Nourrir August 2016 Issue 10 - Embrace the Heat

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10 AUGUST 2016



MAY 2016



Freya Boulakbeche CONTENT EDITOR

Justin Hickman


Renee Minus White, Dameun Strange, Katie Wilson, Kitty Aal, Ferial Pearson and Laura Buccieri ON THE COVER

BadAss Bella on Her Bike in Handy Ma’am SUBSCRIPTIONS

NOURRIR’S MISSION STATEMENT Nourrir, the French word meaning “to nourish” is a multi-media lifestyle magazine designed to feed all five of the senses - sight, sound, touch, smell and taste. We will feature food, fashion, travel, current events and women who inspire us. We don’t want to tell women how they are supposed to be, we want to give them information that will support their path, today. With commitment to responsive and insightful storytelling, and a keen and fresh editorial eye, Nourrir dares women to not only be good enough, but exceptional. We believe in you.
















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EDITOR’S LETTER August hit me like a lightening bolt. Staring at my FaceBook feed, line after line, death after death, tears were my constant and necessary companion. Are we so similar that we hate our likeness? Are we so different that we do not recognize that our humanness? Only this year, I learned that my parents made a choice when I was young, a deliberate effort, to live somewhere diverse. The goal to ensure I felt like a part of the great beauty of the world; to treat everyone with kindness and regard. My neighborhood didn’t disappoint; families of all races, combinations and religions on one single, walkable block. And, I am grateful beyond words for this conscious effort. But, of all things, this choice underlies something we as a nation, human race, habitants of the universe would do well to confront - privilege. Sometimes privilege takes the form or economic differences caused by systemic lack of access (think public schools funded by property taxes rather than $ per student), sometimes in zoning and property laws that keep people out/in based on non-economic criteria, such as race or religion, sometimes privilege is being a part of the majority, perceived or real. One potential outcomes of the tragedies Black America faces daily (and have faced for centuries), that social media is exposing, is change. We can face the demons. White America can challenge privilege - not because of a drive for less, rather because we want everyone to have more. We can challenge the laws, attitudes, behaviors and systems that keep people down, make them live

in fear and keep us all in the dark. We haven’t done this work of dismantling, yet. I am a lover of freedom. I want everyone to feel free. I’m grateful that Nourrir is my place where I can express a vision of the world as I want it to be now; fully free. I’m grateful to you the readers, for giving Nourrir a voice and acceptance. And so, in the hottest month ever, where RNC, DNC, ISIL, BREXIT, and Jon Stewart’s one-show return to political comedy, leave us confused, angry, hopeful, and HOT, Nourrir August - Embrace the Heat, dedicates every page, every tear, every moment of progress to Black Lives Matter and to Black Joy. We welcome Dameun Strange as a new contributor, Renee Minus White regales us with more fashion, Kitty writes to us from Anakara following the failed “coup” and Laura returns with a poem, one of her first loves. Each contributor is family to me. Sharing in this vision, participating with words often personal, moving and utterly raw. And dear reader, I am humbled. Every month I share this vision of an existence where we each can pursue our loves, dreams, ambitions, desires, goals, or whatever without fear is part of my joy. To know so many who work tirelessly, in so many different ways, to live that way today, inspires me. Thank you. Please share with us your dreams, aspirations, goals and challenges. Tell us your stories of Black Joy and Black Lives Matter. Everyday, I remain joyful knowing that we can live this life I envision. The future is now. Let’s do it together.

Freya C h i e f E d i t o r, Fo u n d e r



CONTRIBUTORS RENEE MINUS WHITE Renee is the fashion and beauty editor for the N.Y. Amsterdam News, and founder of a Time to Style, Inc. - a production and communications company that produces fashion editorials, fashion shows and presentations. Also, as a founder of RMW Enterprises, has penned fashion articles for Montgomery Ward’s, Essence Magazine, and Leavit Advertising Agency. She is the proud product of Fashion Institute of Technology in New York City.

DAMEUN STRANGE Dameun Strange is an award-winning Minnesota composer/sound designer who grew up in Washington, DC where he started on his journey with music and sound at a very young age. He was fortunate to have grown up exposed to many different styles of music influenced by the vibrant culture represented in the Mid Atlantic Area. He has since been fascinated with the idea of exploring the outer limits of music and fusing them into a style that is uniquely his.

