When Men Wear Skirts

Good morning, afternoon, evening...where are my menz at?
I've been thinking about you recently and the cage y'all lock yourselves into this idea that men cannot wear anything other than trousers and still remain men. And I want you to think back really and ask yourselves where this idea came from.
If you're not a European of English descent, it is likely that your ancestors wore something other than trousers on a daily basis and yet they were and looked more 'manly' than you do.
Then came toxic masculinity in the form of germanic traditions and suddenly there was a whole list of things that men 'can't do' and remain men.
And somehow y'all adopted it and decided that masculinity can only be defined in Anglo Saxon terms.
My hero when it comes to men's fashion is Junior Nyong'o. Lupita's brother is the complete global citizen, the renaissance man who does not let your narrow, short-sighted ideas limit him from being all he can be. One day he's starring as Hamlet on Broadway, the next he's writing lines for Too Early for Birds at Kenya National Theatre.
Today he wears jeans, tomorrow he's in a skirt.
He's the very epitome of what freedom looks like.

Men love to police women's clothes. This is a well-known fact. What is less acknowledged is how much they police men's looks. There is a very narrow idea of what is acceptable to wear and still be considered manly. With the "new gentleman" fronted by Pharrell Williams, Pretty Flacko and Lil' Uzi Vert (yes!) we're seeing a resurgence of freedom in fashion. Of course, this is a factor of people going back in time, learning their history, discarding the lie we have been told for years...that ours is bad, theirs is good.
Donald Trump might be a disaster but he really illustrates that it's an ill wind that blows nobody any good. As a result of his blatancy and just general awfulness, he has forced people to confront who they really are and what values they hold.
This blog post is just going to consist of pictures I've seen of mainly Africans, not wearing trousers, not having shorn or short hair, wearing jewellery...just generally being all they can be. Let us remind ourselves that we don't all have to live in that one box, with that one look. Being adventurous is a good thing. Let us embrace it.

The Empire of Ethiopia lasted from 1274 to 1974. Emperor Haile Selassie wore his hair in curls and plaits.

Kingdom of Ghana: 700 - 1240 ad. No trousers in sight

Asante Kingdom in Ghana: 1670-1957 what even are trousers?

The Hausa of Nigeria: 1000 to 1903

Please note the complete lack of anything resembling trousers in all the pics. Here are some more.

Zulu Chief in his basically unmentionables

It's not just Africans though. In the Scottish Highlands for example:

Men in Kilts

Why they practically wear skirts.

Somalis have never really changed their way of dressing..

Somali Sultanate: 9th century to 1910

Let's branch out to other continents. New Zealand for example.

traditional Maori clothing

The sad part is that we all know this. We know that there is more to clothes than just wearing pants all the time. So many ways to style hair and wear jewellery. But most men, especially African men and black men in general, seem stuck on this Eurocentric idea that manhood = trousers.

Let us set ourselves free people.

Don't Worry Be Happy

Happy new month.
I shall be 45 years old in T-7 days.
When I got pregnant with Chris, twenty years ago, I made a vow that I would dedicate the next twenty years to him, and then when I turned 45, I'd be off to Jamaica to get my groove back. During his football years, we always used to say he'd go off to play for Manchester United and I would go open a bar on the beach in Jamaica. I would hang out in a sarong and a bikini and listen to people's problems in my role as bartender.
Of course, Chris did not join Man-Utd. Instead, he's a first-year student of Architecture and I am nowhere near ready to leave him - nor is he ready to be left. So I guess I'll defer the Jamaican bar on the beach until I'm 52; when Chris will join the workforce...
This umbilical cord thing guys...it's a trap.

In the meantime, I shall grow my dreadlocks until they're down to my butt and write a few more books. Maybe lose some weight so I have a so-called bikini-bod by then à la Gammy.

In the meantime, there's a lot to do.
The earth is being destroyed before our eyes. At this rate there really will be no earth for my grandchildren to inherit. Or they might be living in an In Search of Paradise world. Nobody needs that shit. My grandkids don't deserve to be foraging for water and clean air. Nobody does.
Why are we letting a bunch of idiotic white men destroy everything for the rest of us? The Internet has made it so that the myth of the superior white man is easily dispelled. Why are we still held in thrall?
Wake Up!

If Climate Change is too involved for you, well, there is always the Daily Mail which if we all stopped reading, stopped clicking on the untrue stories it writes about people, maybe they'd stop or turn their attention to something else.
People are dying because they surround themselves with negativity and then take drugs to escape from the negativity in their lives. How about just not seeking it out? How about, accentuate the positive and eliminate the negative?
I was watching the Happy video the other day and reflecting on how different the world was when it came out. Yeah, people had problems but the overall feel in the air was one of optimism...Yes, We Can and all that. I guess it's really true what they say; one person can change the world.
Now all there is, is the orange mosquito buzzing in everyone's ears and giving us all a headache; not to mention sprouting copycats everywhere on earth.
It's disheartening.
That's why I try as much as possible to keep my life free of Cheeto Mussolini.

But this is about happiness, and cultivating the happy in your life. You might think, "Oh you can say that, Annemarie, because your life is going great."
Actually, it's not. I have this neighbour that went from Ms Jeklyll to Ms Hyde in the blink of an eye. She wants to kill my dog.
Literally.
I've been forced to reinforce my fence just to make extra sure my dog can't go into her compound when it's loose in case she feeds it poisoned food or hits it over the head. I think she's the one who killed my other dog. This hostility coming out of nowhere like that makes no sense otherwise.
Of course, she could just be jealous of me because I'm fabulous and happy.
She's one of those "church ladies" forever quoting scripture and attending all the masses. But her heart is black as a witch's tit.
It's been a stressful time living in fear for my dog every night, the extra expense of reinforcing the fence...and at the same time, my son has started college.
It's hard, but I am determined to hold on to my happiness. Or should I call it peace? Whatever it is that makes me sleep like a baby every night.
Clean living and a clear conscience.
Looking for that higher self that I am and turning up as her...Her Grace, the Duchess of Sussex said that, not me.

Let's try to support one another to be happy as possible, no?
An announcement before you go: Marcus Devereux's release date has been pushed back to November 9th due to unavoidable circumstances. Please do continue to preorder. My beta reader told me it's a great story. My other beta reader said it's perfect.
Ask them.