Black & Gold

The New Orleans Saints are hosting their training camp here in my hometown, something done at least since Hurricane Katrina. So what does that mean? It means that Kim Kardashian was here for a hot second, it reminded me of Sam Sparro, and I have an excuse to post!



(This was the only version I could find that would embed from youTube, so ignore the talking at the beginning and end). Sam Sparro is an amazing singer (who got the stamp of approval from a legend, Chaka Khan) from Australia. "Black & Gold" is likely not his first single, but it was the first song I ever heard from him, and I was HOOKED! His album is filled with varied sounds but he always seems to come back to this electronic, club music that he blends with his smooth, sexy voice. I love the entire album and how open he is about his sexuality, and I am certain that with the right promotion he could reach gay icon status one day. How many openly homosexual male singers are there, after all? I think that will either be one more thing in his favor or ultimately his downfall though I am hoping for the former.

Here he is singing a cute cover of Estelle's "American Boy". I love his sweater, but then I love his style, in general! I think I will do another post on him in the coming days.



I was going to post a bunch of black and gold clothes too, but I just decided that Sam Sparro is a touch act to follow, inanimate or no. If I find any worthwhile and I am sure I will, I will post it under Black & Gold part 2.

PS. I think it's funny how I went from (briefly) mentioning football, a "man's man" activity, to an openly gay singer! :-D The things we do for a posting topic.

The Place to be

The past 2 weekends have cemented 2 things in my mind: 1) being drunk for 48 hours straight is not a good idea (especially for a rookie like me), and 2) I love, love, love gay clubs, and I am sure there are many kinds but I mean the really techno-heavy, house mix, sweat-your-hairdo-out gay clubs. It's probably because I get called fierce, which (is kinda dated but) I love only because the gay guys I know would never say it if they didn't mean it, as well as getting to wear some smokin' hot outfit without getting hit on (as many black lesbians I have seen appear to frequent straight clubs to hear hip-hop/r&b/top 40 hits). It's fantastic to dance the night away without your "radar" on. You know, having to be on the lookout that some ugly guy is gonna creep up on you and start humping your leg. Aside from the confines of my iPod headphones, it's the only type of place I can listen to Madonna, Whitney, and Janet club mixes to my heart's content, and actually (gasp!) enjoy Britney and Rihanna songs. Plus the guys are often hot and shirtless (sometimes pants-less, due to the check your pants at the door, get in free Saturday night they had), so there is eye candy abundance.

The one place that Roomie and I attend with something like regularity is be bar, as Roomie's ex-roomie, our incredibly stylish friend, we'll call her Maven (short for Fashion Maven, natch), works there. We also bring our cool, hip, and metrosexual Rock Band buddy By with us. He's great. So anyway this one particular night, I was coaxed (not hard, since I was already tipsy) into doing my "model walk" down the sidewalk in this:


I soooo would've been a late 80's early 90's queen! See, Susan? Took your advice and wore the jacket. I loved it...the whole look. The dress is this thick-strapped, tight fitting number that made my body look fantastic in person. Yes, my head is swelling. Stupid lighting...the tights were the same bright purple as one of my fave Urban Decay eyeshadows, Flash, which I was wearing.


I would show it to you but I hate close-ups of my face. Trust me when I say it was great. I had my kohl black Diorshow mascara and did a mod/Amy Winehouse winged eye with my eyeliner, which I highlighted and blended with the purple on my lid and did stark purple under my lower lashes. I love a dramatic eye for night! Although in the club (and in the pics, apparently) it was hardly visible, I knew it was there and that's what matters, right? Long story short, I had a fantastic time although vodka and tequila were emanating from my pores all weekend. Yuck.