LAURA BUCCIERI Laura lives in New York City where she is currently getting her MFA in Poetry at The New School. Traveling is one of her biggest loves. Her mom started taking her all over the world when she was young, and that same wanderlust is now engrained in her. She is especially fascinated by the literary work in the places that she visits. When abroad, she alway try to find a bookstore that will have English translations of local poetry. Similarly, she hopes that her work “translates” across multiple minds and places. Gertrude Stein phrased it best when she stated, “I am writing for myself and strangers.”

KITTY AAL Kitty runs the photography and creative writing collective Leggenda and co-edits the Ankara Esoterica project. Director of Programming for the Cinema Revolution Society’s online cinematheque. She has also collaborated with the Carbon Arc Cinema, Ankara Cinema Association, and Montreal’s ICPCE on experimental film screenings in Nova Scotia, Ankara and Istanbul. Based in Ankara, Turkey since 2012, she is currently flirting with the muse in Lisbon.



CONTRIBUTORS K ATIE WIL SO N Katie commands technology, flowers and children with bravado. A woman of multiple talents, she sometimes takes time from her 3 rug rats to write. Katie has run several business that she self-funded: including a yoga line and a flower shop.

FERIAL PEARSON Ferial was born and raised in Nairobi, Kenya. She is the first in her family to go to college, where she earned a Bachelor’s degree in 2001 in Communication Arts Literature Teaching. Through teaching and a dedication to continued learning, she has dedicated herself to helping children.This passion led her to create Secret Agents of Kindess, a kindess movement elusive teens can



NOURRIR AMERICA Penumbra/Corona: Black Joy in the age of Black Lives Matter BY DAMEUN STRANGE

“Sad is one of those words that has given up its life for our country, it's been a martyr for the American dream, it's been neutralized, co-opted by our culture to suggest a tinge of discomfort that lasts the time it takes for this and then for that to happen, the time it takes to change a channel. But sadness is real because once it meant something real. It meant dignified, grave; it meant trustworthy; it meant exceptionally bad, deplorable, shameful; it meant massive, weighty, forming a compact body; it meant falling heavily; and it meant of a color: dark. It meant dark in color, to darken. It meant me. I felt sad.” ― Claudia Rankine, Don’t Let Me Be Lonely: An American Lyric

Joy and Pain The song, it harkens back to the complex polyrhythms twisting in tension like the very DNA that gives us melanin to protects us from the rays of the sun, gives us beautiful kinky hair, and souls that are as strong and as beautiful as mahogany. The song, builds from the rhythm; the sizzle of the cymbals over the thumping foot to ground of the kick, mixed with the ring and pop of congas and bongos, the bassline mimics the rhythm of those hand drums, as the steely guitar converses with the shimmer shine of electric piano in call and response. Layers upon layers weave a magical musical tapestry until moved, a man cries out OHHHHHHHHH OOOO OHH OHH OHH! That man is Frankie Beverly featured singer in the band MAZE. The song is Joy and Pain. You might only know this song from the sample used in Rob Base and EZ Rock’s song by the same name. The sample doesn’t capture the beautiful intricacies of the song, the beautiful tension of major and minor, shadow and light, joy and pain. I use this introduction as a way to introduce the idea that in this time of community crisis, a crisis that is not a new one by any means, we need to examine our narratives and in particular how to balance Black Pain with Black Joy. The brutal violence perpetrated

by systems created by the flawed ideology of White Supremacy is not new but in the age of 24 hour news and social media, a bright light is now being shown on America’s rotten core. Black folks have been crying Black Lives Matter since before our nation was founded while the majority of White Americans listen only when the pain, tragedy is right there in front of them and even then the sting last only a few days when it is gone, they can return to their lives of privilege. They know the Rob Base version of Joy and Pain but don’t know complete complexity of the Maze featuring Frankie Beverly song. For Black folks in the America the complexity joy and pain is etched deep in our DNA, the stuff that is not only passed down through our oral traditions, though our poetry, through our music, through our dance; it lives in our genes and is passed down through the generations coexisting in intricate double helix. Frankie Beverly sings: “Over and over you can be sure There will be sorrow but you will endure Where there’s a flower there’s the sun and the rain Oh and it’s wonderful they’re both one in the same” You cannot tell the story of the shadow without also lifting up the light.





