“Style transcends race, class and time.” - Andre Leon Talley, US Vogue magazine editor-at-large

I am the granddaughter of a woman who put on red lipstick to go to the mailbox.

My grandmother, Annie Lee Ledbetter, believed that even though she sometimes did not have a pot to “you know what” in, she did not have to look like it. This does not mean that she wasted money or went without basic necessities just to look stylish - not in the least. What she did was treat herself to things that made her shine and feel good.

This could have been going to Goldsmith’s in downtown Memphis, or taking her daughter (my mom) shopping at Lander’s or Levy’s (sp). “Muh’Dear” or “Muh,” as we called my grandmother, made sure everything was in tip top shape when she left the house: her shoes and handbag matched, her hat was in place and that red, red lipstick had been applied with the utmost precision. My grandfather called it “war paint.”

I didn’t understand this type of thinking until later. During my teens and my early 20s, I went through the TLC-combat boots-baggy pants stage. I even used this look as my solace during my television career, stripping off the suits and make-up as soon as the camera lights when off.

But something happened when I moved to Europe. Maybe it was because I’d crossed over 30 or maybe it was just a need to reinvent myself. I started to appreciate my “being” and started to take notice of my clothing, my nails, my makeup (or lack of it). Basically, I did a complete outer shell overhaul. The ripped-up, stonewashed jeans went in the trash, the stained t-shirts morphed into cleaning rags, and the cheap Payless shoes went straight to hell. Before I realized it, my closet was full of skirts, dresses and other items that would make Muh proud.

I had started a long, wonderful relationship with my inner diva.

A few weeks ago, I asked myself the following question as I was walking down Bahnhofstrasse here in Zurich: Whatever happened to the elegance that kept the heads of my grandmother, mother and aunts raised high through any type of situation? I don’t mean splurging on consumption in the archetypically hedonistic fashion, such as with the current “bling-bling” pseudo elegance, but treating yourself gently, reflecting grace and elegance.

I’m talking about the real, self-affirming, seemingly effortless elegance from back in the day. If you’re from the US South, or your parents or grandparents hail from that part of the world, you know what I’m talking about. It’s not a superficial or dishonest elegance. It’s a deep solid one, one that goes deeper than just to the bone: soul elegance.

Whatever happened to wearing nice shoes once in a while instead of trainers all the time? Whatever happened to dressing in outfits that actually fit instead of baggy jeans or way-too-tight pants with a thong showing?

Whatever happened to class?

Rashonista.com was started because of these questions.

This site is dedicated to fashion, elegance, style and all of the things associated with them. Here, you’ll find my take on designers, products, and good ol’ etiquette and home training. Think Jackie O with a tan.

Better yet, think B Smith with broadband.

I hope you enjoy Rashonista.com as much as I do…and may we all find that perfect shade of red, red lipstick.

Take care,

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