In searching for images to represent the Afrobella aesthetic, I did a Google image search for Janet Jackson. I’m sad to report that the first thing that comes up is a giant close-up of her breast on that infamous Superbowl Sunday, nipple firmly trapped in what looks like a ninja star. To quote Regina Spektor, it breaks my heart, and it breaks my heart. Janet is more than a flash-in-the-pan breast baring stunt. She’s an icon.
I love her hair in this picture so, so much.
Her “Together Agai”n curly haired phase was crucial in my deciding to go natural.
Janet is incredibly beautiful, and like Toni Braxton, shouldn’t feel the need to expose her (still hot) body to keep her fans’ attention. When I catch her doing stuff like this, it strikes me as a bit sad. And then I think; no wonder Lena Horne didn’t want you to play her in that biopic, Janet.
I’ve been a fan since I was a little kid, since Penny Woods and Fame, girl. Rhythm Nation was the first album I ever bought. Now I’m grown, and you are too. So from one grown-ass-woman to another, I beg you to turn it down a notch, Janet. I get it, your body’s hot again. Everyone admires your determination, and I for one will definitely buy your workout DVD.
But for God’s sake, cover up a bit and show these young broads that sexy doesn’t have to mean slutty. And you know they all look up to you as an example.
All I’m saying is; don’t let this contrast be your defining moment.