Jackie Kennedy on the Amalfi Coast, 1962

via Habitually Chic.

An invitation.

This morning I got on the train at Nostrand. It was crowded, but not insane. There was a woman around my age, maybe a few years older, who was carrying one baby in a sling nestled comfortably right under her breast, and she had another, a son, about two. There were no seats available. I looked around at the seated patrons. All pretending to be asleep w/their eyes closed. If I had a seat, I thought, I would unquestionably offer it to her.

Finally someone got up. It was their stop. And then the most remarkable thing happened…I almost knew it would – she gave the seat to her son, the two year old. She stood, baby cradled in a sling draped over her shoulder, diaper bag on the other shoulder. This, is a woman’s worth.

I’ve Paid My Fashion Dues – It’s Time for Hermes!

So, remember how I was all in love with Chanel and decided that this year I would make my way towards purchasing my first piece of Chanel? Well, that mission was happily accomplished not too long ago. But now, I’m feeling an urge to move on…to a new design team.

My next goal in fashion is to obtain my first piece of Hermes.

I’ve got my eye on:

Let me explain this obsession to those of you who may not fully understand…
I have always had a deep appreciation for style in women’s wear. As a child I always had my preferences, as I’m sure any child does, for which types of clothing I would wear. As I entered adolescence, I found myself experimenting with unconventional looks to express my daily states of being – much to the shock and humor of my classmates at JHS 168 in Queens. The ridicule and scorn, teasing, the isolation, the egg thrown on top of my head, were all part of my defiance in defending this artistic expression of the self by way of fashion. Rocking bell bottoms and platform sneakers in 1992 wasn’t the hippest thing to do. And if I may toot my own horn, it took a tremendous amount of guts to simply be myself amidst a world where everyone was trying to “fit in” (and later bite my style, no hate).
High school was different for me. I went to an arts high school that was home to all the other people like me, so I felt free to dress as I pleased, experimenting with fabrics and materials and shapes. I actually had a hot pink rubber mini A-line skirt. In an environment that appreciated and reflected my own artistry, I felt unshackled. Until, of course, I got off the F train and had to board the Q2 bus back home. My peers in Queens were definitely not feeling me. But I didn’t care. I never cared.
And I’ve blossomed into an adult who is known for being “stylish”. And that is all right with me. I’m grateful to have come from a family of such incredibly stylish, graceful and beautiful women who have definitely helped shape my appreciation for this particular aesthetic form. For decades, I have had a keen appreciation for high fashion. I go through magazines and fashion websites, I attend shows at fashion week – and for the most part, I’ve used these showcases as inspiration and later find myself at thrift stores, discount stores, lower-end retailers, my grandmother’s closet, clothing swaps, my own room with some scissors and a needle and thread – creating my desired looks. Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoy this type of DIY and on-a-dime fashion sensibility and will continue to employ these tactics – but as I grow, I really do like to adorn myself with elegant attire from super creative houses of fashion. It’s been a long time coming, and I’ve definitely paid my dues!

Oh and in case you were wondering, yes, I would like to eventually move into equestrian arts – so this jump cap is part of an outfit in formation.

Back to High Art + Gender and the Film Industry

So I’ve been busting my boot-ay lately, grinding on different shoots – paid gigs and from the heart projects of mine, and collaborations. It’s a pretty high time creatively in my corner.
What’s been bothering me, though, is the way gender plays out on shoots. During the “school year” I’m usually inundated with education-based creative environments and I’ve also been going to the non-profit and public media worlds as a source of income for film projects. But 2009 (or “two thousand mine” as my friend Taagen calls it) has been the year of creativity for me. I’ve decided to make some changes in the work I produce, going back to my high art roots. I guess I’d produced one too many social documentaries and needed some conceptual, abstract, avant garde in my life. I hadn’t seen it since the early part of the decade.
What’s resulted are video art projects, experimental shoots, working with more art department stuff on music videos and photo shoots and coming up, my first performance art/video art collaborative show next Wednesday at Webster Hall. Yeah.
Its all very fun, but what’s happened is that now I’m back in the fold of “the industry” – completely different from the non-profit/pubic media/children’s media/education world. There’s no politically correct filter. People in the commercial film/tv industry are unrefined like raw sugar. But I’m accustomed to maple syrup.
On a recent shoot, I ran into a woman I used to work with back in the days. She was a producer on this particular project. As always, she is on top of her game – thorough, kind, considerate, timely. She gets the job done and does it well, with grace and ease. That’s why she’s a producer. But why is it that certain men who she outranks exceedingly still refuse to give her due respect? Maybe they’re just a-holes who don’t know the meaning of respect – wrong! The same guys who mistreat a female producer will give much higher respect to a male production manager.
I hate that this is still an issue, mainly because I hate complaining. But it really is atrocious and unfair. I always notice that there are mostly men on the majority of film/video/photo shoots. The industry is still very obviously male dominated and its rare that any of these men check their male privilege, particularly on set.

I’ve been dragging my feet on forming the all female film collective, but I must not drag any longer. I’m getting it started. I think September will be our kick-off month!

The Carters: Love Makes You Look Good

I’ve just gotta mention the beaming light that is J and B. Yes, yes, I know. They’re rich. They’re talented. Driven. Famous. They spend a lot of money on all the products and services one can imagine to look as good as they do. But since their nuptials, I must say, they’ve upped their glow.

A Great Day to be Born

I got a call at 6:30 this morning from a then pregnant Luchana. They were on their way to the hospital. I sent out prayers, affirmations and positive thoughts and solicited more of the same via txt messages, facebook and twitter. And, at 9:17am on Tuesday, May 19th 2009, Renee Doris Marie Caviness was born.

On this day 84 years ago, baby Malcolm Little was born and would grow to be El Hajj Malik Shabazz, better known as Malcolm X. He would stand for the freedom of many, to be remembered, studied, loved and revered.

Below is a video sent on twitter by @zaheerali of a secret audio recording of Brother Malcolm meeting with a couple of members of the FBI. They really tried to insult his intelligence. You have to listen to it. The nerve! Proof that the brother was committed. Unwavering. Steady. Reliable. Worthy.

Happy Malcolm X Day. And welcome to the world, Baby Renee!