A few weeks ago, I made a frame-by-frame video for my Instagram account that featured me without makeup and going through my glam makeup routine. I got a pretty large amount of “likes” (for my IG, at least) and got several messages in my inbox with statements like, “How do you do that?” and “Tell me your secret!”Continue Reading…
I was 17 years old when I stepped on the University of Georgia campus as a freshman in 2003. Although I felt like I had come from a big city, the hustle and bustle of historic downtown Athens was overwhelming to me, a 5’8″ teen whose idea of fashion came from the vintage t-shirt aisles at Goodwill and Salvation Army.
One of my first classes at UGA was in a large auditorium at the Terry College of Business. Like me, the other students arrived early in anticipation of what our first day of college would hold. We waited outside of the auditorium for the doors to be unlocked, hunched down on each side of the wall with laptops on hand, pretending to be working on something important in order to avoid the social anxiety I knew we were all experiencing.
“I just love your makeup,” the five-foot-nine African American boy said to me, as he two-strapped his Jansport over both shoulders. I noticed his vivacious choice of clothing, but also his friendly, welcoming smile.