Tragic Death and Historical Trauma I was just 25 when my mom went to be with the ancestors, she died from complications due to the HIV. Her story is a tragic one, a story where there exists so much joy and so much pain. My mom had a beautiful voice; it was a gift she shared with others. First, as singer in our home church of Metropolitan AME in Washington, DC and then as a featured singer and soloist with a few bands in region--joy. She was also a victim of her own demons, addiction and abusive men corroded a beautiful joyous soul until eventually it was as hollow as the eyes of a ghost--pain. When she passed away, her mother, my grandmother had already lost her son who had died under mysterious circumstances while he was living in Sudan; it had only been 3 years. During my mom’s funeral, I sat next to my grandmother. My arm around her, I could feel her breaking apart with each sob, and despite my best efforts to prop her up, I felt that she might crumble right there in the pew. Mothers are not supposed to outlive their children but there she was. She had two and now two were gone. I could not imagine the deep sadness, the abysmal pain she must have felt and must still feel. It is unfortunate to be a sadness that many Black mothers feel in America. Mothers living a life with the wounds of lost children, many of them needless, senseless deaths. Mothers who are our grandmothers, our sisters, our aunts, our friends, our neighbors, our coworkers; walking around with scars. Again, Black children ripped from the bosoms of Black mothers is not a new story, children stolen and sold to families far away; it is an unfortunately common narrative. When Philando Castile was tragically murdered not to far from where I live, I told the story of my great great grandmother Mildred’s warning to my 5 year old self, that white men “take little black boys from us.” I mentioned how the warning had frightened me but how at the time I didn’t realize that warning was born out the experiences she must have had growing up in Jim Crow South Carolina and living in Alabama and Florida. She had known, witness young black men being ripped from their loved ones and turned into ghost and into scars on the souls of Black mothers and passed on to loved ones in the form of stories. Invisible scars hold historical trauma that is then passed on through our genes. We carry this pain within us; it is a part of us like our melanin, like our kinky hair. “Yes, and the body has memory. The physical carriage hauls more than its weight. The body is the threshold across which each objectionable call passes into consciousness—all the unintimidated, unblinking, and unflappable resilience does not erase the moments lived through....” Claudia Rankine writes in Citizen: An American Lyric. We must make it ok to acknowledge this pain, this trauma, and make space to tell the stories. These narratives turn pain into healing, and may turn healing into joy.



Black Joy as Ritual “There is a balm in Gilead To make the wounded whole There is a balm in Gilead To heal the sin-sick soul.” I am sometimes in awe of my grandmother, Ty’s resilience. I marvel at Samaria Rice, Sybrina Fulton, Diamond Reynolds and others. In the same way, I look at the strength of the leaders of #BlackLivesMatter across the country, these women are tirelessly working front lines everyday. And sometimes, I am concerned with how we use the trauma of Black mothers, Black women to feed us without wondering how they will be fed. How are they healed. Who is coating their wounds with a balms from Gilead? We cannot talk about strength, resilience in this time of crisis without talking about Black Joy. Black Joy is that balm. Black Joy is that tonic, is that cape, is that shield. Black Joy is that lamplight. Black Joy is that beautiful halo of corona that exists at the same time as the penumbra in an eclipse. I was reminded by one of the leaders of #BlackLivesMatter Minneapolis, Lena Gardner that it is important to fight, to keep the pressure on systems to change, but it is equally as important that we find Black Joy, that we take time for Black Joy, that we lift up Black Joy. Black Joy is hand dancing, baseball, grands and great grands for my grandmother. Black Joy for me is Black music, Black nerdom, Black dandyism. Black Joy like Black Pain has been around forever. In some cases it has been stolen from Black people and commodified like freedom and children. But we have always found a way to cultivate it in times of triumph and in times of struggle. Silence the drum and we give you Black Joy in Black voices and Black bodies; our art, our food, our fashion manifest Black Joy. Black intellectualism, innovation, entrepreneurship and financial autonomy; all Black Joy. Black Joy fuels the struggle. I am not sure if there is anyone who isn’t moved into action by Jayanthi Kyle’s movement anthem “Hand in Hand” or finds comfort in the hip-hop jazz prayer of Kendrick Lamar’s “Alright”. We exert so much in the struggle against White Supremacy, that we would find ourselves starving and dying of thirst, if not for Black Joy. Shall we kill ourselves, even as our oppressors do? No, we must eat from the buffet of Black Joy, drink from the fountain of Black Joy, coat our skin with the balm of Black Joy as we continue to dismantle a system that tries to destroy our Black Joy.



