Goodbye Hawaii. Goodbye Chicago. Hello Washington, D.C.
Sidenote: There’s a debate going on in one of the threads about Michelle Obama’s appearance. Normally, I stay out of such fracas because I honestly don’t think its relevant. She’s First Lady, not a beauty contestant. But to toss in my two cents — stop. Nothing good will come of this. I don’t like it when people reduce Michelle O. to her body parts and lust all over her. I don’t like it when people talk like she’s the Queen of Sheba. I don’t like it when people accuse her of looking mannish. I goof on how much like Michelle because I do, genuinely, like her and find her fascinating. But there’s no need to cut each other over this issue of “beauty” and its many definitions.
So just stop. It’s not her job to be pretty. I enjoy that she likes to dress with some flare. I enjoy that she has taken to her role as aspirational figure well. But this isn’t America’s Next Top Model. This shouldn’t be an argument at all because her looks are immaterial to what she truly represents —
The first black First Lady. That pretty much beats beauty queen hands down. If she wears cool clothes on top of that, that’s all just extra nuts and syrup on the Sundae.
That said, Daddy/Daughters time! (At the zoo Dec. 30 in Honolulu!) We black folks need our paternal therapy via pictures of Barack hugging his kids. You don’t know how happy this makes people feel. Seriously. Black women alone are OD’ing on this right now. It’s like the Snickers Bar of Hope. Hug your kids, people!