you have to be friends with her. That is exactly what happened. To the point a woman handed me a cigarette as an offering of connecting and I almost lost my dang on mind. I'm not talking the fashion designer CHANEL cigarette signature jacket, I'm talking that thing that makes your bag, purse, clutch stink after putting it in your stuff. Another thing, leave people alone that say your overdressed. What I start realizing is I completely changed who I was to make everyone else feel like they were comfortable and the fact is I was looking damn good so oh well. They should've tried harder and I literally start conforming to have friends to the point I realized we were never supposed to be friends from the start. Honey I am a lot! I believe gym shoes are exactly as they are spelled, gym shoes. For the gym. That's my style. Someone else does not have to agree but what happened is this, people felt nervous because they felt like my effort was a distraction. The fact of the matter is I spent enough on what I bought for it to be a distraction. They wanted to be comfortable to shy away from attention because they didn't feel good about themselves and I felt gorgeous and pretty so the attention didn't bother me. I love attention from the right people. Men complimenting me and girl's coming to sit next to me and being friends for that moment was normal. For them they had to actually get to know the person and all this other stuff. They didn't go out and when they did they would sit and say a woman who looked amazing was "doing to much" then I realized I start hanging out with average females. The looks were average, the makeup was average, it was average. I'm a stylist, been a stylist since I was 17 years old when I say average I mean the New Year's Eve look could have been what I wore to work because I was late. I mean it and I realized the more I conformed the more I hated who I was. I didn't want to go places because people would just look normal. I don't like normal. I actually can't stand normal. Then I start meeting guys who would say baby be yourself, just wear a t-shirt it's okay. I'm thinking what do you mean that's okay? I am being myself and this is to much for you so good bye.
Everything changed and I don't like it. So what's next? First thing first, I have no clue! To move as far away from average as I can.
I'll talk to you later!
Check out my music snippets!
SPEAK
Hi! I'm SPEAK and if you would have asked me 5 years ago where I would be it would have been an easy answer New York with an amazing fur coat that was bigger then my body and carrying my laptop sipping my coffee in a cafe writing for VOGUE. I'm sure your thinking I would be writing about everyone else fahions and what they wore and where they wore it to. You are a tad bit correct however I wanted to create my own lane at VOGUE when fashion school was the only thing in my mind and actually having a boyfriend went like this. "Hi", him "Hey" me "I have a free weekend lets go out". Him "okay we're taking a cab and I'll meet you downtown". That's literally how the night began and ended with PS... I think I like you today maybe not next week. The music just stopped, how annoying! I am officially listening to Goapele's Full Album on YouTube, lately the place I have been looking for an answer to what the hell happened. I think it's safe to say something went wrong and a detour surely happened. Let's update this situation.
Well for starter I actually have not been wearing make up, not by choice but by pocket change. I wish I could add a laugh out loud however this is serious people. Emergency 911 and all the sheriff's in the fashion department are surely on my case. Secondly I actually wore flats! I know right, Chanel Denise Chambers wore a flat shoe. So let's get something clear, that is not normal. Maybe to the rest of the world but to me it is surely a WTF. And yes I said the new language of the millennium that doesn't spell out the word as a polite way of saying what we mean however being kind enough that we don't actually present the brutal truth of the nasty word. Third for the past 5 years I have been as nice as possible excusing other people's fashion as a result of what I've been going through. In the best way of saying it is I actually talked to those um t-shirt and jean but it looks really bad people. Let's face it, my mind obviously was lost. So we have to find this for mankind or else I'll actually buy denim other then a high waist short to wear with an awesomely hot leather jacket and my biker heels. My signature me with my Wolford stocking and shades. Yes I am that girl that has chains hanging from the only denim I agree to on the face of earth, a fringed short with hot stockings and an over sized jacket only. Here is another PSA I wore pants! PANTS! Maybe for the rest of man kind pants are acceptable however not in my world. I mean I wore white during my lady time because I felt I knew I was clean and fine, so pants.... Hell froze over and obviously the fashion GODS went on vacation and decided to not take me with them. It is that real.
It's been years since I wrote my last anything. Entry, column, blog, thought or insert. If you've ever read my writings you'd know I write exactly what I'm thinking, feeling, can't say out loud and I aim for you to feel exactly where I am. So let's just say I didn't head to NY as the original plan I ended up with some horribly hair styled people in Florida excited they're swap shop fashions actually got them a hello. The tragedy of it all was I was so poor I had to pretend I actually was happy. I mean for crying out loud guys with tank tops as outfits and not properly groomed beards were actually in a position to say something and based on where I was in life I actually heard it. Public Service Announcement bad outfits and colognes open up your hearing, or maybe I was so high in life I never took notice to these whatever they are called. What I will say is this, this is no where near VOGUE or the hot desk with the overly hot neighbor that I purposely run into to eventually become an item with the perfect moment of 1:00 am come over and cuddle and we can leave for work in the morning. Excuse my language, it is the "oh hell no" don't leave your apartment, he actually takes the bus and his nails are filthy and where are his teeth and what the hell is going on with his hair and no don't ever put on an open toe shoe and not be breaking bricks type of neighboring situation. So I have to scream, "COME ON, GIVE ME A BREAK!"
I mean fashion school turned the building across the street has no windows and a fashion look is obviously from the same store as everyone else. Needless to say body movement is extremely tense. Like starch on those denim jeans after not washing and wearing. A clear RED FLAG of not suppose to be here. HELP! HELP! HELP! I see his under arm hair and he's talking to me. Wait, I have under arm hair and no wax appointment that accepts my wine when I come in. RUN!!!! Yes it is that serious. My bed has been my hiding spot because somehow these people start talking to me. They never said anything to me when I was on a clear mission to have my iced coffee and schedule as hectic as my eyelash separation routine at 3 am. You know that type of dedication. The last time my eyes felt a Christian Dior Blackout Jet Black blink I think there was a Bush in office. Yes this is real! I actually can get dressed in 10 minutes. That is unheard of. I know for models it's a compliment however I love taking my time and getting things together for me. If you are wondering why I am going on an obvious tantrum it is because this is a well deserved someone save me moment. Yes I am the black Lois Lane looking for Superman and he obviously did not get the memo. So I figured it was time I sent it via this message.
