Fashion, self confidence, self-care, sex, skincare

The Yoni Thing

So since I can’t deal with skiing, I had to find another outlet. Apparently the yoni (or vagina as most of us call it) has become a hot area so I thought that might be a thing. Having spent most of my life in a sort of utilitarian mode regarding that area, it came as a shock to find that it had been rebranded and now I have to buy special products for it and possibly steam it. Who knew that a washcloth and soap had been replaced by bowls of boiling water infused with herbs that you squat over, risking life, limb and scalded yoni.

Hm. Ok. Here’s what happened…

I was buying my third (and not last, never last) tub of Even Skin Hyper Pgmentation Moisturizer, $15.99, which features fragrant lemon oil and skin beautifying turmeric for glowing smooth skin. Just before I checked out, I saw the yoni products and decided to jump off the cliff. I wasn’t ready for steaming and all that, so I chose the Gentle Herbal Yoni Wash, $13.99. It’s a lovely foam with castile soap, apple cider vinegar, aloe vera, and chamomile among other things.

So now I’ve put myself out there and I have this one lonely yoni product and I’m thinking ‘she deserves more’. I’ve just started selling my upcycled designs on Aliwazas (a platform that supports black female + femme businesses because we don’t always get seen or recognized on other crowded sites) and I decided to buy something so that I could see what the purchasing experience was. I saw an instagram post about Honey Milk and liked their backstory, so I dropped by their shop .

I got the I Am Happy lemongrass bodywash, $8.49 because I love citrus-y bath products. And I sprang for the Yummy Yoni Nectar, $6.49 which is a mix of oils infused with calendula and cornflower petals. You’re supposed to massage your yoni once a week, using the nectar to encourage circulation and natural lubrication.

So now I’mpaying all this attention to my yoni and she’s like ‘more’. So I gave her this:

My first vibrator ever. At this point of dealing with my yoni, I came to understand that she’s sick of the nonsense that I’ve been putting her through by dating people who don’t care about her. This is real. It’s not like words came out of my vagina or anything, I just started understanding that I’ve been wasting my natural resource and not honoring the fact that understanding how to pleasure myself sets me free of romantic delusion and unrealistic expectations. I just never thought of dedicating time and effort into figuring out what me and my yoni needed to be happy and successful.

Lifechanging. My attitude towards myself is totally different.

So now we’re here:

Valentine’s Day came and instead of feeling sorry for myself or desperate, I felt lucky. Lucky to be alive and well and falling in love with myself. Tapping into the whys and wherefores of this person. I was at Bloomingdale’s and this guy was selling this most delicious smelling fragrance and I thought ‘she deserves it’. So now we wear Tiffany & love eau de parfume, $105 because it’s who we are. Yesterday I spent all day choosing the perfect bouquet because… just because. When I opened my eyes this morning they were there, and when I drew up the shade they were illuminated by the morning light and the pleasure of this is so intense it’s beyond words. And I deserve this beauty and the pleasure that comes from witnessing it.

When it was just my vagina, I didn’t think it was special because and I didn’t think that I was special. But now that I have a yoni to care for and honor, I’m a new person. I’m a better, wiser, happier, more productive and less inhibited person looking to grow and manifest blessings for myself and others. Still petty, still irascible and sometimes downright annoying, but better.

How have you honored your divine self lately?What have you done to remind yourself that life is beautiful? Are you living your best self love journey right now?

Until next time,

Faith/SEBMarketBK

accessaries, clothing, Fashion, literature, movies, shoes

in which we #TBT on Wednesday because we can time travel on this blog

I was going through folders trying to make up my mind what to do for my first 2016 post. Of course I got distracted. I found an old folder of images that I took to go with an Examiner.com post about fashion exhibits. I got drawn in by the sequins and flapper cool of Catherine Martin’s costumes for Gatsby all over again.

So my first post of 2016 is actually a look back.

Remember back in 2013 when Gatsby was the only movie to see? Here in New York, you could not get away from it. Which is not a bad thing, since it’s a Baz Luhrman spectacle, but… it reminds me of something I want to keep in mind this year.

Everybody loves you, until they don’t. Everybody thinks you’re cool, until the next cool thing comes along.

I’m keeping that in mind, not just about my blog or myself, but about what I endorse or chime in on. Am I playing into the game of making women want things they don’t need or am I expressing myself? Am I in it for you guys who read this, or just so I can climb out of (now) semi-poverty? My blog has given much, but can I take that for granted?

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This exhibit was styled mannequins dressed in clothing, shoes, and other accessories seen in the movie.

The shoes are decadent, bejeweled, whimsical, and stunning.

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Gatsby is in itself a look back. A look back at a classic book set in a classic time in history, and fashion. It’s about someone who can’t tear himself away from an old idea of something, and it kills him. Gatsby loved something that could only ever hurt him and make him feel less than perfect. His love is inherently self destructive, and his efforts to achieve success to capture a self-destructive love came to nothing in the end.

I don’t want to be a Gatsby, but I want to be something more than I am right now. I stared blogging because I had lost yet another job and I had nothing to lose. I was just looking for a way to promote my writing and photography. I was just looking for something to do. When I started doing this, I loved fashion the way Gatsby loved Daisy, all starry eyed and thinking it was my one true thing. But, luckily, blogging taught me something really important.

Blogging taught me about myself. It taught me about certain unrealistic tendencies, it taught me about what I would do to survive and blossom. It taught me how to blossom. Blogging gave me the courage to strike out and grow up. Blogging gave me things that I needed for the price of words and photos. More than any moment of me trying to be a writer/photographer, it was blogging that taught me the worth of my talent. I am valuable enough to attract all the things girls need…for free. That is some crazy stuff to think about.

Want lipstick? Here. Shoes? Here. Soap, perfume, clothes, laundry detergent, toothpaste? We’ll send it over. Come to this event, not only will we give you free stuff, but we’ll feed you delicacies and ply you with liquor. You don’t have to do anything but write a few words and post a few photos. That is intoxicating.

Until it stops. What if it stops? Should it stop? Or should I stop it?

That’s where I am right now. I want something, but it’s not the same thing I started out chasing. I’m glad I blog and I’m glad I got stuff (not as much as some, but more than others) because I needed all of it. But what next? And who am I now? Can I outgrow my inner Gatsby tendencies?

Everybody loves you, until they don’t. I feel like the trick is to love yourself enough to know that’s true.

 

xoxo, Faith/SassyEthnicBohemian