Do What You Want When You're Popping

A few new developments:
1. I just started fashion school.
2. I cut my own bangs a day before school started. (I have no idea if my hair will stand the constant heat.)
3. Real life is hard.

Things that have not changed:
1. Shirts are still being worn backwards, cardigans still double as V-neck tops.
2. I still only own one belt.
3. Real life is hard.

Shirt: Identity | Skirt: Mr Price

(Above is my first day of school outfit. I left my house in such a panic (late as always) and didn't notice that my prints weren't matching up in colour.)

Part of me is completely thrilled to have a reason to wear makeup every day, plan outfits the night before that I scrap each morning and actually take my hair out of its bun every morning. This part feeds into my general new beginnings, new life excitement where I'm meeting new people, creating memories and making new friends every single day. But, wow, it's exhausting being a real person.

As much as I enjoy already having a signature everyday makeup look and wearing clothes that were meant for growing, teenage girl bodies, I am so tired. Orientation Week was only three days but I feel like I've just trained for and complete the Comrade's Marathon. I am very ready to retire. I also like to dig my own grave by being my most adult self by deciding to visit the latest Museum of African Design exhibition last Thursday night. I put aside my school/real-life fatigue to enjoy walking around the gallery in a pencil skirt and discussing mise-en-scene and drinking dry white wine.

The exhibit was really cool, by the way. Unfortunately my camera died two minutes in and I couldn't capture the magic of the Angolian art on display. I do suggest that anyone in Joburg makes a visit quick, quick.

Cardigan: thrifted | Skirt: Mr Price | Socks: Factorie | Bag and Creepers: somewhere in Istanbul | Harness: Glitter Betty

For my second day of school, before I got home in this black-and-red ensemble, I wore a nondescript green t-shirt and high-waist short-shorts. I remembered that morning that I was meant to be trying minimalism out for a while. And once again it came out hella basic.

Romper: Mr Price | Harness: Glitter Betty | Belt: my dad | Jewelry: Glitter Betty | Socks: Mr Price

Day/morning three was hard on account of my having been out the night before and only coming home in the AMs (but side note: how cool am I now) (hahaha, still not very cool, I know). I wore this romper which was almost my uniform in December just because of how easy it was to wear and dress up/down.

Upon looking at these photos, I realized I was very barely trying out  a new aesthetic but updating something I'd already done before (bangs, backwards shirts, high hemlines).

 Anyway, I should probably be preparing for school or whatever tomorrow.
Also, I think I deserve major daps for not titling this post "This Ain't High School" or including Nicki Minaj's High School or Beyoncé's Schooling Life.

When You Do Have the Juice Like That

"Omg, khensani, are those swimming trunks? u r so creative!"
Hahaha, no, peasant. I'm just broke and always twenty minutes late to everything.

Fashioning short shorts out of your brother's too, too big swimming trunks will seem like a really clever idea when you're left with two minutes to get ready before having to head out. You'll tell yourself that your colour palette is so on point and you've just extended your wardrobe by another item for absolutely free, thereby creating a whole new plethora of outfit choices for the summer (which, you seem to keep forgetting, is almost over). You'll pair your cute new shorts with a thrifted button up shirt in your favourite shades of blue ("ah, look at how well they go together," you'll remark, "this was meant to be"), slip into the pink Pull & Bear trainers you're always wearing and never washing and throw a wink at the mirror before you leave with your thrifted jacket and the remaining trophies of almost-responsible-nights-out-when-you-didn't-lose-everything on your wrists and fingers.

You good-looking fool, you.

You're going to regret all of this when the hair-ties holding your shorts up keep getting lost, the drawstring of aforementioned shorts keeps giving up on you and your shirt exploding outwards and forwards, and don't even get me started on what a burden that jacket will become to you on the dance floor. I hope the compliments were worth all the anguish.

