A Dusty Corner of the Net

[...::Gyaru Progression::...]

by (*G.)oddamazon

So, it’s been a while. But here I am, updating. This is a frivolous GPOY post, so if you’re expecting something profound, move along…or go to my Tumblr. Anyway, here was today’s look for going out and about in the city. I was going for a rokku-gyaru look, with an onee-gyaru face. :)

Face make-up. I was going for a nude-lip because the eyes are dramatic.

Sideview.

Full-body.

And three-quarter shot. <3

Today’s coord:

SHIRT: Apple Bottoms

SKIRT: TJ Max

LEGGINGS: BCBG; the shredding was done by me.

BOOTS: 579

NECKLACE: A gift from my friend Tegan. It’s a red marble encased in pewter ankhs.

RING: Nigerian gold. A gift from my mother. There’s a match bracelet, earrings, and pendant.

BRACELETS: Nigeria again.

EARRINGS: Wet Seal

And that’s basically it! So far, the gaijin-gyaru community on FB has been helpful with hints, tricks, and tips on how to get the full gyaru look down so I’ll be posting more progress soon .:)


[...::"If" Black Women were White Women::...]

by (*G.)oddamazon

This was an email going around a few years back. It’s circulating on my Tumblr, and I figured it was worth sharing. Save your comments until you’ve processed what you read here.

“If” Black Women Were White Women

August 23, 2009

In “If Men Could Menstruate,” Gloria Steinem makes the persuasive argument that “Whatever a ‘superior’ group has will be used to justify its superiority, and whatever an ‘inferior’ group has will be used to justify its plight.”

For too long the definition of racism has been a fight between white and black manhood or “who’s the bigger man”, so to speak. We’ve trivialized the existence of gender between both groups of men in favor for discussion of the “bigger issue”.

This has historically enabled white female supremacy—the most unchallenged form of white supremacy—to escape any critical thought.

What if suddenly, instantly, the power of white femininity were transferred to black women?

The answer is clear: Black women would represent value, purity; and based on their natural traits would be worthy of protection and instantly become the objects of universal desire. White women would represent the opposite.

“Beauty tar potion” would become globally popular to get the “black look.” “Dove” would be replaced with a black soap called “Raven” to help exfoliate the skin and bring out subtle hints of melanin.

White female features would be declared violent. Their “jagged” thin lips, “knife sharp” noses, and “harsh” jaw lines would be nature’s way of expressing why men have a natural preference for the soft features of black women. Soft lips, soft cheekbones, and soft, round noses would be proof of natural femininity. Full, pink lips and large, dark eyes would become associated with virginal black girls whose purity must not be compromised. Black female features would thus be said to represent youth.

Straight, blond hair would be considered “wild and unruly” because when the wind blew, it did not stay in place. Women with naturally straight hair would hide their “unruly” and “wild” stick-straight hair in public. The desire for “lightweight hair” that defied gravity would permanently end the use of blow dryers. Keeping one’s natural blond hair wild and straight would become indicative of a political statement.

The anti-aging properties of black female skin combined with soft, curvy bodies would be proof of the overall reproductive health of black women. Scientists would argue that black women were naturally preferred as long term mates and mothers because they were “healthier.” Men’s attraction to women is based on overall health and fertility, after all.

Suddenly, biracial women would be “in” because the hard features of white women wouldn’t prevent the fragile genes of “black beauty” from peeking through. Men would suddenly have the desire to date “ethnic,” non-black women since they would look “closer to black” than blond women—at least they wouldn’t look like white women.

Statistics would equate the fact that white women make up the majority with their “overpowering” and “strong” population. This would be proof that they could handle unsafe neighborhoods. The “strong culture” they would have created amongst themselves would enable them to withstand their lack of protection from predators and criminals. Statisticians would argue that men were attracted to black women innately because they made up a small percentage of the population. “We tend to value what is rare,” they might say.

Men would proclaim that white women deserve sexual objectification because “flat buttocks” allow for deeper penetration. In ghettos across America, men would stand on street corners and yell “Damn! You got a flat ass!” to remind white women of their sexual status in society.

Upper class women would be afraid that their “asses looked flat” since it would represent animalistic and sexual deviance, like white women. Black women’s buttocks, said to protrude farther from the body, would prove that their natural vulnerability made them “less equipped” to handle hardcore sex and rape like white women could.

