Category Archives: A little bit about me.

A Hint of My Style, “Vintage Vibe”


I designed this dress, I ❤ it.

Vintage Earrings, passed on to me from my Mother.<3


A vintage turquoise ring I recently bought.<3

A vintage Belt..:)

Vintage clucthes , i bought from a flea market. Can you say "Fancy"?.:)

Of Course a necklace with my motto. ❤ it!

Hello there, Today I just felt like sharing a few pics of some of the things I heart. So now you have an idea of what I’m into. I have dubbed this style “Vintage Vibe”, which is my integrating the new and the old in an unbelievably chic way. :).  Happy Tuesday.



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Artistic Much?? ..


My friend, Lili, and I took some pictures today. Randomly random pictures, our first year at NMSU!!! College life when everyone is off campus enjoying their holiday and you are left alone. Enjoy!!

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~A Mother and A Daughter~

My mother and sister.

I was going through some old photos and I found this amazing picture that honestly made me tear up. It is of my mother and sister probably taken 27 years ago by my dad. The look in my mother’s eyes was so hard to translate, and I think I can only ever get the jest of it, well at least until  I have my own little creation to look at like that. My sister is my mother’s first child,out of five. So here is a picture that brings up all the nostalgia, all the love, all the feelings you mothers must have for your children or you daughters must have for your mothers. So I just had to post this. Mothers, take a moment to embrace your daughters. Daughters, take a moment to think of the lovely strong women who brought you into this world.Love.

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How Do You Feel When You Write?

The other day I was overcome by this sensation as I opened up my notebook and began to scribble in secret gibberish comprehendable by only the four of us; my pen,my paper,my mind and I. It was like electricity rushing through me but instead of making my hair stand up like in the movies when someone encounters so much voltage, it made me feel alive, in place. I started to wonder if this was normal, if it is only my heart that beats with fulfilment and elation once pen meets paper? If I am the only human on earth that makes myself smile upon completing that final chapter? Every time I write (without fail or doubt) I know this is my nirvana, even when the words don’t come out right and end up on paper balls in dustbins I still felt extreme joy when I jotted them down.

Writing is my oasis, I can casually inscribe the most intimate of my emotions on paper and I have caught myself ,one too many times,typing on a keyboard that is only connected to air. There I sit, my fingers at work and as each of their tips kisses a key I overwhelmed by a feeling, I am home. This was made for me and I for it. The irritation at an uncooperative computer or an ink-less pen, the frustration when a thought keeps me up at night but I can’t seem to get it right on paper, the anger at the folly of mind when it’s as blank as Mother Theresa’s criminal record, the excitement when I have managed to write something I love so much that I want to sit the whole world down and read it to them. All these emotions I have felt and feel, I own them, I live off of them and I live for them.

Who knows if I’ll grow up to be one of the greats, I just love it period.I love to write so much it scares me sometimes, I wonder if my talent slips away will I too? The bouts of writer’s block damn near kill me and I wonder what if the words are truly gone this time? Who will I be if I am not a writer?

So I was curious about how other people in this blogging community feel when they write. How do you feel when you write?

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My Skin

African Woman

My skin

It coats my heart with mastery

each inch like Picaso mastered me,

Art on flesh

Sweet ebony!

It has a name or two or three,

I call it mine


Today I felt like dedicating my blog post to my beautiful skin. This weekend I have had a lot of talks with people about culture and heritage and race. All very intriguing conversations that would make one look at themselves in the mirror and realize that they were made specially, unique, and with delicate care. So I thought I might just make it known that I love my skin. I was reminded of a quote by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe that I came across once and it was the simplest truth I had ever heard :

If God had wanted me otherwise, He would have made me otherwise.

So today I urge you to step back from all your day’s troubles, breathe and look at the masterpiece starring back at you in the mirror. We are we and that’s who we should aim to be. Food for thought.

Yours always,


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*Know Your Blood Type*

I remember when I was younger I always grew so envious whenever one of my siblings was sick and the attention transferred. I know you must be thinking “You little monster” and you are probably right but I was a kid who always yarned a colossal amount of attention and to me being loved meant being noticed. I used to envy kids with a medical condition, not a disability more of a unique medical thing about them because I thought being special would earn me all the attention I could ever need. If I had one my mother would tend to my meals and say “Upile doesn’t eat that” and protect me from my brother by saying “Don’t play rough, we don’t want to hurt our little Princess”. Now I truly understand the “Be careful what you wish for” saying because in turn I did get what I wished for. You can stay on your seats and please refrain form crying it isn’t necessarily a biggie, it could be worse. You see that difference I’d always wished for was inside of me, my blood type.

Last week over a social dinner with my cousins somehow the topic of blood type came on the table. I am ever so curious about medical conditions and one of my cousins happens to be a doctor. The question was casually asked “What’s your blood type Upile?” and my answer came in “O negative“. Hmmm I myself did not understand the complexity of my blood type just that I could give blood to a person with any type of blood. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury that was the mere surface. “That means you can only have one child” my cousin said not knowing that then and there she was breaking my heart and sledge-hammering the imaginary life I had gingerly created. A life filled with children and bliss, children whom I had already named , children that felt very real to me. “One child!” it was more a whisper than a scream. An enigmatic me hoped that she was just joking but ney doctors don’t joke about medicine not even socially. She went on to explain that my body may allow the first child but my blood may make up antibodies and tackle the next child like a virus. I listened hoping to hear the loophole, the magic door that would lead to my pre-designed imaginary house with my cherished imaginary children. Tada! There is one. But it can’t be trusted fully. I would have to take some pills during my third trimester with the first child, then within 72 hours after that child’s delivery then again when I am with child. This process would have to be continued.

There are more biological terms that I googled. (I wonder why the Cambridge dictionary hasn’t yet added ‘googled’ as a word or ‘facebooked). The bottom line is that my blood is a barrier and it may affect my dreams of having children. I felt absolutely betrayed by my body upon hearing this news. I advice you all to find out your blood types, O negative is a rare blood type only 7% of the world’s population have it. In my little trip of enlightenment I found out that there are special diets from each individual blood type. One more thing I found out is that O negative  can only get blood from O negative which is something worth knowing because this is a rare blood type. Upon hearing this piece of news my father said “Be careful”, his stern eyes warning in a way that made the attention-seeking younger version of myself ever-so-happy.

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