Thursday 25 August 2011

GRACE JONES/ NIKKAI PHOENIX HAIR INSPIRATION

I cut my hair!

I know, I know... But it couldn't be helped. I allowed my hair stylist trim my hair after doing box braids a few weeks back. The result of that trim on my hair after undoing the braids is better left imagined. Suffice to say, my afro disappeared and I can't quite find the words to describe what was left on my head. :(

After styling and re-styling, I came up with a look that was a cross between Boy Ajasco and Grace Jones. My baby brother loved it! I was sceptical... It kinda looked good... in a crazy, weird but fierce, 'I don't give a sh**' kinda way. That has always been my style anyway. Hnmm...

Long story summarised... I rocked it! And turned heads... guys and gals. I got a few cards and have a few new boyfriends.
One of these new boyfriends said he couldn't remember the last time he saw a woman wear her natural hair. I felt very cool with myself, I won't lie.

Anyways, I 'sampled' the look till Wednesday before my mind was made up. I was going to rock the Nikka Phoenix/ Grace Jones/ Punk look!  Off to the barbers, Wednesday evening and voila, I have my look! I admit to cringing and screaming at the barber a few times. ( The rate at which he was hacking the hair off really made my heart palpitate.) I must confess that I didn't allow him take down the front of the hair so much. ( I wanted to retain my Boy Ajasco or is it Alinco look?)

My Inspiration.







Really looks like this. ^_^

Simply Fierce!!!


Pictures coming soon.




Let's gooo!


Isi-Aki.

INSPIRATION BOARD


A reminder from Nature to me to dress bright & fun! Less black. More colour. The snake looks amazing! :p

Layers & layers of accessories. Lurv the beads.

I cut my hair!! Story soonest.

Sepha gladiator sandals.

Recent purchase from the Arts and Crafts Village.

Sculpture - 'Girls Just Want To Have Fun.' A reminder to let my hair down ...sometimes.




  xx

Isi-Aki.

Sunday 21 August 2011

ANGEL


The room was dimly lit. Colourful disco lights flashed and winked intermittently, emphasizing the thick cloud of grayish cigarette smoke hovering above the heads of the patrons of the club. From the huge speaker, Fela Kuti’s 1970 hit belted out “Yellow Fever…Your face go yellow… your yansh go black…You dey bleach…you ugly thing…

At the lounge perched on high stools at the bar, four girls sat sipping from different lipstick stained glasses, chatting amiably. Two stood nearby shaking and moving their bottoms and thighs garishly exposed in tight leather skirts in a manner that would have made the late Afro beat maestro’s dancers green with envy.

Breasts inadequately clad in scanty tops, a clutter of necklace and bangles jingled musically in accompaniment with every expert movement. Restless eyes darted around the room while her other parts were otherwise actively engaged, searching out prospective customers.

“Angel, Angel…baby oku, na wa o!” One of the seated girls called out to the more petite and buxom of the two who now had her hands cupping her breasts suggestively.

“You dey enjoy yourself o!” Fingers with long purple painted nails lifted a smoldering cigarette to lips painted in an equally bizarre shade of purple. A thin eyebrow was drawn dramatically, almost touching the short fringe of the blonde wig.

“Angel Angel” twirled around and came to an abrupt stop as she bent her knees and engaged her best effort in shaking her bottom in a manner that would have made a seasoned stripper ask for lessons. At this move, the girls hooted and clapped noisily.

Abeg, baby e don do!” A dark skinned girl dressed in a top that would have been best described as a handkerchief urged. “Please take a beer on my bill. Mr Barman!”

Angela joined them at the bar at that, fanning her profusely sweating body ineffectively with her hands.

I no know what kind of fever be dey hold me all week. So glad I’m back!” She winked mischievously at her friends, raising a cigarette to her lips which was promptly lit by another girl.

“Fever ke?” The girl with the blonde wig spat derisively. “Like Oga Blakky wants to know if you are about to die!"

“No work, no food!” Another girl called Tina retorted. “Me, I no get Oga Blakky power. E don dey look this side since!”

Angel shot a surreptitious look and indeed the Proprietor of the establishment of the establishment was glowering in their general direction. Angel ducked her head into the glass of lager she held.