Jacket: Better Half Vintage // Top: Glitter Betty // Shorts: somewhere in the Seychelles // Shoes: Pull & Bear // Rings: [the store formerly known as] Sass Diva, Mr Price, LEGIT and a really nice old Turkish women in Osmonbey // Choker: Glitter Betty //

this is me thinking about how much easier my life could've been if I had just worn some jeans.

♡I'm not offline, I blocked you, asshole.♡ from 9arbage on 8tracks Radio.

Has anyone else made some terrible choices for the sake of letting your look live?

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All I Want for My Birthday is a Big Booty Ho

Birthday Wishlist 2015 by khenzonatalia

Can you still want a big booty ho when you're already one? Well, in between stints as a cranky, 70 year old man burdened by back pain and the memories of better times, anyway. I can't say I am all that crazy about being another step closer to not being a teenager anymore (and this is my last year of Forever according to the school system and Tavi). I am, however, trying to console this drying valley of bones with the notion that in five years, I'll only be 22 and that means I'm still pretty young. "Think of all the people who will be eighty-three in five years," I tell myself. "You've still got the world at your fingertips." I say. "Stop yelling at the kids loitering on our lawn," my brother exclaims.

To get in the elderly birthday spirit, I made a little Polyvore wishlist. Man, I haven't done one of these in a while. Mostly because it will take about seven months to three years before I actually get anything off of it. May I redirect you to this wishlist I made on the 23rd of August, TWENTY THIRTEEN. I have only recently acquired the wide brim hat, Celine tote, platform trainers and jelly sandals. It is now Star Date: WAY TOO FREAKIN' LATE.

But it's OK because today, I've made a new wishlist.

1. THIGH HIGH BOOTS (or anything leather and over-the-knee)
   In all my dreams of the cool teenager I'd grow into as a sapling, they always involved thigh-high, leather boots with a pointed toe and simple court heel that would erase all evidence of skin on my legs. They would be paired Lucy Liu in Charlie's Angels style with a leather pencil skirt and a hot boyfriend. Oh, kids and their crazy dreams.
2. FLARED/BOOTCUT PANTS/JEANS
   Don't @ me. I could just really do with a good pair of bright orange flared trousers or wax denim in the bootcut with a side of fries and skipping calf day at the gym.
3. OBNOXIOUSLY LUXURIOUS BRIGHTLY COLOURED SHAGGY FAUX FUR JACKETS BECAUSE I AM COOKIE LYON AND THE STREETS AINT MADE FOR EVERYBODY
4. PHARRELL x ADIDAS SUPERCOLOUR
   I remember when I was in primary school and my sister was on the cusp of adolescence how she and her friends were ready to commit murder for some kicks with the rubber shell toe, the famous trio of stripes and the automatic implied gang$ta status. Pharrell's range comes in over 50 colours and I want every colour. Imagine being able to match your shoes to anything from your lipstick, eyeshadow, hair, car, lack of ambition and soul. Every day.
5. A NEW iPHONE
   My iPhone and I are at a bit of a standpoint right now. After two glorious years together, it could no longer take all the accidental slips, trips and falls and the screen has finally cracked. But, of course, these things can never be half-assed with me so as of this day my iPhone now stands with a gaping, shard bordered hole where the home button used to be. 
6. NIKE AIRMAX THEAS
   But at R1500+ a pair, these will remain a wish.
7. WHITE HAIR AND BABY BANGS
   I want Gabourey Sidibe's platinum, Beyonce's fringe length and maybe a little colour at the bottom. I'm not sure I can trust anyone in Johannesburg to do this justice at the right price (which would be dirt cheap). A girl can dream, right?

I'm going to spend the next four days holding tightly onto my fading youth and overeating. For everyone who hasn't had their birthday yet, what are you lucky whippersnappers hoping to receive?

The Radio, They Don't Really Play Us

My life's turning into one long Jaden Smith ballad and it's a little trippy because I haven't slept in three days and I don't know how to count minutes but, wow, it's so good.

