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About GirlrillaVintage the Blog

PEACE! I’m Gracie Berry, a Black-Afrikan, queer, cis-woman, community root-healer/educator, multi-dimensional creative, womanist and owner of GirlrillaVintage. As a griot, its important to the integrity of my work that I share my life’s experiences and messages in a ways that honors my ancestors and comes from an Afro-diasporic centered view point before any of the margins. Showcasing my art, activism, autochthonous Afrikan-spirit, my story, vintage, words. Community roothealer. Here to love and liberate my people. I founded GirlrillaVintage in 2010, an Afrikan Roots & Empowerment Organization that shares Afrikan cultural diaspora content, events, and perspectives through the offerings of education, expressive arts, spirituality, vintage aesthetic, and workshops. A creative platform that uplifts Black and Brown communities, lineages, narratives, and stories, and uses compassion and creative problem solving to empower and reawaken possibility in and around my community. Visit my website at www.girlrillavintage.com

“Don’t Save Her. She Don’t Wanna Be Saved”: How the Ho/Queen Dichotomy is Killing the Black Body

“if your ‘pro-black woman’ movement does not include hoodrats & ratchet black women, because ‘theyre not queens/theyre setting black women back’, your movement is bullshit and I want no part of it any movement that segregates my sisters into ‘good and respectable’ and ‘bad and deserves disrespect’ categories is harmful and bullshiterious”
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One time for my LA sisters

One time for my LA hoes

Lame niggas can’t tell the difference

One time for a nigga who knows

J Cole’s catchy chant in “No Role Modelz” reminds us that there’s a difference between hoes and sisters. This meme reminds us that there’s a difference between queens and peasants. I am reminded of how commonplace it is to evaluate Black women’s worth based on how we choose to represent ourselves. And that makes me feel some typa way.

The intention of these messages is to promote self-respect in a society that has profited from demeaning us. To celebrate images of Black womanhood that are not predicated upon hyper-sexuality and one-dimensional tropes. But, for me, the intention is lost in a tone that echoes sentiments that were used to dehumanize Black women during slavery and to distinguish them from their white counterparts post-slavery. A Tumblr…

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Vintage Pearl

beautiful time celebrating kimmy and shawns wedding tonight! took a #sexyselfieforperleycooper afterwards. he’s so rad! ambitious vintage pearl! drove his harley 5-hours to atlanta for a dope funk show. told me this photo has an elektrik frida khalo vibe to it! vintage aesthetic. my vintage pearl. #vip #girlrillavintage #theeamazinggrace

PicMonkey Collage

Hang Her on the Wall Girl-Black Pin-ups

“Black Pin-Up Queens”
GirlrillaVintage Honors the Original Hang Her on the Wall Girl

“These are my custom made, wearable-intervention-art pieces, featuring vintage and vintage style black pin-up girls. Women who occupy a forever space of belonging in my heart. This is an ode to them and for the people who love them. Unlike white pin-up models of the time, praised for their beauty, black pin-up models were fetishized for their sexual prowess and curvaceous attributes. Black girls who weren’t cherished by soldiers overseas, pinned on walls, or lockers, but were hidden under mattresses, cloaked in secrecy, dirty little secrets, fetishized in private. Black pin-up girls were not idealized versions of what was thought of as beautiful or attractive. And despite the fact that Josephine Baker, Dorothy Dandrige, Lena Horne, and Eartha Kitt were all categorized as “burlesque” and “pin-ups” of the time, black pin-up models in general weren’t as widely distributed as white women of the same time period. This art is to honor, not overshadow to those black women, disempowered, abused and unrecognized like Sartje Baartman taken from Africa to England and placed in a freak show because of her “disproportionate” body, to those that bore for the love of art and self-expression. To the women in these images, thank you for letting me find you. Thank you for giving me permission to honor you this way.”

Love and Light,
Thee Amazing Gracie

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On Being Human

Some parts of me are delicate. Some parts of me are hard as a rock. I blame it on the human experience. Being thrust from spirit filled spaces to common ground really complicates things. Really makes life a difficult task. Its like we have to unlearn everything we’ve ever learned on the other side of our lives. And some is great, but most is treacherous. And loving unconditional is essential-its damn hard though. ‪#‎theeamazinggrace‬

Amerika Awakes: Racism Is Dying

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This is my ‪#‎racismisdying‬ ‪#‎visionboard‬ created from a vintage LP cover! I went beyond what was intended. I taped my poem to the other side when I performed the other night. The convos to generate from it were invaluable. And I want to water seeds in my people. I want us to become our own endless possibility. Like visualizing us alive in our world and being unapologetic or scarred about it-RIDE THE FEAR! To tell our stories from our own mouths. We’re valuable no matter how you feel about it. ‪#‎amerikaawakes‬ ‪#‎rebirth‬ ‪#‎stayinthestruggle‬ ‪#‎love‬ #theeamazinggrace #girlrillavintage #blacklivesmatter

Remember Life Before the Boat?