Oga Blakky as he was known to his “employees” was 6ft 8” and built like an ox. With his charcoal black complexion and shaven head; he was an awe – inspiring sight. And if that was not enough, then the fact that he had arms built like an oak tree which looked like they could snap a lesser formed human being into two and the ugly scowl he usually wore when he was in a foul mood was definitely a deterrent to customers who allowed their drink to get the better of their senses and staff who mistook his otherwise benign nature for weakness.

He was manager/ pimp/ head-bodyguard and chief cook. A hard worker who didn’t give himself a quarter, he certainly didn’t give anyone else under his establishment an inch.

Omo, no work o!” Tina interjected breaking into Angel’s thoughts. “Omo” was her favourite word and it didn’t matter to her that at 18, she was the youngest in the group and could qualify as a child amongst the jaded resident prostitutes in the establishment.

She had come to Oga Blakky out of the blue one morning after his establishment “Red Fox” had been recommended to her as a place brimming full of “jobs”. Unfortunately, the only vocation open to her at the time had been that of a prostitute. In return for boarding, food and a place to turn her tricks, she would pay a token sum from her earnings each week. Tina hadn’t batted an eye – brow. She’s been sexually molested by her step-father since she’d been eleven. By the time she’d finished her Secondary School education, she’d had more lovers than a girl that age should. She had barely managed to complete her exams as it were. She’d found herself on the streets when her mother had forgotten her shopping money one fateful afternoon and had returned from her trip to the market and found her husband in mid-pump, locked in ecstasy within the arms of her daughter. All of Hell and Hades had broken loose and Tina had found herself out on the streets with her mother once again refusing to listen. Last time they had heard, the scum of the earth was still living with Tina’s mother and chasing after pre-pubescent girls in the neighbourhood.

“I need some action now. I’m on fire.” Tina spouted now. Life had turned her into an addict, her drug being sex, only now she got paid for it.

Just then, a group of men walked into the club-house. The girls immediately abandoned their poise of lassitude and moved onto the new comers with the speed of carrion birds descending on carcass. They jostled and cursed each other, friendship momentarily forgotten in their struggle for business – for survival.

Angel approached an averagely built man in the group with the shoulders of a boxer. He was well dressed and rugged in a handsome kind of way.

“Hello Lovey.” She drawled in her husky dark voice. Her tiger eyes…captivating, sensuous, inviting…her best feature captured the stranger as his locked hers. A long painted nail trailed down his chest to his stomach.

“I’m Angel. You want me to show you a good time?” She asked in perfect English. “I’m not expensive. Just treat me right and I’m all yours, handsome.”

The man checked her out unashamedly, sliding his arms casually around her shoulders.

“What’s your charge?”

She licked her lips and beckoned him closer so she could whisper a sum into his ears.

“I promise you a wild night.” She finished wantonly. The man threw his head back and laughed while the hand he had thrown casually over her shoulders moved to her full bottom and squeezed…once…twice. Angel threw her head back and laughed with him, her tiger eyes sparkling.



  xx
Isi-Aki.

Saturday 13 August 2011

COOL BEANS TEES

I am a big fan of  'Made in Nigeria' brands. We are a fashionable bunch, aren't we? So it's with excitement I introduce to you - Cool Beans. The name Cool Beans had been tossed around a bit and I had glimpsed a bit of the designs from this budding label before they were formally launched. Their creativity, quality and amazing designs have guaranteed that they are one brand name that has come to stay in Nigeria.

The term Cool Beans means something that is awesome and amazing and was popular in the 60's. It definitely lives up to the times because the designs are simply radical yet fashionable.

They recently exhibited their designs in Abuja and I was totally blown away by their quality, designs and home grown creativity.

For all the Super Cool Beans.

A different take of the subject with the design.

Cool, white & definitely not basic. My favorite!

Any geeks in the house?

Cool.

T-shirt humor.

Great play on words. Deep message.


Cheerful color
The roots.

One of my personal favorites with the hints of Lagos.

Visit www.cackland.com and shop online.

CACKLAND: - Shop D20,Adeniran Ogunsanya shopping mall,Surulere. +2348028193237

FOLLOW THEM ON TWITTER; - @coolbeanstweets

To purchase in Abuja, follow  @Diophie on Twitter.


About to lounge in Cool Beans... ^_^


  xx

Isi-Aki.

