ON ROCKY STEPS

Took a mini weekend getaway to Philly, sometimes a much needed break for the norm is good for the soul. I stopped by the Philadelphia Museum where the iconic Rocky scene was shot thus dubbed the Rocky steps. I couldn't resist doing the running shot and fist pumping in the air as well. 

One of my fave Rocky quotes goes like this.

It ain’t about how hard you hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward. How much you can take and keep moving forward. That’s how winning is done!

A great reminder how staying focused and on your own journey will bring you results. Trust the process. I brought some 80's vibe with this houndstooth jacket that have shoulder pads that could rival a linebacker's and a beret. Headgear is super important to me especially in the cold season. The baldie may not flourish but my accessories to cover it up should.

Don't forget to check out 24 hours in Philly for a few go to places I spotted.

COLD WORLD

I was having a conversation with a friend the other day and by the time I hanged up the phone. I knew I would have to bring this up.

Back in the day, when social media was not around, a time when we jotted down letters and licked postage stamps, the days when we called each other, meet up and have a cuppa. We linked up and had actual face-time. We communicated. You had a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen to your worries, a friend to lean on.  You would meet up with your friend just to meet up. Sometime no words need to be said just being in each other’s company was enough.

Then, social media came about. Great. Even better. We can socialize and see each other on the palm of our hands. Update our posts, put up videos of our cats and dog, ohh and aah at the first baby steps. Post our Game of thrones obsession. We drifted towards people who aligned with our values. The world seemed to find a way to be even more connected. Perfect right? Wrong.

According to a review study from Nottingham Trent University looked back over earlier research on the psychological characteristics, personality and social media use. The authors conclude that “it may be plausible to speak specifically of ‘Facebook Addiction Disorder’…because addiction criteria, such as neglect of personal life, mental preoccupation, escapism, mood modifying experiences, tolerance and concealing the addictive behavior, appear to be present in some people who use [social networks] excessively.

Not just Facebook, all social media platforms but Facebook seems to be the original Godfather. Sitting is the new smoking. We chow it down on our feeds.  That endless scroll. It's the new addiction.

My buddy who I'd been on the phone with was having a tough time but you would never know. All seems pretty and beautiful over on social.  It's easy to forget that life is not like that. You can't put a filter on things. There are some major euphoric moments then down right depressing ones. Nowadays, we mask it or portray that it does not exist or it’s not happening. Which can be debilitating to your health. It made me wonder how many times I have had the urge to call a friend however from their social platforms they seem OK. Fabulous even!

How can you know when someone is crying out for help when everything looks perfect. Filtered and well curated. Don't get me wrong, I love a beautiful layout on social. Visuals are everything to me. I get inspired by them. The colors, the art, the creativity, but we have to remember that's just what you see. No one wakes up with a VSCO filter on them. 

In the past, I've used the line “ I saw them on social, they seem fine.” Which makes me cringe today because what we portray on social is not necessarily what I going on in our day to day life. Things might be thick band that  face-tuned facade. Lord knows I have had my days and the only way I have pushed through is by talking and crying it out to the people around me who love and support me unconditionally. No man is an island! No matter how idyllic your island seems.

Nowadays, when I think of someone randomly, I check up on them. The universe might be telling me something. Caring is what makes us human. 

I love it when I am having actual face time with someone and I forget to check my phone. I find that we always have so much to talk about. I always leave feeling happy, lighter. We live in a cold world but if you have friends and family that warm your heart, reach out to them. Keep those fires alive.  Give someone a call. Tap into that old school way of communication, double tap on their doors not the phone screen.  Reconnect. Make plans to catch a cup of coffee or go for lunch. Talk. Laugh. Hear someone out. Listen. It’s good for the soul.

Took these images in Philly this past weekend. We found an alley that was covered with these beautiful leaves. It's getting really cold, winter is in the air. I find myself gravitating to all things black. I need to bring a little color in my life.

