minor bummer
why do black women feel the need to wear weave?
Anonymous

esteemsters:

black--lamb:

hmm

idk maybe because of shit like this

or this

……

*sigh*

noticing a trend….

instead of asking “why black women feel the need to wear weaves” let’s ask “why black women have been made to feel that they need a weave in the first place”….

for centuries the standard of beauty has not been that of the black woman…(we all know who i’m talking about)  instead we have been pushed to ‘conform’ to those standards without any second thoughts…i mean “white is right”…right….

black women are the only group of people  who have been unmercifully criticized for the hair that grows naturally from their scalp…we have been told that our natural locs are “uncivilized’ “ugly’ undesirable’…that in order to be anywhere near beautiful we’ll have to rock straight european hair or permanently straighten our own..it’s all psychological from years and years of conforming..sadly the ideas and stigmas still have an effect on black women of today… 

it’s sad that the number of us who have gone natural are looked up to as ‘being brave’ or ‘being a leader….the fact that black women even had to “go natural” shows how much we’ve fucked up and how society has brainwashed us into believing we are less than on the beauty scale because of something God blessed us with…

what’s even more saddening, is not only do black women have to deal with the ignorance of other races not understanding our hair, but we also have to deal with the comments of black men who have fallen into the “bash black hair’ trap….the cycle never ends…

Even though the stigma behind wearing a weave is thought to be fueled by self hatred, on the complete opposite side of the spectrum some women wear weaves to better their natural hair…the elements can be SO harsh on black hair and sometimes it just needs a break. wearing a weave helps maintain hair growth while protecting it from the weather for months at a time.

Also some black women just love to change up their looks every once in awhile and they do so by wearing a weave because it’s much easier than dying, growing, or cutting their natural hair…so let them have fun expressing themselves…

in my experience, i’ve had multiple white women strictly assume that black women wear weaves to “get like them” 

nope

nuh uh

don’t

flatter

 yourself

honey

i mean because

black

women

are

the only

ones

who

do

this shit

right?

Omg the last one

darksilenceinsuburbia:

Ruth Duckworth
Untitled
1998
In 1968 Ruth Duckworth began making “wall sculptures”-monumental murals that underscore the artist’s mastery of her medium. Combining geometric and organic forms, she reduces the subdivided planes to the most elemental abstractions. With its circles and subtly curved forms, this relief suggests the female body. Duckworth, however, sees the inherent sensuality as stemming from a more universal connection to nature, biology, and the cosmos.

darksilenceinsuburbia:

Ruth Duckworth

Untitled

1998

In 1968 Ruth Duckworth began making “wall sculptures”-monumental murals that underscore the artist’s mastery of her medium. Combining geometric and organic forms, she reduces the subdivided planes to the most elemental abstractions. With its circles and subtly curved forms, this relief suggests the female body. Duckworth, however, sees the inherent sensuality as stemming from a more universal connection to nature, biology, and the cosmos.

There’s a reason I haven’t addressed my bisexuality publicly till now. From the time I first came out, the gay community at large hasn’t been a place where I felt comfortable or confident expressing who I really am without the risk of being ridiculed or derided. I listened to what gay men and lesbians thought, quite openly, about bisexuals (fence-riders, basically, who enjoy heterosexual privileges while partnering with members of one’s own sex). As far as I was concerned, I was a gay man who was attracted to women, but I’ve seldom come out about that for fear of becoming an outsider among outsiders. I didn’t trust that even my gay male friends (or especially my gay male friends) would relate, and most of all, I didn’t want any of my women friends — mostly lesbians — to ever think my fondness for them was anything but platonic.
When I Call Myself Bisexual | Don Weise for the Huffington Post Gay Voices (via stawpheterophobia)
monolithzine:

The Ring of Fire by David Hardy

monolithzine:

The Ring of Fire by David Hardy

albertoguerra:

Entrance to the underworld / Kankirixché dzonot, Yucatán
Ball pen on paper

albertoguerra:

Entrance to the underworld / Kankirixché dzonot, Yucatán

Ball pen on paper

70sscifiart:

Astronauts explore the unknown. From my archives, featuring works by Chesley Bonestell, Chris Foss, Bruce Pennington, and more.

magictransistor:

Édouard Riou, Voyage au centre de la Terre (Journey to the Center of the Earth), Jules Verne, 1864.

acamouflage:

Irwiv Live, 1996Photograph by Mariusz Michalski

acamouflage:

Irwiv Live, 1996
Photograph by Mariusz Michalski

streloff:

Wassily Kandinsky, “Dance Curves: On the Dances of Palucca” (1926)

Dancer and choreographer Gret Palucca (1902-1993) was a former student of Mary Wigman, the leading figure in German Expressionist dance. In 1925, Palucca opened her own dance studio in Dresden and developed close contacts with various Bauhaus instructors, many of whom greatly admired her dance style. Wassily Kandinsky’s four “analytical drawings,” which were based on photographs of Palucca by Charlotte Rudolph, illustrate how closely the dancer’s style coincided with the Bauhaus aesthetic. The drawings and photographs were published in the arts journal Das Kunstblatt in 1926. According to Kandinsky, Palucca’s “principal assets” were “1. Simplicity of the whole form, and 2. Construction of the large form.”

aerbor:

sin título by sophie curtis on Flickr.
girl-o-matic:

Vintage mermaid print from The Big Story Book, 1938

girl-o-matic:

Vintage mermaid print from The Big Story Book, 1938


Brett Whiteley (Australian, 1939-1992), The Divided Unity, 1974. Screenprint, 66.5 x 93.5 cm. Edition 63/70.

Brett Whiteley (Australian, 1939-1992), The Divided Unity, 1974. Screenprint, 66.5 x 93.5 cm. Edition 63/70.