Lockdown has been an experience. The world around me has been scary and chaotic, and my habits have changed to cope. I started off with the best intentions, with dedicated walks and bike rides for exercise and a change of scenery. But this past month especially, it has been difficult to find the energy to go out for more than the most essential errands.
It's been difficult to hear yet more news of police brutality killing yet more innocent black people in a system designed to eradicate us. It's been difficult to hear the statistics, of how black people are several times more likely to die of Covid-19 than white people, and yet the government seem largely unbothered because to class my people as high risk would be to lose our labour that this country relies on to exist, as we are more likely to be key workers. What can I say? Life is pretty un-kawaii and I feel I would be doing not only a disservice to my community but also to myself by not even acknowledging this pain and trauma for the sake of maintaining a breezy, easily readable format on this blog. I would never have started a blog post like this in the past. But I'm a bit too long in the tooth to worry any more about making white people uncomfortable by talking about reality, and while I'm not expecting everyone around me to become a social justice activist, I do expect more than the deafening silence I've experienced from people who should absolutely know better. If you do not care about racial injustice then you do not care about me. End of.
Sometimes I feel like giving up on having an online presence entirely. I don't get off on photo likes, follower numbers, and looking for some level of fame or notoriety. But equally, I cannot underestimate the importance of representation. I may be at a point in my life where I don't need anyone to tell me that I can be whoever I want to be, but I wasn't always like that, and there are still countless black people out there who aren't there yet.
When I started off in this fashion, I was one of maybe a handful of black people in the lolita community. My low quality YouTube videos from the channel I had circa 2011 caused me to receive a message I will never forget, from a black girl who genuinely didn't know that black people could wear this fashion, too. It was so unexpected for me; I didn't realise my channel with barely 100 subscribers could reach someone in this way and do something important. Years later, I was hanging out with some "friends" (all white) who began making fun of a black lolita YouTuber for saying that she wanted to be an inspiration to other black girls out there. They found it hilarious; how could this upstart believe that her YouTube videos be inspiring anybody when we all know that race doesn't matter, right?
Another incident found my white, lolita ex best friend complaining about the fact that it wasn't fair that a black girl had been chosen to model for Metamorphose at a London lolita event. She didn't see anything wrong with saying that "they only picked her to seem PC" in my presence. I would read her blog where she'd try to portray an image of being a kind person who was a great friend and socially aware when she was anything but, until I couldn't keep up the facade anymore. I deserved so much more than walking on eggshells while hurt ravaged my insides for the sake of sparing white people the truth that if they are not actively anti-racist, then they are perpetuating racism and benefiting from it by default.
I considered not posting pictures of myself to end this stream of consciousness, but I do still want to share the happy moments, because black shouldn't have to be synonymous with pain and suffering. I desperately want everyone to step up for black people so that we get to tell more happy stories, get the opportunities we deserve, hear about wonderful black achievements, and see more photos of black people beaming with pride because they are thriving at whatever it is they do. My voice is important. We've read those quotes about how existing as a member of a marginalised group can feel like this radical, political statement, because society doesn't want us to survive, and it most certainly doesn't want us to thrive. So here I am. Surviving this pandemic. Dressing in my favourite clothes to work at home in a job I love (and doing really well at if I do say so myself, even in spite of everything I'm up against in this world).
When I started off in this fashion, I was one of maybe a handful of black people in the lolita community. My low quality YouTube videos from the channel I had circa 2011 caused me to receive a message I will never forget, from a black girl who genuinely didn't know that black people could wear this fashion, too. It was so unexpected for me; I didn't realise my channel with barely 100 subscribers could reach someone in this way and do something important. Years later, I was hanging out with some "friends" (all white) who began making fun of a black lolita YouTuber for saying that she wanted to be an inspiration to other black girls out there. They found it hilarious; how could this upstart believe that her YouTube videos be inspiring anybody when we all know that race doesn't matter, right?
Another incident found my white, lolita ex best friend complaining about the fact that it wasn't fair that a black girl had been chosen to model for Metamorphose at a London lolita event. She didn't see anything wrong with saying that "they only picked her to seem PC" in my presence. I would read her blog where she'd try to portray an image of being a kind person who was a great friend and socially aware when she was anything but, until I couldn't keep up the facade anymore. I deserved so much more than walking on eggshells while hurt ravaged my insides for the sake of sparing white people the truth that if they are not actively anti-racist, then they are perpetuating racism and benefiting from it by default.
