By Mieka Strawhorn | Celebrity | May 14, 2018 |
By Mieka Strawhorn | Celebrity | May 14, 2018 |
A lot of people agree that Lupita Nyong’o is so lovely it hurts. Seeing pictures of her defying gravity (and several other laws of physics) in a pink organza Prada gown at Cannes this weekend, literally took my breath away. Lupita’s fluttery, feminine incandescence in that dress gave me all kinds of feels.
There’s something so captivating, natural, and achingly beautiful about what Lupita can do with a dress, that it makes me want to run out and buy a football field length of tulle and just spin, spin, spin, until I fall to the ground in a fit of giggles, tiny silver butterflies, each ensconced in an iridescent soap bubble, flying from my mouth. And I hardly ever wear dresses!
When I was a young girl, I didn’t know I could twirl. I didn’t know it was something that black girls could do. I honestly didn’t realize we could just go ahead and do it, not until I saw Lupita do it. I’m older than dirt now, and my best twirling days far behind me. But between the ages of 5 and 10, I wanted to twirl, carefree and with gusto. My twirl icons were Lynda Carter and Dorothy Hamill. Ok, Tootie from The Facts of Life could get a tight little circle together on her roller skates, but she was clumsy as hell. But I couldn’t flip my hair like the white women in the shampoo commercials, and sure as hell couldn’t twirl. Or so I thought. I let my unruly body and my unruly hair keep me from twirling. What a shame.
Today, there is some young black child looking at Lupita, seeing the impossible (I mean, how does she even? Black girl magic, I suppose), made possible. Representation matters, and I, for one, am all the way here for Lupita representing a flawlessly executed twirl that could put Cinderella, Wonder Woman, and the Mevlevi whirling dervishes, all to shame.