It’s me and my sis, Ney. See her ‘fro? She just Big Chopped a couple weeks ago. Her puff game is pretty legit for a newbie!
My romper was from a clothes swap. Ney’s shorts were thrifted.
SUGAR LIPS APPAREL
Size Small
I was so excited when my flowy white dress cam in fro Sugar Lips Apparel!! It was adorable and perfect fit. I had no place to go in it, but just looking at it made me want to go out and take it for a spin.
Then I got word from Vicki from Houston on the Cheap (great blog for Houston freebies/inexpensive fun) that I’d won 2 tickets to the Houston Web Awards. I brought my bestie Jessica with me. Although I was thankful for the opportunity, I didn’t love the award show. I didn’t see even one fashion blogger represented. The crowd was also a little older and most of them already knew each other, so mingling was a little awkward. All that aside, I loved the way this dress turned heads. I got a lot of compliments on my earrings, which I made myself a couple years ago out of a couple bangles (bracelets), some lace, and some earring hooks.
At the Houston Web Awards:
If you’re interested in hearing more about Sugar Lips Apparel, click the Sugar Lips button on the right side link bar (the picture w/ the skirt).
This is my first thrift adventure since the pre-Clothes Swap fast. Lol, I haven’t thrifted for a month. Let me tell you, it was rough. But I went to my thrifting spot and I got:
My favorite things that I bought were the blazer and the dress. I’m definitely taking them to New York with me!
I decided to give in a join the 5 minute makeup challenge. The results were quite comical. But hey, I tried! And I did it in less than 5 mins (the Drake song is technically 4:45 mins long). I also apologize for my tragic eyeliner— such a mess! heheh
My get ready anthem really is “Fancy” by Drake. I’m sorry that this wasn’t the clean version. I had no clue, obviously heheh.
Whoa, it’s been 3 years already! That’s cray. My BC was on June 20th, 2009.
When I went natural, people mourned for the loss of my silky tresses, telling my hair would never be the same and that it wouldn’t grow back. Well, they were right about one thing. Ever since I did my big chop, my hair has been constantly evolving.
If feel like hair is supposed to grow and mature with you. My hair represents different stages in my life.
I had shiny shoulder-length hair that was often up in a ponytail. There’s only one thing I miss about my permed hair– my bangs! They look so much better than the time I tried to cut them by myself in the 4th grade. Funny enough, I never notices how much forehead that I had back in the day.

My TWA stage was all about “What makes me beautiful?” I experimented with makeup for the first time and started dressing differently. I threw away all my t-shirts and started wearing red lipstick with everything!
My puff/afro stage was my “DIY” stage. I started experimenting with my hair. You can find my styles here. I found blogger and Youtube channels to teach me things. My favorite phrase was “I did/made it myself.” I was discovering myself, who I was, and what I liked. During this time, I started riding a bike on campus, got really into “Going green” and started making Youtube videos/blogging seriously.

Yarn braids are my favorite protective style. A girl at school did them for me for the first time in the Fall of 2009 and I was hooked. Ever since, I’ve been fending off rumors that I am loc’d.
I’m now at the biggish hair stage. I can honestly say I’d done everything I wished to do with my fro.
Twist-out. Check
Braid-out. Check
Blow-out. Check
Straw set. Check
Coils. Check
Going natural is one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. No turning back!
I have been sampling all types of cuisine this summer. Strangely enough, as a Houstonian I have had limited exposure to Mexican food. In the month of June, my Mexican food consumption was at an all time high.
Honestly, I can’t remember the names of the restaurants or even the names of the meals. All I remember is that each of them was delicious.
#1.
#2.
#3.
Yes to Mexican food, all the way!
Perhaps I enjoyed myself a little too much this month. My waist beads were fitting a little more snuggly heheh. It’s all good though. I do it for the love of good food.
There. I said it. Now we can all move on with our lives.