Telling the story As much as all of us, Black folks and accomplices must tell the story of the pain, the injustice, the loss of life. We must make real the aggressions that Black folks deal with everyday, make real the fear and frustration, the pain. We need also to tell the story of Black Joy. We must make time for Black Joy. Take up space with Black Joy. I know that this happens even at the marches, even at the occupations, even at the meetings. Let’s magnify that message of Black Joy even as we participate in the struggle. Ta-Nihisi Coates wrote in his book Between the World and Me, “ must wake up every morning knowing that no promise is unbreakable, least of all the promise of waking up at all. This is not despair. These are the preferences of the universe itself: verbs over nouns, actions over states, struggle over hope.” Many think Black Joy is merely about hope, but I suggest you think of Black Joy as part of struggle. It is an obsidian blade; shiny, black and sharp, an indispensable tool. And joy and pain, corona and penumbra exist together as we work to eclipse White Supremacy.



TWO BUDGETS: FRUGAL For the gal who has champagne tastes on a shoestring budget - looks for under $100 AU G US T ’ S THEME: EMB R ACE THE HE AT

Lime Green Basic Straw Fedora Hat, $20

Boohoo Macey Arrow and Shell Earring Pack, $5

M&Co Seamfree Bandeau Bra, $8

Ona-Femtrend Pockets Overalls, $46

American Eagle Braid Leather Flip Flop, $20



TWO BUDGETS: SPENDY For the woman who has capital to invest in a chic wardrobe - looks for under $1000 AU G US T ’ S THEME: EMB R ACE THE HE AT

Berricle Angel Sterling Silver Ear Crawlers Angel Wings, $59

Jeffry Campbell Olympus Suede Gladiator Sandal, $250

Tanya Taylor Brianna Dress, $451



LUSTS & MUSTS Here are five things we’re obsessed with this month - don’t say we didn’t warn you.


U&I by Emily King “Once there was me, now there’s U & I.” The beat will pull you in; her melodic voice, playful tone and delightful lyrics, you will fall in love. “You reached for my hand, makin’ me feel so alive.”


Tanya Taylor Tee by Tanya Taylor “I was raised with the belief that I could be anything I wanted to be. Hillary Clinton’s glass ceiling shattering campaign is testament to the progress America has made for women’s global equality. My design for Hillary’s historic campaign is a classic varsity tee, inspired by team unity and iconic Americana. Her dedication to nurturing entrepreneurial spirit, improving access to higher education and protecting the American people are some of the reasons I’m With Her.”



International Music Festival of Carthage

The reviews don’t tell the story. They are another example of why a movement is required. This App fills a technology gap and allows all people who are on the right side of history to stay connected to events and eachother. BLM does not condone violence, and neither does Nourrir. We both always support equality and hope to shine light where we can all do better.

Carthage, Tunisia

Black Lives Matter


Set in one of the most beautiful places in Africa, historic Roman City Carthage in Tunisia is a music festival rich in diversity. This year, Youssou n’Dour, Yanni, George Benson, Stromae are just a few of the amazing acts to see all month.