“I need a strong white woman!” would become a popular “empowering” slogan for exploitative men who rationalized the emotional, financial, and sexual overburdening of white women.

Overweight white nannies would become the “acceptable white women” in popular culture as they do not pose a threat to black female superiority and privilege. Conventionally attractive white women would serve as a sexual threat to black women for single-handedly breaking down the beauty hierarchy.

Hip hop videos would feature men throwing money at “white bitches” bent over in front of the camera to showcase their white asses, eager for deep penetration. Entire songs would be devoted to hatred of “white gold digging bitches” who believed that they were entitled to the financial security in marriage to which black women were entitled. “Penetrable white asses” and “pale-faced hoes” would become the cash commodity for selling entire musical genres.

White women’s “hard” bodies would be deemed more “capable” of fighting off sexual attackers, while the soft curves of black female bodies would become worthy of police protection. White women, despite being at high risk of being victimized by violence and sexual crimes, would not “need” police protection.

Movies would feature black women as the main objects of men’s desire across racial lines while stereotypes of evil, bitter, and oversexed white women would further prove why men of all races simply did not prefer blonds. “We can’t help those to whom we’re attracted,” men would say. “Preference” would become an unconcealed acceptance of discrimination against white women. White women’s anger towards and sadness about the status quo would show their unreasonable jealousy of the innate superiority of black women.

Republicans would ban abortions to protect the virtue of pure, black motherhood and liberals would advocate increasing the number of abortion clinics in “low income” neighborhoods where white women would be the majority. Liberals would claim that white women had “culturally” approved of sexual objectification and were “safe enough” without outside help since they were warned not to touch “in-group issues” with a ten foot pole.

And so on and so forth.

The most important reality is that black feminists would eventually grow tired of being seen as innocent and vulnerable in patriarchy and would fight to erase the commodity of black femininity. “The innocent, submissive, and vulnerable representation of women is what puts us in danger. The rigid category of femininity has contributed to our oppression,” they might argue.

In the back of every black feminist movement we would hear the quiet and dignified pleas of radical white feminists. “But, we do not represent femininity. We are considered strong, incapable of feeling pain, and sexually deviant—but all this has done is increase our likelihood of being in danger. And aren’t we women too?”

As Gloria Steinem wrote, “In short, the characteristics of the powerful, whatever they may be, are thought to be better than the characteristics of the powerless – and logic has nothing to do with it.”

What remains universally evident is that the many justifications for power and privilege are always inherent, always scientific, and always permeate society to the point that they remain deeply buried within our collective consciousness.

Until someone challenges them.


[...::Gone Too Soon::...]

by (*G.)oddamazon

My favorite legends.

We haven’t recovered. We think we have, but really, the thought of its reality is so horrible that we’ve number ourselves to it…we refuse to truly accept it. It’s happened frequently, but that first blow was the worst; so bad that this has become expected, almost anticipated with a morbidity that frightens me.

I’m talking about Michael Jackson’s death. Even now, I shudder to write it, as if writing it will somehow make it too real for me to accept. I’ve already blogged about Michael Jackson’s death, and how it hurt me in the same way losing a close relative would. Maybe it was like that for all of us. And lately, since his death, too many of our pop culture icons have followed suit.

And then over the weekend, we lost Whitney Houston.

Her voice remains unmatched by any female vocalist.

When I think about it, I have not lived long, and I was born in the late 80s. By that time, Whitney Houston was already a superstar. I grew up hearing her songs in my home. My mother and father were huge fanatics of her, Bobby Brown, Michael Jackson, the usual Black R&B/pop fare. They were quintessential fans of her music, and as a result, their tastes became my tastes. I listened to Whitney routinely, and there is no one on Earth who can understand how unequivocally moved I was by her rendition of Dolly Parton’s “I Will Always Love You”. I used to sing it to myself, and this was how my parents discovered I had a bit of singing talent. I used to sing for my father all the time. When that song came on, and we’d be in the car and I’d sing, he’d turn down the radio so he could hear my voice…it was embarrassing, but Whitney Houston was my main reason for even finding my voice. Her cassette “I’m Your Baby Tonight” was my second personal tape after Michael Jackson’s “Bad” cassette, and I used to ride to school and pray for “I’m Every Woman” and “I’m Your Baby Tonight” to come on the radio at least once. It was either her or MJ for me, although in the mid to late 90s Mariah Carey became apart of my mixtapes as well. When I switched to CDs, I got a greatest hits album, and when she starred in “Waiting to Exhale”, I had two copies of the soundtrack…for no other reason than to have a backup in case I played the hell out of the first. I also did this for the two-disc edition of MJ’s “HIStory” album.