You don't think about how many things distract you or how much nothing you're accumulating until everyday you're doing everything and now there's always something and anything to do. My friend texted me the link to Jaden Smith's new album(?) (EP?) (great American novel?) on Friday and I've been a state ever since. I redecorated my room, taught myself some Photoshop, caught up on my journal work (both personal and Art) and made like 38380402 chokers and body chains for Glitter Betty. I also am finally up to date with Supernatural and I don't understand why there was a time I ever wanted to not be busy.

It's like on E!'s Fashion Bloggers when Margaret is like, "All I ever do is work and school." And then she mentions something about a boyfriend that obviously flew over my head.

Last year I printed out a couple of text messages from my friends and kept them above my bed but I preferred them around my mirror now, where I'll be forced to interact with them everyday.

Photo of my mom at a party back before I was born - so, like, hella nineties, man // Hamsa body chain over a Mr Price white lace bra I bought purely for Tumblr feels.

Flamingo and palm tree pendants from Mr Price and an Accessorize 'Make Your Own' necklaces strung over a wire hanger ("NO MORE WIRE HANGERS") // Elephant neckalce and gold bracelet from the Turkish Bazaar over a Van Gogh postcard from the time I went to the Van Gogh museum in Amsterdam // a Petra Collins photo on some red gumpaper from my old visual journal // Left to right: photo by Petra Collins, photo by Paul Ward and a photo from the Swedish House Mafia concert two years ago.

Top: Cotton On. Skirt: Glitter Betty. Shoes: charity shop (for R50 [$5] at a charity shop and they're genuine leather) (!!!). Chokers: Glitter Betty

I strongly doubt I'm going to be able to keep my wall this pretty for very long since I suck at keeping my room looking like anything other than a neglected charity shop. Anyway, what's everyone been up to? Any tips for not being such an organised mess?

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Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman

People will tell you a lot of things about the end of your childhood like "enjoy it, being an adult is miserable," or "you'll laugh about this later" or "get out my face, stupid kid" and while these are very useful (in the completely useless way almost all advice from adults seems), they don't prepare you for anything at all. Like, how the moments when you and your friends can all start doing things like driving to McDonald's anytime they want and book hotel rooms and cry at a desk job, your heart begins this awful series of palpitations and you spend a lot of time feeling like your eyes are glazed over because every thing's happening so fast and you haven't even had lunch yet and, what, when did everyone learn how to pay rates and taxes?!


So I've come up with a solution for those few that are really nauseated by the future (and by 'those few' I mean all of us because hahaha, we all hate this time nonsense - like when can it end amirite): dress up and eat BBQ chicken while one of your mates drinks out of a chalice marked '18' in rhinestones and glitter. There is no better way to avoid reality than with carbs and refashioning your brother's H&M old-man-who's-never-even-been-to-Hawaii T-shirts into a cute asymmetrical skirt and your favourite bangers by Chris Breezy and Taylor Swift from the 2000s. This approach works well with a net tank top from Mr Price, impractical high heels from Cotton On and as many cuffs, chokers, chains and rings that you haven't lost while crying over ugly conversations with adults that begin with, "WHAT R U STUDYING WHERE R U GOING TO UNI FIGURE OUT UR FUTUR RN TYVM."

I also suggest getting ready with a gaggle of your girls every time you go out because there's nothing better than mentioning that your eyebrows are teensy bit overgrown and having three pairs of tweezers and an eyebrow/lash brush waved in your face before you can say, "I'll just cover it up with a ridiculous amount of concealer."

Also, while my methods of denying/avoiding/evading the future are fun, it's also hours of work. What does everyone else do?

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The WKND Social x @Fiat_SA

Like all good stories, it started at a party. Actually, no, it started during my dad's surprise party clean-up. My friend, Kelicia, was over and in between mopping up red wine spills and lipstick stains off of glasses, we were beside ourselves because we really wanted to go to the final WKND Social of the year but our pint-sized wallets and desire for a pretty boy to treat us to nice things meant that we didn't have any tickets.