Journal entry for Friday July 15, 2016 Göksu Lokantası on Nenehatun Caddesi This was the first time we had hung out with our downstairs neighbors. They both work in the psychology department and spent 5 years in upstate New York for their doctorates. Gül, although from Ankara - a city known for it’s conventional dress - had a great sense of style and I spent the first 15 minutes of the evening admiring her ballsy checkered pants, white shirt, and tennis shoes. She seemed no-nonsense and casually elegant and I at once felt at ease with her feeling no pressure to carry on polite girly conversation. Emre was as slight as Gül and had a charming gap-tooth and trim beard. An unassuming handsome young couple. They were taking us to their favorite restaurant, Göksu Lokantası, housed in a Republican-era building, grand with 4 floors of old wood, red carpet and sturdy tables wrapped around a wide staircase leading to the rooftop terrace where most of the patrons were dining on that hot July evening. Their specialty was food from the Black Sea region. We all ended up getting the same thing: pickled sautéed green beans, tomato walnut salad, hummus, and beef stroganoff. Gül and Emre put back a small bottle of raki, which I would have joined in on had my delicate stomach not prevented me from doing so. Conversation was delightfully easy and peppered with moments of a shared sense of humor, not so easy to find these days. Discussing how hard it was to get fired from a Turkish state institution, we joked that you’d have to show up to teach without any pants on before your job would be threatened. Emre’s eyes lit up as he passed on a story he had heard about a drunk Economics professor who had been running around his university apartment building with no pants on and how he had gotten kicked out of his apartment, but not his job. A little after 10pm as we were enjoying our post-dinner tea while admiring the great view of Ankara and it’s nearby mountains we heard a long searing sound coming from above. Eventually a fighter jet appeared tearing across the sky overhead closely followed by second one. We looked at each other knowingly - smirking with the assumption that it was another one of those curious Ankara moments. We continued our conversation until the planes appeared once again. They were very loud and flying very low. Too low. Intuition would say something was off, but our logical minds went through all the various explanations for what was going on above our heads: there was some sort of (poorly timed) aviation show...perhaps a training mission from the nearby base (in the middle of heavy commercial traffic to/from the nearby airport??)...maybe a renegade pilot? This last theory stuck with me the longest as the planes continued to circle the city, the first plane going so low that all the restaurant guests started wincing as we expected a building to explode upon impact. People were standing up. Phones were out now. Everyone was calling around to see if there was any news or explanation. Phones were also being used to film the alarming curiosity. We continued joking about the planes even as the deep sickening feeling began to spread. People looked at each other, from table to table, from waiter to customer trying to gauge how to feel about what was going on. After 20 minutes of this taunting air activity I started to think that maybe we should go home. Something was not right.



Who, we joked, would have access to jets like this in the region? Not ISIS. Not the PKK (a militant Kurdish group designated a terrorist organization by the Turkish government). Russia? Surely they wouldn’t dare, but the plane is going so so low. Like it’s trying to hit something on purpose or at least trying to intimidate. I had a taste of what it might feel like to be at the receiving end of fancy defense equipment. Then word got through that the main road through the city, Eskisehir Yolu, was closed. This was not good. But no explanation followed. As some guest decided to leave, we decided to try to catch the 11pm university service bus home. We were a good distance away from the bus stop and we didn’t have much time to make it there, but we booked it anyways. Before making it to our destination, we passed a busy intersection near Tunali Hilmi where televisions were visible through the open windows of bars and restaurants. We saw an image of one of the bridges in Istanbul being blocked off by soldiers and trucks. We knew it! Something was up. Finally our intuition started to get the credit it deserved. Another terrorist threat of some sort like the kind that have been plaguing Turkey since last year. Then a strange headline passed on the banner below the image. Something from the President, Erdogan, saying that this action would not succeed. What action?! We looked at each other. Then more. “This attempt to take over the democratically elected government would fail,” he continued. A coup?? What the...? Then slowly a picture of what was underway formed. A section of the Turkish military had taken over a state television station declaring that they had taken power “to reinstall the constitutional order, democracy, human rights and freedoms, to ensure that the rule of law once again reigns in the country, for law and order to be reinstated.” Time to go. We quickly found a taxi and made our way through the confused streets to our apartment on the outskirts of the city. At home, we jumped on our computers to get more info and assure friends and family that we were safe. Jets continued to fly rattling the windows. At one point we were awakened by the sound of a bomb, which we later learned had gone off near Parliament downtown. Mosques were using their speaker systems to call people out to stop the attempted takeover of their country. Thus the night unfolded with restless sleep and a bizarre middle of the night