Friday 12 August 2011

LOLU POLO 1960


With the brand LL, their ethos is simple; - There's nothing more appealing than a well-dressed person. Presenting their line of  fitted polo shirts made in luxury cotton fabric for men and women with ornately embroided badges. Available in various colors.


 





  xx

Isi-Aki.

RED BUTTON TRADITIONAL WEAR BY LL


RED BUTTONS are traditional (native) garments made with precision tailoring that ensures that debonair look by using fabrics that are SIMPLE and CLASSIC. The look features RED BUTTONS, breast pockets, polka dot pocket squares and optional 18Carat Gold-wire badges. The look is ideal for weddings, parties and work. Available in ready to wear or made to measure.




LÓLÚ
+447949349864 (London)
www.loluonline.com


 xx

Isi-Aki.

LOLU HANDMADE SHOES


LÓLÚ is a brand that combines TRADITION and STYLE  with CLASS, SOPHISTICATION and TIMELESS ELEGANCE for a  look that is EFFORTLESSLY sharp.  Shoes and Clothing are HANDMADE by expert craftsmen. LÓLÚ takes inspiration from AFRICAN/ BRITISH fashion, to create pieces craved by modern day Afropolitans. Focus is on HAND - MAKING all products within the UK, sourcing materials from the best suppliers all over the world. Shoes are HANDMADE with traditional techniques using the finest leathers, velvet, satin quilt, and leather sole. Monograms, family crest and customised designs are all HAND EMBROIDERED, using 18CARAT GOLDWIRE (optional).




 





LÓLÚ
+447949349864 (London)
www.loluonline.com


  xx

Isi-Aki.

Friday 5 August 2011

FAVORITE LOOKS FOR THE WEEKEND

Love the print. Comfortable enough for a Saturday at the market or an evening stroll.

Perfect for the mall or cinema or even a drink with a couple of friends.

For that wedding or Sunday service.

With a mad pair of green heels, would totally rock this in a club!

No fuss! Totally glam!



TGIF!!!


Let's gooo!

  xx


Isi-Aki.

COME IN UNIFORM!

It seems I'm resigned to blog about my love life! Believe me when I say that was furthest from my intention when I began the blog. Okay, truthfully, I knew there would be one or two tidbits but the sudden unusual activity in that area of my life is causing me some concern much to the amusement/ hilarity of a couple of my close friends.

I've always loved a man in uniform. By now, y'all know that a man in a good suit makes me smile but a man in military regalia makes me go absolutely gaga! The feeling came upon me rather suddenly. Growing up, I was absolutely terrified of uniformed men, from the police to the soldiers. The mopols were my all time least favorites. (They probably still are. I mean there's no playing with those guys, asin dey no dey laugh!)

Hnmph!
As a teenager, I remember conversations  my mom would have with a cousin of hers over the phone who was a top shot in the Police Force. She would always holler "Come in Uniform!" teasingly at him, a salutation of sorts. I would just roll my eyes and pull a face, thinking 'blinking olopa'. Apparently that nickname has a long story which I'm not about to go into but the truth is a couple of years later, I can understand the pride and respect in her voice. A lot of women find a man in the uniform extremely appealing. I am not exempted. Some would say that I should be more interested in the man wearing in the uniform. I totally agree.

Why do women find a man in uniform so appealing? (And I'm not talking about the typical Lagos olopa. I'm going to focus on the imagery of a man in the Navy for the simple reason that they appear more civilised thus they are my favorite arm of the military.) Seriously, what makes a man in uniform utterly irresistable to a woman? What is it?

     The Commander-in-Chief.


Why does a normally articulate woman suddenly feel like she has a mouthful of marbles and can only giggle like a school girl  at the sight of a uniformed man? I'm guilty as charged. At a dinner organised recently by a client of mine, I had the privilege to be seated between two hawt American marine corps detailed to the American Embassy in Abuja. I still wonder at how I was able to make intelligent conversation! As if  being hawt male specimens was not enough, then add military join, plus those muscles to show for it. Chai!

Universal appeal.
I've been known to jump at the offer to have a drink at the exclusive officer's mess hidden somewhere here in Abuja by a Captain friend just so I could oogle at the georgeous guys in their sparkling whites to my heart's content. Simply gorgeous! What makes them look so.... mouthwateringly good?