I considered not posting pictures of myself to end this stream of consciousness, but I do still want to share the happy moments, because black shouldn't have to be synonymous with pain and suffering. I desperately want everyone to step up for black people so that we get to tell more happy stories, get the opportunities we deserve, hear about wonderful black achievements, and see more photos of black people beaming with pride because they are thriving at whatever it is they do. My voice is important. We've read those quotes about how existing as a member of a marginalised group can feel like this radical, political statement, because society doesn't want us to survive, and it most certainly doesn't want us to thrive. So here I am. Surviving this pandemic. Dressing in my favourite clothes to work at home in a job I love (and doing really well at if I do say so myself, even in spite of everything I'm up against in this world).
Blouse: Vintage Primark I think
Jumperskirt: Pup in a Cup- Btssb
Socks: Bodyline
Cloud Telephone: Vintage Emerson. Gives me Prince "Raspberry Beret" vibes.
I need to take some time for rest and self care. That much is obvious; I am tired and I cannot be in battle mode all the time. But I am not going to let this society destroy me, silence me, and benefit from my efforts while chewing me up and spitting me back out. Not without a fight.
Thank you for reading. Stay safe out there, and please consider the black community at this time if you are not part of it yourself. Black lives matter, and I will say it until the world finally believes it. Will you?
https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/#
Good on you for staying visible, not just as a lolita but an indie brand as well. It must be really tough sometimes and I hope you can take the healing time you need.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much <3 Been taking a lot of breaks from the internet as things have been so overwhelming, and I don't want to burn myself out when there's still so much left to say and do!
DeleteThe lolita community likes to pat themselves on the shoulder on how lovely and welcoming and inclusive we are - but in reality we're just a microcosmos version of what's happening in the mainstream society when it comes to big societal issues. White people are awful at recognising their privilege and taking ownership of their words and actions, and I'm sorry that you had encountered the douchebags in a space that should be safe for you. I have also seen wonderful examples of the lolita community showing solidarity with what's been happening, from individuals raising awareness and donating to bigger things (Lolita Updates creating a post dedicated to sharing black-owned brands or the Paradiso organisers loudly announcing their stance that black lives matter). But as I said, they're just a micro version of the wider world - and we need everyone to acknowledge that black lives matter and act accordingly to reflect that. I hope you will find a safe space to take care of yourself and rest so that you neither get overwhelmed by the news nor feel like you have to continue arguing something that should go without saying. Lots of love xxx
ReplyDeleteThank you, dear <3 Your solidarity during this time hasn't been lost on me and means the world when people I once considered close friends have completely ignored me and not acknowledged any of my words whatsoever. Time is really showing who the true allies are and it's been eye opening. The catalyst for all this was something so terrible and it's hard to deal with... but I'm so glad for the positive things we're seeing as a result. I never would have thought people would be protesting across the planet to stand in solidarity with black people. It's so much to take in! I can only hope this movement continues, and that there is a collective focus on dismantling the racism that all areas of society are built on.
DeleteI appreciate you so much xxx
Thank you for posting this and sharing your voice & experiences. ♡
ReplyDeleteThank you for reading! <3
DeleteI was just thinking it's been a long time since I saw a Black Lolita on tumblr after some, like runelapin, outgrew their love for it!
ReplyDeleteIt absolutely does mean a lot to many girls who are too used to only seeing Black girls pull off more racy styles, something that looks childlike and whimsical, or ladylike and soft... often feels inaccessible, like this kind of femininity is sealed off to certain complexions, certain figures, certain features.
The silence of friends is always deafening, I've experienced it countless times as a Muslim and Arab woman, any time I speak about the plight of Palestinians or Syrians or Uyghur... even genocide and ethnic cleansing is ignored.
Absolutely! Black women are so hypersexualised, and I know part of my interest in lolita fashion to begin with was being able to reject that. It was refreshing for me to be looked at for the odd clothes I was wearing rather than people trying to ogle my body. Soft, non-sexual femininity should be available to anyone, and I'm glad that even if only on a tiny scale, I was able to show that it was possibility for people who look like me.
DeleteI am so sorry to hear that you can relate to the pain of the apathy of people who you would expect to do better, and I'm all too aware of the very harmful stereotypes and daily struggles experienced by Muslim and Arab women. I have had to break away from friends over the years who made it very clear that me caring about mine and other marginalised communities' struggles was an inconvenience to them-- "SJW" talk that would spoil the otherwise fluffy and meaningless chatter they would prefer to have instead. Current affairs create difficult conversations but they are so important to have, and I cannot imagine going through life remaining totally uninformed and uncaring about things unless they directly impact me. I want liberation for my people, but also for other marginalised peoples, too. In the words of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., "No one is free until we are all free."