Just neon-ed myself.

One day I read a story in a magazine about a grandma that called her daughter in a panic, saying “I saw today that there are people googling themselves. Have you googled yourself before? I’ve done many things to myself in the past, but I’ve never googled myself…”

I feel like she must have today, because I did something I hadn’t done before – I neon-ed myself.

Neon. Bright forbidden hue that goes well with nothing and everything, and occurs not in nature. Shameless reminder of Vegas strips and “We’re Closed” signs, not to mentioned garishly dressed disco junkies from the 80s.

Well. So today I neon-ed myself. It started, as it always does, with a sighting in the leather store. It came home with me, my curious new friend, and I had to make something geometric, with not too much going on in terms of shape, seeing as the colours were already pumped up to the max. But I still had fun with afrominimalism – the front looks like a dogon mask or an Asanti akua’ba doll.

I think it’s bold. At a meeting today, the lady sitting next to me commented on the bag. She held it to her purple shirt and said jokingly, “see, it goes with this.” I said yes, neon is like black: it complements everything.

But you, dear reader, have the last say. So what do you think?

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