Diary of a Mad Black Actor

Photo Credit:  Francesca www.xoxocesca.com

The pain of a throbbing big toe woke me in the middle of the night. I didn't even know I'd hurt it running until it felt like a searing hot iron touched to tender skin.

I stifle tears, praying away the sharp ache.  Sleepless and disturbed, the physical pain oddly unlocks a hidden vault - in my heart.

I thought of a recent conversation with a director.

"You don't seem angry," he said.

"I'm not," I answered, puzzled. The script hadn't called for the character to be mad.

"I thought all black women were angry," he stated.

Really? Just because I'm black? 

Awakened by pain, my heart began to speak. I. am. angry.  Raging. burning. achingly mad. 

Because you don't see me when you are creating projects.  It doesn't even occur to you that your cast is full of faces that look like Taylor Swift's.

"Your lips..." the makeup artist says to me, uncomfortably.

"What about them?" I ask, naively.

She struggles to explain. 

"Let me show you how to make them look smaller, um, not so....dark. They don't bother me," she wants me to understand, "But the director might want you to...do something about them."

She uses concealer to completely cover my lips. Then redraws a smaller outline with a light brown pencil. Fills them in with dewey lipstick.

Smaller. Lighter. Pinker.

"Now you can do it yourself....if you get complaints."

Humiliated. I am camera ready.

Praying that my hair and makeup don't rebel under the hot lights, I deliver my lines through the new, less offensive lips.

At home, I scrub off the fake face.  There they are:  full, dark, bold lips. I get them from my daddy. His are nearly black; soft. He once told me that as a young man he thought he was ugly.

Guess no one ever showed him how to draw a mask over his face...

I try to smile at the reflection in the mirror.

Raging. burning. aching pain.

Because you demand my gratitude at creating this mask. Require my devotion for a minute on the screen. Expect my admiration at what a saint you are for casting a sister.

"Yes, massa, you a good man."

On set, I make jokes to ease the tension of being the token black. We don't know how to act around each other.

You're afraid of me...hiding it behind an embrace, telling everyone, "Look, isn't she beautiful?" like a trophy on display.

I can tell you're irritated that I've invaded your space; that my mere presence demands...something. You quickly insert me in a scene. Feed me a few lines, or feature me prominently.

So that no one can accuse you of being racist.

I can tell you're upset. Because my look, my skin - the color of roasted coffee - "pulls focus" against the spray tans. blondes. blue eyes.

I want to go to sleep. Tomorrow I'll smile again through the painted-on pink lips...so that you don't reject me as just another mad, black actor.

Like the suppressed energy of an earthquake that splits the ground open and quickly diffuses, the raging, burning, aching pain settles back into its vault.

Quiet on the set, please.

Before She Broke the Internet

Photo:  Paper Magazine 2014

Before she tried to break the Internet, we broke secrets of Kim Kardashian's flawless looks. 

Kim has featured some of her favorite places in my Santa Monica neighborhood on her reality show.  I was astonished when I ran into her that she is quite gorgeous and even more petite than me, except her booty!

During a recent season of Keeping Up with the Kardashians, I interviewed celebrity beauty expert Dana Waldie about treatments and products stars like Kim use to get their red carpet looks.  

Check out the links below for tips on everything from choosing makeup to help you get that celebrity glow to determining the best facial treatment for your skin type. 

Keeping Up with the Kardashians beauty series:

Part 1:  Look younger without injections

Part 2:  What it's like working on a TV set

Part 3:  Expert tips for a flawless face

Part 4:  How to get the best facial for you

Is there really any value in Kim's full frontal strip show for Paper magazine?   True beauty isn't measured by the junk in your trunk but by the light of a soul set ablaze.  Still, no harm in stealing a few A-list beauty secrets.

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Runways and Red Carpets

Victoria Beckham.  Photo:  Elle Magazine 2014

Bring on the spice! Over the past year, I've been working with stylists and makeup artists and health experts who make the stars look so good.  They've been sharing secrets from the runway to the red carpet. 

I was never one of those girls who's obsessed with fashion or makeup or perfectly flat abs. Now I have a new appreciation for the creative ones who work in those industries. Instead of shunning the culture of beauty, my goal has been to embrace it in a way that's helpful to women. 

One of the God-given desires of a woman's heart is to feel beautiful. I was being handed so many helpful ways that have transformed my confidence that I wanted to share them. Here's a compilation of videos with guests from my lifestyle webisodes. For more on any of the A-list tips, you can check out full videos on my YouTube channel.

I'm so grateful for you, creative ones. And for you, for sharing this beautiful adventure!

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10 Tips for Keeping it Classy from the Red Carpet

Catherine Zeta-Jones at the American Film Institute tribute to Jane Fonda. June 2014

classy \ adjective : having qualities that make someone special and attractive : showing impressive character (Merriam-Webster dictionary)
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What makes a person classy?  Take Catherine Zeta Jones.  She's fought bi-polar disorder, a stormy marriage, a stalled career. Yet she still exudes class - not with a designer dress and diamonds, but with warmth and a wave.