Somehow or another I befriended puff coat wearing females that actually considered just wearing a lip balm as an actual outfit attire. Like they literally don't know how to do any makeup. And they don't wear heels they compare those flat shoe things. I must've been desperate. No let's face it I was obviously confused. You want to know how those situations turned out, they actually wanted to fight. Like fist fights. Can you believe that, full on fist to face. This amazingly blushed face. That's what I get for trading in my Matte lips for trying to be down to earth. Um, that is not a compliment anymore. The people down to earth actually tell me to throw things on! They told me to throw something on. Like actually here is what was said, "Chanel you can just throw that on and we can go somewhere." Now I am not for everyone I will tell you that. If you are the girl that thinks sweat pants aren't for studying, cleaning, working out, taking out the trash or around the house I'm going to tell you right now. Good bye! If you are a female that thinks heels are a special occasion then I will warn you, your offense will be hit. If you are a female that thinks natural beauty with a embroider gown is considered hot, excuse me, wrong page. I think you should turn because I am not talking to you and you won't understand the urgency because in your world that is perfect. Nice meeting you and thanks for reading however have a good day. But if you are my kind of girl then you will understand that I am absolutely dying. This is a slow painful death. It started with the guy that thought a du-rag was actually made for outside the house and ended with the female that explained her natural beauty complimented us as a culture. She also somehow thought I cared that she didn't understand highlight and how it did nothing for that horrible jaw line that could have clearly used some contour, blush and a hint of bronze. The denial is real. Lastly it smells like the back of a drug addicts hand with the high after smell of tobacco. You know the kind that when they talk you smell it on there breath and if they borrow a jacket it keeps your closet smelling like you like bottom shelf liquor even in your home. Get the picture. Good! Save me! The pocket of a denim with tank top cigarette butt left pant scent is constantly creeping in my apartment as if that is Jo Malone's new scent.
Do I need to go any further or do you get the picture? Let me remind you I worked for Nordstrom, Bloomingdale's, BEBE, AKIRA and other places. So I am literally freaking out as if this smell I hate is somehow attached to me. Needless to say it smells like the guy who buys his date outfit from Burlington Coat Factory and picks you up in his car that your skirt can't fit in the front seat. I have come to find out BMW coupe's are uncomfortable and annoying. I had to actually crouch my feet and I didn't even have a normal attire for me on. I'm a floor length for a Monday to the office kinda girl. Like some one's going out outfit is a simple let's have wine in the house and watch back to back episodes of Scream Queens and talk boy problems type of girl. Right now I have on pj's of my mama's. I blame it on the first time I became friends with a person that convinced me to go to a thrift store. Let's face it, I'm not that girl and became friends with people that actually thought going to house parties that weren't mansions was cool. I mean it. I should have just been a bitch, Yes I said it! Let me tell you something do not try and conform yourself for people in hopes of not offending them so they can be your friends. I will tell you let them go. Seriously because what happens from experience is you start taking their fashion advice and you actually begin meeting people they know and thinking well maybe something is wrong with me. The fact is no it's not, they just aren't your type and there is nothing wrong with that.
I'll say it the world wants everyone to get along and here is the deal you don't have to like everyone and you surely don't have to want to be friends with everyone just to be a good person. You can say no you wear sweatpants like its an outfit. Your not working and your not actually working out, you bought them like they are cute. So what I have come to realize, you get what you settle for and it becomes your fault. She might like a great deal on a tacky dress. Does not mean you have to be friends with her. That is exactly what happened. To the point a woman handed me a cigarette as an offering of connecting and I almost lost my dang on mind. I'm not talking the fashion designer CHANEL cigarette signature jacket, I'm talking that thing that makes your bag, purse, clutch stink after putting it in your stuff. Another thing, leave people alone that say your overdressed. What I start realizing is I completely changed who I was to make everyone else feel like they were comfortable and the fact is I was looking damn good so oh well. They should've tried harder and I literally start conforming to have friends to the point I realized we were never supposed to be friends from the start. Honey I am a lot! I believe gym shoes are exactly as they are spelled, gym shoes. For the gym. That's my style. Someone else does not have to agree but what happened is this, people felt nervous because they felt like my effort was a distraction. The fact of the matter is I spent enough on what I bought for it to be a distraction. They wanted to be comfortable to shy away from attention because they didn't feel good about themselves and I felt gorgeous and pretty so the attention didn't bother me. I love attention from the right people. Men complimenting me and girl's coming to sit next to me and being friends for that moment was normal. For them they had to actually get to know the person and all this other stuff. They didn't go out and when they did they would sit and say a woman who looked amazing was "doing to much" then I realized I start hanging out with average females. The looks were average, the makeup was average, it was average. I'm a stylist, been a stylist since I was 17 years old when I say average I mean the New Year's Eve look could have been what I wore to work because I was late. I mean it and I realized the more I conformed the more I hated who I was. I didn't want to go places because people would just look normal. I don't like normal. I actually can't stand normal. Then I start meeting guys who would say baby be yourself, just wear a t-shirt it's okay. I'm thinking what do you mean that's okay? I am being myself and this is to much for you so good bye.
Everything changed and I don't like it. So what's next? First thing first, I have no clue! To move as far away from average as I can.
I'll talk to you later!
Check out my music snippets!
This is awesome please write more.
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