To me, black is the absence of colour rather than a colour, funny how when it is bound with other words the outcome is rather colourful.
Here are some symbolisms,
Black Widow: The air was thick with rumours, they whispered that she’d poisoned her five husbands and cut out their hearts to cook pepper-soup with. It didn’t help that the aromatic scent of spicy uziza seeds and utazi leaves always filled the air around her compound moments after they all died.
Go and sin no more, I assure you that the streets of heaven will be paved with hot, fresh-out-of-the-bubbly pan, golden brown, crisp puff-puff.
Ok, I’ll come clean, my actual agenda at weddings is the finger food a.k.a. Small Chops (SC). No Sir, the rice-moinmoin-plantain-coleslaw-and-chicken combo just won’t cut it. That’s my Sunday Lunch Holy Grail (SLHG) anyway, and I firmly believe that some things should be kept sacred.
See, I don’t have time for wedding reception waiters who ignore my meaningful stares, my gently raised eyebrows, pregnant with hints, and that subtle cock of my ‘Yellow Sisi’ head towards the (more…)
If I had to rank fabrics in order of their romance factor, I would place lace at the top of the class, picture Kate Middleton in that heavenly Alexander McQueen wedding dress, *back of wrist against forehead-swoon*.
My work wear primarily consists of chiffon blouses and pencil skirts à la Bree Van De Kamp, my favorite Desperate Housewife (TV series); a very graceful character both in her mannerisms and style. I was rather fascinated by her psychotic obsession with perfection.
Front and back view
Pencil skirts whisper sweet nothings to a lady’s hips *blush+simper*. 😉
So, I made this skirt from a self drafted pattern, using a combination of soft lace (outer shell) and heavy-ish crepe (inner shell), which in retrospect was a mistake, a lighter underlining fabric may (more…)