Hi, my name is Timi. I’m a 23 year old teacher and I live with my parents.
…You still there? What, no laughter? No judgment? Oh, that’s right. I’m in the same position as 85% of the young adult world. I’m not ashamed of it anymore, but I once was.
When I first moved back to my hometown for work, I was dragging my feet the entire way. I love my family, and I’d missed them while I was gone but I was not ready to cohabitate with them again. Honestly, I had lived by myself for the past year and I loved the solitude and having my own space to do whatever I pleased. So to me, moving back home initially seemed like a leash being placed around my neck. Dramatic, I know.
Ugh. Houston…not even Houston but the SUBURBS, where boredom is manufactured. I’m not exactly sure why I disliked Houston so much. All I knew is that it wasn’t Austin. When I’d lived in Houston, the main places I drove to were school, the grocery store, and church. All were within 30 minutes of my house. I had never truly explored Houston. I saw it as a bland place. My neighborhood was especially high on the Womp list. I wasn’t feeling it period.
To make matters worse, for a while I was in the same room that I’d been in as a kid. It was as though I was falling back into the role of the submissive child although I had worked 4 years trying to prove that I was grown woman. With my restlessness and constant need to prove myself, I knew living at home would be a challenge for me. We’d had some great memories in that house, when I was younger. In a way, with coming back home there was the danger that I, or someone in the family, would do something to overshadow those good memories we’d had together.
Plus (this is the part few of us Couch dwellers have the guts to tell our parents) for the past four years, I’d been doing whatever I wanted. The mere thought of a curfew among some other restrictions that were enforced when I was a teenager made me feel like I was on lock-down. I was coming home with two Bachelors degrees to show for my four years at the University of Austin, but I had an 11pm curfew. My mother would say “what business do children of God has on the streets after 12 anyway?” I’m not sure how my maturation process had paused and looped back to high school, but I frustrated and disappointed with my situation. My adulthood plan wasn’t going like I’d expected. I wasn’t in a corner office with my name on the placard, with a nice apartment in a fast city, with a fine God-fearing man by my side. No, none of that. I was at home, bored and stressed out because of work. I thought I’d done it wrong–moved back prematurely. I wanted to come back as home something big, but here I was in the same house, at the same church, falling into the same homebody routine I had back in high school.
But thank God for giving me parents who know me well. My family recognized that college had changed me into an individual with her own preferences and need for adventure. They understood my need to go out and socialize with friends but at the same time they still made me adhere to family rules. It was a tricky balance. Honestly, I wasn’t paying rent so I didn’t have much room to argue with the “as long as you’re under my room” bit. Yes, there were times when I’d want to yell in my ratchet girl voice “I ain’t got time for this! I’m too grown!” but there were also times when my family had my back when I was facing trials. They were my support system, my life advice expert (thanks Ges!) my laughs on the long drive back home (thanks Ney!), my nuggets of wisdom (thanks Dad!), my listening ear (thanks Dee!), my smoothie in the morning (thanks Mom!)
For the longest time, I’d been trying to elevate myself to grown woman status. Living at home was not in my plans. Initially, I was embarrassed when I had to excuse myself from a party that had just begun because I had to hurry home before 12am. Then I quickly realized that among my groups of friends, I wasn’t totally alone. Some had also chosen to stay at home so they could save money, be comfortable, and still enjoy the finer things in life (techie gadget, lavish vacations, and designer labels). Others, like me were just trying to pay back student loans. I’m very fortunate that my parents didn’t make me pay them rent, as I’ve heard some parents do. My family seems to genuinely want me around, which makes everything exponentially more bearable, if not enjoyable.
There was a lot of give and take this year, but after isn’t that what family is about? Despite the ups and downs, I can say that I learned invaluable lessons from living at home for a year. More so than during my four years in college, in this one year, I have learned more about responsibilities, loving people, and being mature than I could have imagined.
This past weekend, I had the opportunity to go view the Project Row Houses, a collection of historical houses that have been converted into “art exhibits,” so to speak. I had no clue that this historical significant space had been under my nose in Houston this whole time. To read more, check out their website here.
From the outside, all you see are cute little houses lined up on a street. The Project allows several artists to showcase their art in a house. Each house has a different theme and flavor.
House #1
House #2
House #3
House #4
I did not get to view all the houses but I promised that I would share this beautiful art and life showcase. You should visit, if you can. It’s free of charge and is located on 2521 Holman Street. Houston, TX

YE, my brother got this thrifted blazer for $12. It came with matching pants (not pictured)