We were so beside ourselves that the idea of entering a competition with Fiat, wherein all Kelicia had to do was book a test drive and then, should she be chosen, get a driver from Fiat in the new (and very adorable) Fiat 500 as well as complimentary tickets to the WKND Social and the WKND Social after-party and a personal photographer. It was way too good to be true and while I rolled my eyes, Kelicia entered.

And she won.

I tried to keep it pretty simple and try some new things, like let the hem of my shirt show beneath my skirt considering we were gonna have a photo shoot for Fiat. My shirt is from a charity shop in Istanbul, my skirt Pull & Bear and my studded creepers from K&B in Istanbul. I crafted my choker in five minutes before we had to leave from some ribbon and, yes, it was a little white-girl-basic, wore a bindhi but considering that it matched my eyebrows I think I can be forgiven.

We also got to hang and take some really bad selfies (I look like a miss-me-with-that-bull meme in every single one) with Tee Tee Is With Me blogger Thithi Ntetha, who also started and runs The WKND Social. Her braids gave me life as well as those really cute boots.

Kelicia with the other winner, Fezile.

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Feminism: the Cause Du Jour

Maybe it's my inherent hipster cynicism to dislike anything that becomes really popular and over saturated in mainstream media, but it's starting to seem like feminism is incredibly on trend. Suddenly, every third or fourth female (usually white) celebrity is 'coming out' as feminist, Tumblr is chock full of glitter feminist badges and anti-misogyny mini-skirts and the angry Twitterati is picking fights constantly over T-shirts and 'females these days' comments. While I'm glad feminism is no longer the angry lesbian third party, I'm not sure this is necessarily a good thing.

Hipsters always get a bad rep for "liking [things] before they were cool" but they are onto something with that. The moment a cause gains notoriety (think Kony 2012 and #BringBackOurGirls) it means everyone's quick to adopt it and tweet their blessed little hearts out but without any genuine sincerity, but more a desire to be a part of the crowd than actually research and identify with the cause. What's the point of Becky, Sue and Sally all identifying as feminists when they're quick to applaud faux-feminist events, see Chanel's runway last month, or do very not feminist things in the name of feminism (like this) or perhaps when it's time to do something very difficult or uncool; drop feminism altogether. And that's the thing about trends; they fade.

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Perhaps it's not feminism itself that is becoming trendy but more the breed of white, cisgendered oriented feminism that's becoming popular. To quote a recent Tumblr post I saw, "Yeah, she's cute but is her feminism intersectional?" It's great that you want gender equality and equal pay but none of that means squat when you're quick to praise Miley Cyrus for embracing her sexuality and Emma Watson for trying to accommodate feminism for men while dismissing Nicki Minaj and Rihanna as pandering to the male gaze and passing a blind eye to Lilly Allen's use of black female bodies as sexual objects.

However, yesterday I attended a debate of feminism and gender relations in South Africa (here) and a recurring throughout the discussions was that there is no such thing as a perfect feminist. And, you know what? Does it really matter that a celebrity donates millions to an orphanage to appease the press but that progress and awareness comes out of their selfish act? What I'm saying is: not all of us arrived to feminism through reading The Second Sex or listening to Pussy Riot before it was cool, some of us learnt about it through trashy teen lit, our boyfriends or Tumblr.  We've at least arrived to the party. It doesn't matter who invited us, just that we're here and we brought dip.

Maybe it's going to have to take feminism being hotter than those stupid Chanel espadrilles everyone bought last year to bring about some serious change. Trendiness means awareness. Trendiness means we're having conversations about street harassment and rape culture, we're creating spaces to talk about our 'bad' feminist woes (see: like all of Rookie). Trendiness means we're a little closer to progress.

I just hope that feminism's coolness right now doesn't mean capitalist (therefore patriarchal) debasement and spark up a greater need for people to take it off it's pedestal and create a counter-culture (see: #IDontNeedFeminism and, like, 70% of Twitter and its trolls).