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To my BOLD people of Afrikan descent please accept these words I wrote and performed. I felt shame when I watched it because it wasn’t my best, but I had to remember why I wrote them and how much I’m inspired by you and there is no shame in that. My words come from someplace and are important, so I want to share them. Once I commit them to memory its a wrap tho lol! Shoutout to Coco for recording! #lifebeforetheboat #wecomefromsomeplace #girlrillavintage #blacklivesmatter #theeamazinggrace

Remember life before the boat? How we honored each other? Loved on each other? Made a big ole fuss over each other? And how shade was nothing more than shelter to catch some cool? When oiling scalp time was our love time? Or when we would hunt, fish, and gather wild honey? Or sat silent just because. Or how the OLAYOS would be all loud IN THEY BACKYARD SINGING TO THE MOON LIKE, lululululu? And how those thick and small would do the Mapouka in the rain? OR TWERKING IS WHAT THEY CALL IT NOW A DAYS? How those hurricane movements were expressions of the joy we felt at our bodies ability to move like that? Oh and we laughed cause there was no judgment only love and safety? And how we worshipped the sun for how it kissed us? And how we held feasts for the MudjaJi-The Rain Mother, for CALLING ON THE RAIN TO BRING US food? How vibrant the colors of our people? And how we wore little to cover our skin, so we could decorate it, with elaborate jewels, COLORFUL BEADS, SYMBOLIC war paint, and markings? We come from someplace.

To my BOLD people of AfriKan descent sitting here today I thank you! I thank you for existing, for breathing, for living your best life in spite of yourselves. Thank you for letting me speak to you like this. We exist! Each carefully handcrafted by the CREATIVE. We are the foundation of love. And I remember the harshness attached to each one of us and how we HOLD OUR HEADS UP HIGH TO SURVIVE even today, but love still fills our SPACE-Spirits look around, see how we NEVER FORGOT TO gather like this? Give yourselves credit for the the things you do and this Unity peace is beautiful. And though we weren’t acknowledged by our names, more by our frames we were never insignificant. And we exist for every reason. Go ‘head be as brilliant as you wanna be! Be as flawed and ratchet as you wanna be. ‘Cause our stories are now being told from our own mouths and we reclaim our own bodies cause Being of Melanin is A GIFT from God-Our skin is a visual poem from God. To US beautiful people of AfriKan descent born in America, born in Dominican, born in Cuba, born in Trinidad, born in Germany WE AFRIKANS. LIKE BABA KWAME TURE SAID, ONCE YOU JUST AFRIKAN AIN’T NO QUESTION. And I DON’T NEED TO KNOW YOU TO LOVE YOU TO TEARS OR TO HOLD YOU ALIVE IN MY HEART. YOU ARE VALUABLE NO MATTER HOW YOU FEEL ABOUT IT. You come from some place.

Remember life before the boat? How we honored each other and loved ON each other? And IT’S COOL IF YOU DON’T cause that’s what I’m here for, a messenger, a GRIOT, a CARRIER OF OUR CULTURES STORIES, OUR STORIES, MORE ALIVE THAN DEAD. OUR RICH AND AMBITIOUS STORIES-MORE ALIVE THAN DEAD! ESPECIALLY WITH YOU HERE WITH ME TODAY. BEING OF MELANIN IS SO MUCH MORE THAN BEING BLACK. WE GOTTA GET BACK TO falling in love with OURSELVES. TO BEING OUR Own endless possibility. AND CAN YOU Imagine A world where us AfriKan descendants suddenly started speaking our OWN native languages Wherever we are in the world? Like the words just FALL out of the sky and into our mouths? NOW THAT WOULD BE THE DAY-Explosive AND SONIC LIKE THE SOUNDS OF AFRIKAN drums in Congo square, IN PROSPECT PARK. HEALING IS WHAT WE NEED. HUGS IS WHAT WE NEED. LOVE IS WHAT WE NEED. ONE LOVE TO THE PEOPLE! -Gracie THEE AMAZING GRACE Berry