I think it's because they look so responsible, they have to be responsible! Does that make any sense? They are responsible to their position, their country, their team, their superiors. I tend to think that responsibility spills over to other areas.

I actually had to do a research on this one because it's hard to find a woman from 18 - 81 whose knees do not go weak at the sight of a sharply dressed man in uniform. Men in uniform appear committed. The ladies will agree that committment is something the men shy away from but a man in uniform shows he can committ to something.  I mean,  that's a start isn't it? He's committed to his job, serving his nation, his team. He will be just as committed to you, abi?

A man in uniform is always crisp and tidy. Their uniforms are fitted and in good condition, so it's extremely hard to be slouchy and untidy in a uniform, right? And they exude confidence. They seem to stand taller and speak more clearly. Women love a confident man and boy, do they know it! Men in uniform command respect by the authority they seem to represent and they act accordingly. It is extremely rare for a man in uniform to act out of character. He knows he is constantly being watched.

This long rigmarole and shameless  gushing leads up to a confession...
There's a man in the military who seems to be keenly interested in me and wants us to be 'maybe something permanent'. *covering my face* Upon discovering his intentions, I think I went completely speechless, my usually glibe tongue couldn't think of anything witty or clever to dismiss the suggestion. Could that mean I'm actually considering it?!? Eeek! I lamented to my good friend A.O and she had a great time laughing her head off at me. I mean, it's one thing to love a man in uniform, it another thing to marry him, is it not? Hah!
Don't get me wrong. I love the military. I love the honest, gruelling, lay-your-life-on-the-line job they do protecting our nation and its citizens. Incredible display of loyalty. And the troops who go out on peace missions to warring nations? I cannot even begin to describe the awe I feel for them. The Police, the Navy, the Airforce, the Secret Service, etc.
At some point, I seriously considered joining the Navy and I still consider it from time to time...but the usual questions always pop up which form the basis of my reservations about my 'admirer'.
As much as you mutter 'Dayum' under your breath and have to pick your jaw from the ground at the sight of a uniformed man, would you marry a man in the military? /:)
There, I got it out!!! I'm not totally ignorant about men...and women in any of the forces. I have a couple as friends, have dated one or two. They are incredibly funny and witty. I would lose my breath at some of the dirty jokes they told. (Seamen are terrible!) I guess you have to have a extreme sense of humor to go through some of the experiences a lot of these fellows have. Despite their intimidating and gruff  exteriors,  a lot of them are actually soft-spoken, very caring, super sensitive (know that one for a fact) and know how to have a good time. They are also men and women of integrity and moral fiber.

The Abia Prince who is more interested in peace keeping than the throne.
From the way I've spent the last couple of paragraphs lauding the men in uniform, y'all are probably thinking I may have convinced myself to give my uniformed admirer a chance at something 'maybe permanent'?
Well, I'm not forgetting the months away from home on some peace mission while I worry if he's going to get a bullet in the heart or head or worse, catch a grenade. Or the constant transfers and relocation. Or the totally regimented life. Then there's the killing people part; I know it's part of defending,  protecting and serving your nation but...Eish! Can I deal with it?
Finally, the all time worst thing I can't stand about a man in uniform is how it's totally impossible to cajole him into changing his mind about anything once it's made up!
Some friends say they have anger issues and are women wrappers but I disagree. If anger and promiscuity are not the inherent nature of a man, then such a man will not suddenly act against his grain because he is in the military. Those characteristics would have always been a part of you, military or no. My opinion.

Others say it's lovely to sit on the outside and admire the military lifestyle, but families of men in the military absolutely hate the military lifestyle, towns etc. A large majority of the wives would leave in a heartbeat if they could. Eeek!

So what do you guys say? Would you marry a man...or woman in the military?

And please leave love matter out of it. In terms of practicality, would you?  Funny though, my mind keeps flashing to Prince William and Duchess of Cambridge's wedding while I drafted this post... And Uti Nwachuku and Munachi Abii's look courtesy Weddings by MAI? Glorious!

Classic military couple.

Loving the men in the groom's family.

Loving the look.


Weddings by Mai.

I'm a hopeless romantic inspite of myself, am I not? :p

(Btw, has anyone noticed how difficult it is to get pictures of our people in the armed forces? It's a task I tell you!)

Toodle-oo

  xx

Isi-Aki.