It's Sunday.

And I am visited by memories of old, my high school career, that gap year in ghana the first two years of Art Institute of Atlanta. I've come a long way you know? I remember those Thursday's 8 to 9, Ugly Betty, gagging over Vanessa Williams outfits and Amanda's insane shoes. Sitting in Biology the next day in front of Meiosha gushing about it's madness.

Nights after school when I supposed to be doing homework instead sitting in front of the computer watching the latest runways shows and dreaming of attaining that front row status. I remember that angst ridden novel I started, now on it's 30th chapter. It's something I pick every now and then, and one day I'll finish it.

I remember that magazine project for graphic design, the side of my head was shaved and I took a picture with me with duct tape taped to my mouth with the words "LUST" written on it, I've forgotten the cover, but the blurb said;

"We all have our vices: An Interview with Cheryl Acolatse"

The shot was black and white, and the header was red. I made a make up advert for the back cover, and I definitely got an A. All these memories bring a smile a to my face, even some I never thought I would draw joy from, and I'm just so grateful that through it all, I managed to stay true to myself, and I always did what I enjoyed. Do you think my mother was happy with my choice to dash Psychology and go to an Art school instead? She definitely wasn't, but she respected my decision because she loved me, because she wanted to give to me what her parents never gave her; a choice.

No one wrote my life plan for me, I have made the path myself. No one gave me a schedule to follow, no one gave me rules, I was blessed with the freedom to be ME.

And not a lot of second generation African children have that luxury.

And I am so damn grateful.

My mother always said I was a trendsetter, and the look of pride in her eyes when she looks at me every morning fills me to the brim with conviction and hope for tomorrow. With drive and sets my dreams on fire.

Because she let me dream.

She let me take over the living room every thursday, somedays even watched Ugly Betty with me, she actually knows my style, she can actually shop for me. It's a journey but she knows who John Galliano is, she knows what Louis Vuitton is, she's knows, she care's.

Because she believes in me.

I'm passionate about these things because I have been given the chance to be, she showed me the world and with that view I could knowledgeably pick and choose what was right and was was wrong.

When it comes to fashion, I am extremely passionate, and extremely learned. I love shoes, I love style, I love the vanity of it all. It's not just about "stuntin'" It's not just about "shopping".

IT'S ART.

That is what determines fashion head status. How fashion makes you feel. How creating something out of nothing gives you goosebumps, how a bad ass pair of shoes can bring joy to your life and you don't even have to leave your damn room wearing them, you can just stand in front of the mirror and stare all day long. What up Tega? :).

There is a lot of ignorance about the fashion industry amongst my fellow Africans, what Western culture portrays in our mass media is rarely what is real but you stick to it like it's written in the bible, Louis Vuitton and Gucci are not the only designers in the world, and you can cover yourself in them from head to toe but trash is trash honey.

That does not make you a fashion head, it makes you a waste of money.

Today an unknowledgeable fool tried to say the Ugly Betty is NOT for fashion heads, and anyone who cannot see the art that is the styling in that series really needs to shut the hell up and sit the hell down because you know variably nothing about fashion, you see your favorite rappers rocking something and you ride their dicks like there's no tomorrow.

Example? Ed Hardy is shit. Lil' Wayne wore one Ed Hardy shirt, and the entire world followed suit. Those Kanye glasses? Should have stayed inside that Stronger video, did they? Are they still making fashionheads cry all over the world? No, and YES. YES THEY ARE.

Fashion is more than just what a celebrity makes cool. Being a fashionhead is more than just following the trends.

Maybe I'm coming off too boujie, but I remember forcing myself to not cuss out my Fashion History teacher on her utter uselessness because she mispronounced John Galliano.

I try to be as nice as possible with these things, when people mispronounce shit around me, I say nothing because I make allowances for fashion ignorance, not everyone can enjoy Fashion TV for 24 hours, not everyone memorizes creative directors and go through a fashion's house's entire runway catalogue. I understand that. I do.

I wish you would too.

Think before you speak, especially when it comes to fashion. Because one can look a hot ass mess, but still know her photographers from her creative directors.

Being a fashion head isn't about your personal style, it is about your personal KNOWLEDGE.

That is all.

Happy Sunday my loves.