Coat: F21

Dress & Booties: Bershka

Tighs: HM

Sunnies: Ray Bans

GRAFFITI TUNNEL

Growing up in Kenya, my favorite means of transportation was in a Matatu. Minibuses that are used are used to transport people, with their goods anywhere in the city or out of the city. These matatus are vibrant, play loud music, and display amazing graffiti. You can always spot one across town. They are flashy and the attractive art work are eye catching.  They are a culture within themselves. My friends had the patience of job because we would wait for our fave ride for hours. The when it would come along, it was a rugby session to get in. Once inside, it would be akin to a nightclub at 1am. Only the latest hits would blare out from the speakers.

I was walking in this subway tunnel after I got off the train and I knew I had to shoot at this particular location. The tunnels are full of vibrant graffiti art and has made these tunnels have their own identity. It’s true the  Earth would just be EH with ART…

For my look today, casual vibes which have been my go to lately. I love how the colorful maasai accessories gave this street look it's own vibe.

UNMATCHED

I was going through some old images. Of my mother and her sisters. There is a particular picture that is I always look at. It’s mum and her sisters, in a studio with a huge fabric as a back drop. My mum is on the left, her sister Auntie Wairimu is sitting in the middle, aunt Wambui is on the right side and my mum’s little sister, Auntie Njoki is sitted primly on the checkered floor. Eyes directed to the camera sans smile.
The picture was taken in black and white. It has a present day Valencia feel to it. That’s a filter to my non Instagram aficionados. It’s the sixties, where skirts aimed for thigh high heights and despite the modern way of dressing that my mum and sisters had taken on, they still rocked their outfits there own way. The only filters they knew were the ones that drained water.
My mum has an afro that would make Assata Shakur proud. My mum is known to make subtle comments on hemlines and their heights. Being cheeky I always bring up that photo and she smugly says it were the times. The fruit does not fall far from the tree, my reply, - Yes mama, and this are the times. She usually chuckles and shakes her head. Touché
I have an album of images from my mum hey days. When she was a young girl, some with her sisters, others with her friends and cousins. I love seeing how their styles transitioned over the years. From the sixties, to the seventies. There is a picture of my dad in the widest flared pants known to man. Fabric galore. In a pink shirt, with a half jacket vest. He looks at the camera with a sly smile. As if he knows something we don’t. 
My family took pictures galore. My mum has albums on albums which I love to look at. I always learn something new. My best part is asking, so what was going on here? The thing about photography is that it captures a moment in time. Someone once said photos are a return ticket to a moment otherwise gone.
As I was going through the photos, I came across one image that I hold close to my heart. It’s a picture of my mother, her sisters and friends. They had gone to visit my grandmother to show gratitude and thanks for raising their daughter.
The picture is taken at a wide angle, the ladies dressed in their vibrant Kitenge outfits. Head-wraps adorned like crowns. Some have been caught mid clap, others smiling, others mid-stride, my mum was leading some sort of song. Kiondos on their backs.
Boy do they sing! My aunties and mum can be chilling and the next thing is a full blown choir with ululations. A semi turn up of their own. Even in present day. There is no gathering without a song. Or five!
I was there at that event. I remember it vividly because shortly after, my grandma felt ill and passed away. The woman I was named after I wrote about her here
The memory of my aunts and mother at these events. Their style, how they carried themselves, poise, the regality of it all feels me with much nostalgia.
It’s a huge inspiration to me and this is how today’s look came about. The skirt is the the one from Mother and I and the City. The head wrap is what remained of the fabric. I am drawn to loose fitting anything, hence the pink boyfriend shirt.
I am also currently reading Unbowed by the late,indomitable, unmatched, Nobel Laurete Prof Wangari Maathai. It’s such a fascinating read and has been on my booklist forever.
I have a habit of looking up authors when I read their books and images of Queen Maathai are just phenomenal. She was fierce! Just google her. I can’t wait to review it on reads.
Here’s to the unmatched women that inspire us everyday. May know them, may we emulate them.

Skirt and Headwrap: RoshieAnne

Boyfriend Shirt, bag and shoes: Zara