The Right Style

Another Again: Miss Jessie’s Titi Branch, Gone at 45

Titi Branch was a woman who could not be missed. Her explosion of gorgeous blonde highlighted curls made you take notice and say, “Who is she?!” When I first saw Miss Jessie’s co-founders, Miko and Titi Branch, I immediately said, “Damn, I’ll have some of what they’re having.” I discovered Miss Jessie’s during my short-lived stint as a long-haired naturalista. I was always on the hunt for products that would make my super-fine hair do things that it was not naturally inclined to do. I admired the sisters and their story, who took their home whipped hair concoctions and grew them into a successful startup with a product carried by national chains and a veritable lifestyle brand. The two of them seemed to be living a perfect dream– sisters working together and building wealth and acclaim.

I heard the news of Titi’s passing, an apparent suicide, via a middle of the night Facebook update. The Bloggers Like Me network  is a community of multicultural women throughout the country who share experiences and advice about life, business and of course, blogging. The BLM Facebook group is always a hot bed of activity and the news hit the group, some of whom are natural hair bloggers, pretty hard. She was someone who brought our beauty to the mainstream and helped to give women permission to love their hair. To me, the loss felt like another defeat.

Depression can be like a ghost. It follows you around, lurking in the shadows, hidden to everyone’s eyes but yours. Sometimes, it’s hard to acknowledge that what you feel is real and choose, instead, to keep it hidden, tucked out of sight, away from people’s prying eyes and solicitous questions. I know that feeling. I have been deep inside of that feeling. So when I hear about another celebrity suicide, another death of someone I admire, I hang my head and cry. Sometimes, it feels like the darkness always manages to win.

Fortunately, there is help available. If you or a loved one are struggling with depression and thoughts of suicide, please contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at suicidepreventionlifeline.org or call them at 1-800-273-TALK (8255). People are there. Help is available.

Love and peace to the family of Titi Branch.

TRS Pick: GlamST, launching now!

If you’re anything like me, you’ve spent stupid amounts of time scanning celebrity photos and pinning them to your Pinterest board. These posts all serve as little virtual Post-Its reminding me to “try this look.” I can even get a little old school sometimes, spreading my magazines and makeup around me like a little girl playing dress-up. I swatch and apply so many lipsticks that sometimes I feel like I’m running the risk of rubbing my lips right off of my face.

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Travel Tips: Get Your Beauty TSA Approved!

It’s news to no one that the holiday season is hella stressful. Don’t get me wrong– there is boundless fun to be had. I’m stacking party invites to the ceiling and I can hardly think of a better time of year to scoop up free fizzy drinks, tiny food and chortle merrily whilst wearing casual sequins and antlers.

But the constant partying and gift buying and endless loops of the same ten songs can get you down after awhile. But nothing, and I mean nothing, gets people down more than holiday travel. It can seem as if the whole world is going exactly where you are at exactly that same moment. Long lines at the airport and the stop-and-frisk tactics of the TSA have you irritated before you even get inside the dry, recycled air palace that is an airplane. Dehydrated and puffy, you stumble off of the plane, greet your relatives and immediately seek to wrap your taste buds in the creamy comfort of a spiked eggnog. Shoot. You deserve it, girl!

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The Weekender

I am exhausted, guys. I woke up this morning at 6:30 as per usual, but I felt like perhaps I might be waking up for the last time. I had actually gone to bed the night before– I am notorious for falling asleep on the couch. Or on the living room floor. Whatever. Don’t judge me.– but I woke up feeling like I had slept on a hardwood floor, perhaps in a ball gown, definitely something with boning. What in the world was I so fricking tired for?! I drug myself out of bed, put on an extremely colorful winter ensemble and took my butt to work.

So, as I’m plugging away at my editing station, it hit me. I am the busiest that I have been in a very long time. It’s the end of the year so naturally, it’s award ceremony time. And with the award ceremonies come cocktail hours and hotel dinners. It’s also holiday time aka the most travelingest time of the year. I spent a weekend away once this season and am planning at least a couple more before the season is out. But I am woefully WOEFULLY unprepared. Unfortunately for me,  I realized this as I dragged my Kate Spade tote and schlumpy  duffle all through the New York subway system.

Dealing with my out of alignment back and probably dislocated rotator cuff got me to spring into immediate action. I call this shopping trip, Operation Jetset.

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Facing Freedom

I have always, for as long as I can remember, been bothered by my face. When I was young, elementary school-aged, my chin was the problem. It was little and pointy and I always felt that it looked like an afterthought, like I had been rolling around in the womb and going through the pre-birth checklist, “Head: lips, eyes, ears, nose….oh wait…CHIN!” and then it appeared, popped on at the very last minute.

I became aware of the crookedness of my teeth since age nine and soon after, stopped smiling with my mouth open until I got the ultimate suburban accessory– braces. Years later, my teeth came back to haunt me in the form of a Virginia Museum of Fine Arts Fall 1996 brochure. I remember my classmates coming screaming into the cafeteria, waving orange and purple letter-sized pamphlets. “Kerri!! Kerrrrrriiiiiiii! Is this youuuuuuuuu?!!!” And it was. On the cover, I’m talking the entire cover, was 8 year old me, teeth-besnaggled and on full display. At the sensitive age of 11, this was the ultimate humiliation.

I grew into my face and my teeth, assisted by nearly 5 years of braces, straightened themselves out. I battled acne all through my teenage years and ran a constant battle with the blemishes and hyper-pigmentation that that acne left behind. I, fortunately, had great skincare and boy, did I have makeup. Makeup helped me to FINALLY feel pretty. I was never one to glop it on but it did have a certain placebo effect for me. I had a good face underneath it all but with my magical makeup, I could banish the dark circles that had always plagued me, I could give myself some eyebrows (any shape I wanted!) and I could make people believe that I was beautiful.

But recently, I spent some time with a friend who has known and seen me in nearly every state imaginable, from pukey ill to black-tie ready. I hadn’t put my makeup on yet and he said unprompted, “You know, you’re not really one of those girls who needs makeup. I don’t mind it, but you look pretty good already.”

That struck me. So last week, I went to work without makeup. Intentionally. I was fully dressed and about to do my face and then, I stopped. I looked at myself in the mirror. Really looked. My skin was soft and smooth. I’d started using BeautiControl’s new Instant Radiance Beauty Balm (full review forthcoming) so my skin was actually kind of glowing. I was there and that was me and I was happy and healthy. I looked at myself in the mirror and I finally felt alright.

Kerri, 4 years old.

Four year old me, the thumb sucking Olympian.

Kerri, The Clents and Kendra

My godfather, Clenton, having a DC day with, from left, 10 year old me, my godbrother “Little” Clent, and my sister Kendra.

No makeup.

Me at 29. No makeup, no filter, no editing and apparently, no earrings.