text message from President Recep Tayyip Erdogan urging us to take to the streets. By morning, the coup had apparently been foiled, being one of the most poorly organized coups in recent history. People had been killed and now many more were being rounded up by the President to face the harshest punishments. Many questions remain. Who was behind the coup? Who was really behind the coup? How could they have been so wrong in assuming that other groups would join them (none of the opposition parties did)? According to the newspapers and people we have run into recently many people seem genuinely relieved at the coup’s failure despite their disagreements with Erdogan’s conservative government. They express pride and gratitude at the crowds who took to the streets to help defeat the coup. This is something I may never emotionally understand, never having lived through the severity or destabilization of a coup in my country. Turks, who have lived through several since their country’s modern inception, are in no mood for another one. I could only wonder at the young soldiers, kids some of them, that I saw pictured as they were being rounded up for their complicity in the attempted takeover. Were they maniacal, power-hungry and arrogant? Deluded idealists? Naive? Just following orders, possibly without the complete knowledge of what they were doing? Maybe it is I who is being naive. I just can’t shake the idea that some of them, especially those just trying to finish their mandated military service, were used in a plot that we may never fully understand as claims and conspiracy theories abound. The following day felt like a national hangover of sorts. People looked dazed. Three days later and crowds are still roaming around in various neighborhoods across the country answering the President’s renewed calls to occupy the squares. At the time of writing, over 6000 people who are know to hold views opposed to the government have been arrested. The university bus service has cancelled rides into the heart of the city. Embassies are encouraging their citizens to be vigilant. The purge has begun and it is being done with great relish. I am certain that this is only the beginning of what the aftermath of this event will comprise of. It’s going to get uglier. Have no doubt.



NOURRIR SPOTLIGHT Handyma’am: Building Garments for Working Women BY K ATIE WIL SON AND FRE YA BOULAKBECHE


Handyma’am - The hard-working woman’s coverall "It's a man's world!”…or at least it was for a blip in cosmic time. For centuries women have used their strong beautiful, life-giving bodies to bear the weight of the world. There is no period of time where we haven’t simultaneously participated in the workforce, unless by force. The illusion of the concept of “women’s work” and “men’s work” which originated in the modern era farming era – is now finally, dissipating. Our 21st Century civilization turned us upside down! “…societies with long histories of agriculture have less equality in gender roles as a consequence of more patriarchal values and beliefs regarding the proper role of women in society” - in my opinion, we haven’t just upside-down, as a species, taken a step back. And in this age of social media, instant communication, egality, equality, 50% of humans have battled (literally and figuratively) to regain their natural place in all expressions of the human experience. Us women. Hey, this isn’t man bashing, this isn’t women rule, this is simply that the miracle of Homo Sapiens has been operating at half speed. Imagine. What we could accomplish if we were all equal? And yet, no matter what females choose: politics, child-rearing, teaching, tech, poetry, we face biases. Some biases have enormous consequences on society, such as wage differences that negatively impact families and their ability to nurture their children. Some have questionable impact, such as hangers at the dry cleaner made only for men’s shirts that stretch the shoulders of most of our blazers, but are nonetheless daily reminders of our second class citizenship. It’s a great way to get me to buy more clothes- brilliant marketing or gender obliviousness? Gender Obliviousness permeates our lives in ways that may seem small, but are insidious. Consider our fellow citizens, the ones enabling our lifestyles. Military servicewomen, public service workers, healthcare workers, factory line workers and domestic workers, have had no choice but to outfit themselves in work wear designed TO FIT MEN. Even in 2016, many companies will offer discounts to “workmen”, we don’t even have a gender neutral word commonly used to describe these professions. Maybe clothes make the man, but what makes the woman? 1 in 3 US women will be sexually harassed at work.. Our clothes don’t fit, there are no words to describe us, are we being sent the message that this world was not made to fit us? Because we’re not fitting comfortably in THIS world. Do our garments reinforce that somehow we are in costume? One fit for someone else? One who deserves to be there? Just saying. Handy Ma'am (Bella Brands) is changing the game. Bella Weinstein, founder and self-described “Ambitious (not always in a positive way), precise, capable, idealistic, excitable", thought she could do better. When we asked what inspired her, she said, “I think it was sort of gradual but I finally decided after the constant and unsuccessful search for tough clothing for women that instead of waiting for someone else to solve the problem I would try to. Hypothetical thoughts turned into a week of sleepless nights. I think a lot of entrepreneurs can relate to this, eventually you start to obsess over an idea and think about it so much that you feel like you have no choice but to pursue it.” Shaeffer Haitsma, Technical Designer and Production Manager, knows all the intricacies of the manufacturing supply chain. Critical to transforming vision to garment, this expertise adds the necessary element missing from other brands simply making jumpsuits. Fit, function and manufacturing create nightmares for all brands. We probed Bella on how she balances, “Fit and Manufacturing have been the biggest challenges.









