In part two of “Black Hair at Home,” we consider how the pandemic has forced black women to have an aesthetic and philosophical reckoning. Since lockdown, we’ve had to ask ourselves: What happens when we suddenly decide to let colleagues see our natural hair? How does learning — or relearning — how to nurture and…
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There’s no doubt that the pandemic has upended our lives. Since March, it’s disrupted the way we work, shop, socialize, and, of course, do our hair. For Black women, this change has forced an aesthetic and philosophical reckoning. We’ve had to ask ourselves: What happens when we suddenly decide to let colleagues see our natural…
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If my skin were a cup of coffee, it would be Bustelo with a dash of cream. Add a pinch of brown sugar, and there you have it. A perfectly in-between blend of light cocoa and cinnamon tones. This is the skin with which I was born, an olive-caramel hue that exists between worlds — and…
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It took me a long time to find representatives in beauty and art who reflected my own lived experiences as a queer Black woman. This journey has necessitated an intentional relearning of what beauty looks like, which I’ve written about it in more detail here, and a rediscovery of icons who could help me cultivate…
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We are thrilled to share that Eadem is a recipient of the Glossier Grant Initiative for Black-Owned Businesses. It’s such an honor to be recognized amongst other inspiring beauty brands who are championing real representation in an industry that has historically left women of color behind. As we put the finishing touches on our own…
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“Beauty is an investment, honey,” she’d utter. While I was far too young to comprehend what an “investment” meant, her words stuck with me. Even before I became a beauty editor, I retained her lessons on the importance of splurging on beauty products.
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I wish I had a cool story to tell you about how Persian women beautify themselves. Something with rose water or almond eyeliner. Maybe a Cleopatra reference that would sound exotic and make you go, “Oooh, chic.”
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In an act of needed self-preservation, I started changing the images surrounding me. On my small and earnest Tumblr account, I began reblogging and saving the selfies of Black women.
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It was when Yuri joined the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE), at age 39, in 1960, that she met her dear friend, Malcom X. In an interview with Democracy Now, she recounts seeing him for the first time, mobbed by all the other activists, and how she geared herself up to ask him if she…
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For most of my life, my hair has been my greatest source of grief. Not to mention, arguments with my mother. “Comb your hair properly, it’s such a mess,” she’d say. Or “Cut your hair short,” she’d suggest every time I left it loose or if we had to attend a formal event.
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