I wanted this outfit as a kid so badly. Very cyberpunk-glam.

She inspired a lot of us in our youth, and our adulthood, and I admired her ability to look as flawless and graceful in her advancing age and still retain that unbelievable voice. She, like MJ, was an icon and legend who remained undaunted by the test of time. Even with her personal struggles, struggles I understood a lot more than I ought, I admired her. So to lose her may not cut as deep because I’m still reeling from Michael Jackson’s death, but it still hurts. We lost another great, and it just seems so foreboding to me that so many of our musical icons are fading from the world in what seems like succession. But like all who pass, I know Whitney is in a better place, same as Michael, and Etta, and everyone else we admired and lauded for unparalleled talent. In the meantime, I’m going to celebrate Whitney’s legacy and all the memories I have that come with her music, and if you loved her or any other artist that has passed away, that is how I’m sure they want to be remembered: for the indelible marks they have left in our live with their gifts.


[...::Subculture Elitism::...]

by (*G.)oddamazon

So I’m barely a week into exploring the gyaru subculture, and already I’ve gotten backlash from people saying I’m “not gyaru enough” and that I should stop tagging my photos with “gyaru” because I’m not gyaru.

I have never claimed to be gyaru. It’s the same as when I never claimed to be Goth. I tag the photos because these photos are part of my journey to being gyaru. Yes, the make-up isn’t full gyaru, no the clothes aren’t so glamorous, and I’ve specified that several times in my posts. However, I think these blogs that feature pictures of girls who “aren’t gyaru” are just a symptom of too many of the new generation buying into the “Mean Girls” fad. That is, they have found a way to bully others without being held accountable.

If I wasn’t anything less than who I am, this might have impacted me negatively, but really all I can do is shake my head in disappointment. Even more so, almost all of the backlash I have received are from the gaijin gyaru “community”. Not just any gaijin either, but white girls. And that brought another problem to my attention that ties into white privilege and that sense of entitlement that everything belongs to them.

Why are you desperately trying to play “purist” for a subculture you didn’t originate? It’s not just the gyaru subculture either; I used to see this a lot in different fandoms, especially anime, kpop, and visual kei. It seems, whenever Black people want to be apart of a subculture or fandom, the white people always come rushing in to play Purist Police.

Knock it off. Seriously.

I don’t know if people read my Tumblr or blog enough to understand how much of a fuck I don’t give about the opinions of others, especially when it comes to something as personal as delving into a subculture, or my religion, or my personal experiences. I have never once asked for your approval, validation, or critique on anything I do, and even if you think I have, that condescending criticism could never pass for positive “advice” or critique in more intelligent circles. It’s bullying, plain and simple.

I’m not here to impress you, inspire you, or anything. I’m doing this for myself and no one else. And the sooner you learn that, the better off you will be. That being said, I’ve decided the subset of gyaru I’m going to try is onee-gyaru. It’s the only one that really fits me personality. Well, there are others, but this one is the most girlish and fun for my grown-up attitude.

And now, picture spam from yesterday’s foray into natural-looking gyaru make-up.


[...::Interlude: Today's Look::...]

by (*G.)oddamazon

I have adopted the false lash and incorporated it into my daily look. As much as I used to rag on women who wore false lashes, and how annoying it must be I have to admit, seeing myself with them on gives them an appeal I’m sorry I ever trivialized. They really bring out one’s eyes, especially for women like me whose eyes are small and only noticeable with heavy eye make-up. I have yet to try my individual lashes for styles, as I am too in love with Revlon’s Beyond Natural lashes to try anything else at the moment.

For the gyaru look, I used white eyeliner on my bottom lid to make my eyes appear much larger and doll-like. I got good compliments on them today at my gig. I think I’m going to make it my daily look as well. For particularly glamorous events, though, I’m going to purchase fancier lashes, and do more dramatic make-up. Really, my style of gyaru is all about playing up the doll-like eyes. I have a cute enough face for no real theatrical make-up to be necessary.


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