Creating a tailored one-piece garment on any one woman is one challenge. A long sleeve coverall must take into account every measurement on the female body; chest, butt, waist, torso and make sure they all work together. Often women wear different size jackets than pants, so sewing the two together definitely has its challenges. Then the goal is not only to make it look flattering but make sure she can move in it, like really move. We tried to create a fit that would include a wide range of body types. It took us a year until we were finally happy with the fit of the coverall and we are still tweaking it. After selling out of our first run we listened to some feedback from customers and improved it for the next run. Finding a factory that is capable of manufacturing our garment up to our standards of quality was definitely a challenge. We felt it important to keep our manufacturing in the USA for multiple reasons; we want to support our local economy, develop a personal relationship with the factory, and most importantly paying the people making our garments a fair wage. Our intention was never to create “high end” workwear, it was to create well made, well fitting workwear without sacrificing morals or local economy.”



Most entrepreneurs advise to closely monitor your entourage and to surround yourself with those who support you and bring out your best. Bella has her “entourage”. In addition to Shaeffer, Annelise Jeske, Videographer/ Photographer; Kathryn Adkins, Web Designer/ Graphic Designer; Kristen Haff, Graphic Designer round out a team acting in unison create a new world order, one coverall at a time. Rosie the Riveter would lend her endorsement. But, building something, challenges us to the core. Most business fail in the first 10 years. We wanted to know what the idea of failure meant to Bella. Her response left me inspired, “I am having a hard time answering this question, not because I never fail but I think it has everything to do with perception. When I think of failing I think of something not working out and that person stopping in his/her tracks and not moving further. There are plenty of times I have had an outcome or goal in mind and then it turned out completely different but I have never thought of it as failure…I start with a loose idea of how I am going to take on a problem but am always open to twists and sharp turns along the way. It sparks more creativity and rarely leaves you disappointed.” Bella envisions Handyma’am to be the place women come to find occupational clothing designed by women for women and manufactured in the US. Her client? “Any women who needs a piece of clothing that will work as hard as they do and appreciates what goes into creating that.” The women’s industrial work wear business is still lagging behind the $34.9 billion women’s office work wear business. Handy Ma’am is at the forefront of this burgeoning industry and looks to be poised to be an advocate for women’s fashion and comfort for years to come. We should all feel like we truly belong in our skin and our professions of choice.

Descriptives she uses to describe her clients include, “ Capable, Curious, Rad, someone who appreciates craftsmanship, Female”. We would also add, fabric fanatics! Her coveralls are light10 oz duck fabric which work on many body types. Bella explains, “Most of the duck canvas you see out there is made with single ply yarn but our is made with a 2 ply yarn, making it a stronger and softer then most 10oz canvas being used in workwear. There is also a water repellent finish on the canvas. We are currently experimenting with lighter fabrics for summer without sacrificing durability.” If design is the consciousness of the garment, the pattern being the skeleton, then the fabric is the flesh. Each measured in balance. What we wear has the power shape the way people feel about themselves and their careers. In the words of Eleanor Roosevelt “Great minds discuss ideas; average minds discuss events; small minds discuss people.” I’m happy to see a company introducing bigger ideas on how we can feel comfortable as women and workers in our own beautiful amazing bodies. By making sturdy work wear fit for our feminine form, we can do our jobs while feeling comfortable in our own skin and strong bodies. We can also create communion/community and friendship. Bella told us, “I want Handyma’am to not only be a outfitter for the tradeswomen/ artist/ hobbyist but an advocate as well. I would love to encourage community and connection among awesome women doing awesome shit.” Nourrir relishes the act of creation, destruction, play, joy, and right to be ambitious for all women. Our joy parallels the joys of all our global sisters. We here @Nourrir think we would have a blast hanging with Bella on her bike, sharing a meal. Alas, she said if she had a choice of 5 women to invite to dinner, she’d pick the Spice Girls! - debating fabric selection and planning world domination, one coverall at












