I come to this post not as a member of the Beyhive but as a young critical thinker questioning the validity of the charges levied against Beyonce by bell hooks in her latest essay "Moving Beyond Pain" . Here my fantasism for Knowles-Carter and deep seated respect for hooks are in violent collision because while hooks taught me about the political and historical implications of my hair and my complexion, Beyonce has taught me how to operate as a black woman in this creative, capitalist industry. Both of these women are feminists, both are important to me but in this instance bell hooks' unrelenting, militant stance of undermining Beyonce's feminism finds itself akin to Piers Morgan's delirious reading of Lemonade.
Read moreLemonade & The Failure of International Broadcasting
Since the announcement last weekend, I’ve been in formation along with the rest of the BeyHive in preparation for the Lemonade World Premiere on HBO. I wore my Ivy Park all day and got my soul ready to have my edges peeled clean off by the only Queen I acknowledge. Alas this was never meant to be because when HBO announces a World Premiere Event, what they really mean is an American Premiere. You know, cos the whole world lives in America. Instead of getting my life, I spent half an hour crying hysterically while trying and failing to find a link that worked then settled on watching the Beyonce’s art on Periscope. Watching Lemonade on Periscope was akin to watching it on a Nokia 5110. It was the most unpleasant Beyonce experience I’ve ever had and it’s not Beyonce’s fault (could it ever be?) I rest sole responsibility at the feet of HBO and International Broadcasting in general.
Read moreBeyonce & The Reclamation of Black Hair
I was getting ready to get food when Beyonce dropped her epic, Melina Matsoukas directed video Formation. It was two hours later when I heard my stomach groan in protest that I realised I was still sitting naked and hungry, face awash with tears. “Is it that serious?” Yes. Beyonce has long signified to me, and many others, what true glory looks like. In this, her latest in a never-ending parade of wig snatching masterpieces, Beyonce presents us with so many powerful images; the police car drowning in Katrina, the black boy wearing a hoodie dancing in front of a line of police officers, “stop shooting us” spray painted on the wall. I could spend hours analysing each of them. But because I know for a fact that Beyonce wants me to win in my own life too, she’ll be happy if I focus on just one; black women’s hair.
Read more