I hope feminism remains cool, like it has always been, and y'all take this wicked ideology to the streets and pledge allegiance to pro-choice and anti-anti-mini-skirt legislation.

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But, hey, do you think that the rise in feminism in popular culture is due to it's recent trendiness, like Beyonce's ***Flawless and Emma Watson's He For She campaign or a part of the natural timing of things wherein something always has to give? Or do you have any other thoughts on this topic? Or do you maybe want to send me a cookie? (Yes, you do.) My comments section is always open for rants. So is my Twitter.

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Cut Your Hair Today, 7/11 Your Life Tomorrow

Change your hair, change your life. The more you change your hair, the less boredom and dead ends you'll run into. This is osmosis. How you say, science. Fact. Don't look it up, though, just take my word for it.

I'm no stranger to cutting, burning and manipulating my hair into an array of new looks that correlate into new outlooks on life. Just this year I went from a relaxed pixie cut (here) to a perm (here), box braids (here), to a very frustrating weave (here), to a more annoying weave (here), to cornrows (here) and then dreadlocks (here).

But, lately, I've reached a dead end lately in my life and projects. The only sane and reasonable thing to do, it seemed, was bring in a major change to my life and so yesterday morning I decided to cut my hair and then spent last night freaking out over how short it was and how so, so irreversible it is. Plus sides to cutting my hair, however: I get to go through 2012's nightmare of, :"oh my god, you cut your hair" (like I hadn't noticed, ay?) and "whyyyy would you cut your hair?"

I think everyone should make the very regrettable yet empowering decision of cutting your hair way too short.

Firstly, as a black woman, it's a very political decision because you're out right defying the monopoly European beauty standards that require long, straight perfection.
Secondly, as any woman at all, you're sticking your tongue out to patriarchy's restrictive beauty ideals. Thirdly, you get to reintroduce yourself to yourself. Not only do you look like a new person to other people, your reflection is a complete stranger who - hey - have you ever noticed how chiseled your jaw actually is and that your eyes are almond shaped? You wouldn't have met that handsome she-devil behind that mop you've been possessively conserving for the past three years.
Lastly, and most important to remember - it grows back. Just like most great things in life, like life, hair is temporary. At the very least, scaredy cat, dye your hair a really damaging and what-a-dumb-kid-I-was colour like fuchsia or teal.

I also feel a lot closer to my deity, Solange (who had the greatest wedding ever and now I can really never hope to get married ever) right now.

the shadows know the truth

i miss u & u just don't care.

With my new hair came some inspiration in the form of Lazy Bones Illustrations. The really cool cat behind the blog, Miranda, uses Microsoft Paint as her medium. Her illustrations, well her medium more than anything, reminded me of the dramatic illustrations I used to make for the short stories and novels I wrote as a kid with Microsoft XP. MS Paint is also such a really millennial and innovative medium too. It's not like how almost everything has been done in terms of paint (a la the Impressionists and Cubists) or how sculpture has been reinovated time and time again, you know? There aren't any limits to what is possible yet with MS Paint and that makes it rather exciting. The MS Paint artist also can't procrastinate with the excuses of not having enough turpentine, clean brushes or paper. All you need is electricity and the sheer hope that this doesn't blind. Also, a lot of patience as well because MS Paint is really frustrating (i.e trying to fill in a tree and then messing up your whole canvas with hot pink).

These are some of Miranda's most recent MS Paint illustrations. I am still actively combing through her Tumblr for more pretty things.

Come Back/Don't Go (source)

Tanning (source)

Poolside Views {a drawing about when you leave the party to be alone for a bit} (source)

All Strippers Go to Heaven (source)

In other important news, Beyonce released a music video/homage to the based god of turnt up/that lifestyle collection/everything important ever that had my whole Tumblr posting a collective 'YAAAS, Bey, YAAAS' and trying to hold down their snatched edges. Bey's reaching her peak in my eyes right now. She's just entering the penultimate phrase of being a free woman. She's successful, healthy, her weave ain't crooked and she's just having fun with her life.