Season to season, your wardrobe changes. However it is important to know what’s in and how to wear your clothes from day-to-day. For summer’16, tops are woven, off-the-shoulder blouses that look quite feminine over peasant and poet-styled blouson skirts. Pretty details like smocking, ruffle layers and cropped looks are best. Bomber jackets, sleeveless styles and ponchos are highlighted. Sweaters are long-sleeved, fitted and cropped with feminine details. Remember the slip dress? Instead of it flowing with a full skirt, it is a one piece slimming dress style with a split on the side. On the bottom, midi and maxi lengths are back in skirt lengths. It’s all about volume with baggy pants, culottes and skorts. Skirts are in midi lengths that fall gracefully just above the ankle. Waistline is high in pleated skirts or skirts with splits. Pants are roomier with front creases, angular pockets and paper bag waists. Bomber jackets with utility pockets and embroidery are everywhere, and they are worn with everything. Designer Dion Lee created an eclectic collection for his Fall’16 Mercedes Benz Fashion Week show. His clothes were youthful, and mostly in the color white. 2016 marked the brand’s sixth season at New York Fashion Week. His designs were styled with geometric details. “I wanted to probe the tension between functional details and ornamental details,” he explained after the show. He created his own jewelry for his collection. There were voluminous coats with pinched waistlines and impeccably tailored garments. Pretty dresses that were soft, feminine and frilly. Lengths were usually above the knee. Longer looks were elegant with a variation of collar treatments. An Australian brand, Dion Lee is a fashion innovator. New York has become a secondary base for the brand, showing regularly on his seasonal schedule.





NOURRIR SPECIAL Our lives matter : The Heat BY FERIAL PEA

Heat By Convection When motion Carries energy From a hot place To a cool place.

Heat is rage Rage is heat Blow off steam Tempers fiery Blood boiling Heads exploding Eyes smoldering Steam escaping Our ears. Heat is rage Rage is heat Heat is transferring Kinetic energy from one medium To another Heat is Convection Conduction Radiation Rage becomes heat Heat leads to change

Heat By Radiation When heat Is transferred From a source To a destination; It can happen Through a vacuum. It does not require an intervening medium. Heat By Conduction When two objects Are in contact One hotter Than the other And so then Their temperatures equalize



Rage is change Change is rage Blow off bigotry Speeches fiery Movements boiling Hearts exploding Cameras knowing Birds escaping Their cages. Rage is change Change is rage Rage is transferring Change from one medium To another Rage is Demonstration Protestation Opposition Rage becomes change Change leads to us

Change By Demonstration When motion Carries rage From injustice To justice Change By Protestation When pain Is transferred From us To you; It can happen Through the airwaves It does not require an intervening medium Change By Opposition When two people Are in contact One more privileged Than the other And so then Their futures equalize



NOURRIR TABLE Refreshing Turkish Yogurt Beverage “Aryan”



2 cups yogurt ½ cup cold water Salt to taste A handful of ice cubes

Put all ingredients in blender and mix until smooth. Serve cold with ice cubes. Add a sprig of mint



FINAL THOUGHTS from accross the street BY LAURA BUCCIERI

you can see me stripped down everyone has the knowledge that comes before the actual knowing the knowledge of what a body can look like when it’s naked and alone you want to know and i will let you see me naked anytime you like look in the rooms with the lights on at night i will be there on the sixth floor standing maybe pacing sipping water from a glass unarmed meaning unable to influence to know the scent of my skin that scales my body across the street that distance blocks most senses but if you want you can see me and notice the curves around my hip bones the gentle flow my chest vision is the only sense you will get you will make a judgement meaning a decision about my body

and the way the refrigerator light hangs on to certain parts of it how my ears make the smallest shadows the way my fingers can’t fit the whole way around the water glass you will watch me move back to bed back to my room you can watch me sleep see how i do that too my foot is hanging out from under the covers exposed but at a distance there is some control i can’t tell you how to know but i can make my foot visible does it look how you pictured a woman's foot to look is that something you're into certain parts of my body are very womanly do you like that too have you seen me throw on a t-shirt pull my jeans on leg by leg step into my boots have you seen me on the street wearing all this what did you think of my body then am i still the same or did it ruin it for you or could you still see the light hanging onto my chest hanging on to those parts of me that excited you



Can’t get enough of Nourrir? Check out last month’s issue. It was a good one.