Juju on the beat

If you are like me and had never heard of this trending song or the fact there was a challenge that went viral, then you are not alone  
I was killing time online as we all do sometimes, when I saw a video on Instagram of Blac Chyna (reality star popular for having a baby for another celebrity ...don’t ask) doing this challenge. 
It struck me that I had heard the song before …and this set off a long change of events with me spending a lot of time trying to listen to the song in this 2-minute video and then googling portions of what I heard to figure out the name of the song. I finally find it thanks to google and you tube, which I’m told are now one and the same?
Now, let’s not get it wrong - I have a very demanding job and I am really busy despite what it seems. 
So back to Juju on The Beat… 
This is one catchy song, though the words seemed totally pointless to me at the time. I could not for the life of me understand what they meant. I went searching again to find the writers of the song and try to get a handle on the ‘message’. Point was, juju on the beat had become juju on my mind and it wasn’t ready to leave in a hurry.
Research over, and I have my take on my small obsession: These wonderful 15-year old boys described something along the lines of how juju means it’s cool. On the beat means ‘repetitive’, so in other words, they were cool boys who had come to stay! 
Talk about being lost in translation! How could anyone from my part of the world and in my generation, have known that?!
Where we come from, Juju is either a style of music or African witchcraft! To say you have juju on the beat may mean you are listening to an African record continuously or you are an on-duty witch or wizard. And no there is no good variety of witches or wizards in Africa. 

The generational gap
I am curious as to how parenting children who understand the word juju to mean cool will be for a parent who sees it as witchcraft. Thankfully my kids are still too young to be independently exposed to popular culture and music (I hope). I still try to control the type and amount of popular music they listen to. 
Back to the matter  - with this song I will try to review the world of popular culture and what it means to be popular as a 30 something year old woman. 
It took me a while to research what the song meant because I could not keep singing a song I could not understand. Furthermore, my husband had begun giving me ‘side eye’ every time I burst spontaneously into song or demonstrated the steps to the chorus. 
Do your dance, do your dance ……
Yes, yes, I learnt it! And I danced with all the vigor I could muster, fully convinced I was burning 500+ calories and maybe a few more by adding the contorted facial expressions. I practiced continuously in front of the mirror. In my defense, anything worth doing is worth doing well.  Don’t go half out on something. Go all out.
I find that sometimes popular culture may make no sense. People just throw something up and others catch on. We just go along because everyone is doing it, singing it, wearing it, or becoming IT. 

The question is, why? Why am I doing it too? 
As a professional woman, I need to take the time and define my own reality. Take time to define and then research my own Nirvana and how to get there. Is there, and will there always be the crowd effect in our decisions? Is social media content nicer the more the number of views or likes or engagement? 
Maybe. Certainly, the more viral the content, the nicer we expect it to be. And then there’s peer pressure? Who wants to be the stale mum who still thinks dabbing has anything to do with open wounds and cotton wool! 
Most of all though, there’s life and what we make of it. Trends on social media are to be enjoyed. But enjoyed in your own way - put your own spin on it. Be you. Don’t conform. So, I might not do the juju on the beat moves at work on a Monday morning, but I’ll certainly burst a move at home with my wonderful back up dancers.
Lagos could be a tough gig without the laughs so why not laugh when you can.

Finally: When to draw the (trend) line
For a long time, it seemed the entire population of black women around the world would go natural. Take out all chemical additives to haircare, and just let things grow (or not grow) as nature intended.
Some of the results were terrible – people who didn’t have the right shape of head did it, people who clearly needed additives and wigs and special care did it, and people who frankly looked more beautiful with treated hair did it.
And the ruse of saving money by going natural was exactly that – a ruse.
 So not for everybody. At all, trend or no trend. And I will share my person journey into ‘au naturale’ land soon. So please stay tuned.

WHY I STOPPED WEARING JEANS

So, this happened kind of randomly...there was no great epiphany that informed this decision. I suddenly realized last Saturday that I could not consciously recall the last time I was in a pair of jeans!

This seemingly inconsequential fact brought up a lot of emotions and made me start thinking about my life and my age most especially. I mean I am not old. I don't feel old .in fact in mind I am all of 30! a grand young age so how have I possibly stopped wearing jeans. My most beloved apparel.

Power Bonding aka Business Network

As I started my musing, I began to unpick the memories in my mind like forgotten clothing from a dusty trunk box. See what had happened was that I was to attend this networking event for women in business and management.

When I was nominated from my office I was excited because it’s an event I have lusted after from a distance but refused to attend at my own expense...I know I know but I had a bit of an insecurity about it. I had gone for another conference previously for my professional group and everyone there was sent by their company and were in groups.

I had self-sponsored and felt very empowered but unfortunately when I arrived everyone was in a clique; the employer clique. It was a bit depressing to be honest but I plastered a smile on my face chest out and was networking like mad representing a company that did not deem it appropriate to expend money on this venture. I was making contacts that the same company profited from at my expense!

Anyway, I digress...because I knew that ultimately any contacts I would make at these networking events will be used by my employer directly I had decided for now not to pursue self-sponsored. so, imagine my great pleasure when I was nominated. I was psyched!!! networking professional women what a dream what could go wrong .... we are taking over the world.

Sadly, my story does not have a happy ending, well it does but not without a few dramatic interludes.

A few days before the event I began to review my wardrobe...

I mean this was my "coming out" event. new job, new role; professional woman role type. this was a biggie! also I was in the fashion capital of Nigeria...LAGOS. dressing in Lagos to a public event is a bit of a dance of wits.

How bold are you, how funky, how retro how polished, how cool, how causal, how sophisticated? every time you dress to go out to a public place the understanding is that you will be judged.

It’s a test of how much can you manage at a time without buckling under the pressure, before the stiff upper lip begins to quiver and before you say I think I better take my leave now... in some instances you may triumph... that new designer is a childhood friend and scored you some new collection items or you have enough disposable income to put a dent with your Louboutin on the floors of wherever you have been invited.

The drill is hair, clothes, shoes, bags, jewelry and attitude. You must check all as a woman in Lagos....if not I advise you take a bottle of Pepto-Bismol with you as the bad belles you will get most certainly will be epic.

So, I carefully considered my outfit for this event. I was not taking chances. I spoke to my reflection and I said madam respect yourself here. It’s show time! I always feel like a show pony at public events but that is a story for another day.

I opted for 2 Ankara dresses

I reasoned that I am not even going to attempt some cosmopolitan outfit. my tailor Abdul in Ikorodu is a designer in his own right! also opted for dresses because it was an all-day affair so I thought I might as well be comfortable. then shoes basic black and a nice signature bright orange bag...Nigerian designer (madame coquette).

It was the proudly Nigerian theme all the way with my outfit.  With my outfit sorted, wig firmly in place, bag on hand, and of course, the compulsory complimentary cards nicely stacked in easy access pouch, I was set.

As soon as I arrived and set out to arrange my game face, I saw her! Standing right there before me was a woman in jeans!! I was for the lack of a better word, scandalized!!! Jeans!!!! What is going on here, I thought in righteous indignation. Why on earth is this otherwise nicely packaged woman wearing jeans? I was so quite put out.

But then I began to wonder - what’s wrong with jeans? She might be an entrepreneur; she might be an artist or one of those new age free thinkers. Still, I struggled. This woman had the effrontery to show up in jeans. I was wondering how she was going to effectively network and if anyone will take her seriously.

Yes, jeans are comfy they can be flattering even. And when well tapered, they can suit perfectly. There dark wash types look almost like pants. What’s the big deal then?

That’s when it hit me: I had stopped wearing jeans sometime in the last quarter

The thing is, I had stopped working out which was the first thing ...so my jeans felt more like control pants with a cruel form of spandex that caught off my air supply.

Somehow, I always felt like I was trying too hard when I wore jeans....so I’ll have to wear a cute top then maybe a belt and then the right shoes. It wasn’t working for a me, I could just as easily slip on a free-flowing max dress with flats and pony tail and feel fabulous!

I realized also that as I got "older", time became more crucial to me. No more multiple choice pieces. My go-to is a 1 piece: dress, jumpsuit or caftan, and that is just it.

So yes, I love jeans as most people do. But not until I can go back to being rail thin where my hip bones supported my jeans so I look like I just threw it on. And not like I had the Heimlich maneuver performed on me to get into them. Until then, I dare say my love affair might just be over.

Back to my conference sister at the event - I salute your courage because from what I encountered fully dressed in my politically correct Ankara dress, our sisters must have chewed you out or as was the norm, just blatantly ignored you.