So what's the difference between classy and trashy?  Here's a few things I've observed from the red carpet: 

1.  Classy people have mastered the art of flirting to make others feel special - not necessarily to get them into bed. 

2.  Classy people don't drink too much - both to avoid acting like a fool and long lines for the restroom. Squatting somewhere is never classy. Neither is peeing in a bucket, Mr. Bieber.

3.  Classy people aren't afraid to apologize, like Reese Witherspoon when she pulled the, "Do you know who I am?" line on a cop.   

4.  Classy people are kind even when others don't deserve it; no Alec Baldwin tantrums.  "Never sacrifice your class to get even with someone who has none." (author unknown)

5.  Classy people have a mystique that somehow commands it; that's why they can leave the see-through dresses to Rihanna.


6.  Classy people look others in the eye.  Besides, wearing sunglasses at night makes anyone look like a douche.  Except maybe Bono. And Stevie Wonder.

7.  Classy people end conversations graciously, even if they're talking to someone creepy.  

8.  Classy people wear panties in public. 

9.  Classy people aren't threatened by others' success and don't try to make anyone feel insignificant; they're secure enough to let you be fabulous.

10.  Classy people don't obsess over their fame; they see it mainly as a platform to do good and inspire the world.

And the bonus observation - classy people don't waste time trying to make others love them. Instead, they unselfishly love the ones who matter most.  

"Too much of the time, we are blinded by our own pursuit of people [that don't even matter] to love us, while the people who do love us...watch us beg in the streets." (C. JoyBell)

Keep it classy.

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Oscars-Inspired Looks

We all want to know the secrets to how the stars get that red carpet glow. With the Oscars this week, I interviewed a celebrity makeup artist about Oscars-inspired looks to do at home. Check out the video below.  

We also answer beauty questions you've asked on my Facebook page. Flaking mascara?  Dark undereye circles? Solutions to those problems and more for an A-list look - anytime you feel like it!

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Pt. 2: Keeping Up with the Kardashians - Behind the Scenes of My TV Pilot

E! photo

The pampered Hollywood lifestyle is about as far from my background as you can get. Raised on US military bases, we learned how to salute and survive in the wilderness; in Hollywood, it's all about appearance - like how to apply airbrushed makeup or cover the breasts in sheer tops (Band-aids. Really).

For someone who still prefers combat boots to high heels, I have to step out of my comfort zone when I'm working on camera.  As part of my Keeping Up with the Kardashians series, I take you behind the scenes to show what it's like shooting a TV show pilot.  

I'm on set all week with the team behind blockbuster films like Chronicles of Narnia, The Passion of the Christ and The Secret Life of Bees as they expand their film-making success into TV (in case you're wondering, a "pilot" is basically a test episode for TV decision-makers to see.  Most shows start as pilots before getting picked up as series). 

Like any woman, the Kardashians don't roll out of bed looking flawless.  But unlike most of us, they have a team of stylists at hand.  To me, that's one of the best parts of working on camera - so nice to have someone else take care of hair, makeup and wardrobe while you simply relax, talk or even nap!

In the makeup room

I did channel my inner Kim K. a few times, vetoing some choices like airbrushed foundation that masked my skin's natural brightness and hairstyles needing extra hold since hairspray breaks off my fine hair.

Another great thing: craft services. Who doesn't love a buffet? I arrived at my call time each morning and fueled up on scrambled eggs, fresh strawberries, pineapple, grapes and melon. 

I try to avoid gluten and sugar so stayed away from the sandwich and dessert trays (although I did sneak a brownie or two!).  My vice: drinking caffeinated soda for the long hours on set.

Of course, there are the less glam times on a production, like long wait times between segments for set and lighting adjustments. And deadline pressures and creative differences can lead to friction but fortunately our cast and crew got along well.

On set of the talk show pilot

We shot four pilot episodes over two days dishing on everything from sex to marriage to afterlife but we won't know the show's future for several months.  
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Check out part 3 of my Kardashians series with tips on how to get a flawless face here.

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All That Glitters...

All that glitters...that saying about fake worth is so true in Hollywood, where breasts, lips, buttocks are traded like used cars.  Even though I'm used to being around women with enough fillers and implants to make a mannequin jealous, I find myself battling the image pressure.

That's why Alissa and I went for every beauty trick in the book (excluding plastic surgery) for the Emmys: brow jobs, false lashes, hair extensions, exfoliators, bright red mani/pedis, fake tan, Spanx, more makeup than the Kardashians.

And in the end we were left feeling...not very beautiful.  We lost ourselves.  

"I felt so overdone with crazy eyelashes out to here and these big red lips," said Alissa. "It was too much. I felt like a tranny."

The makeup counter promises and dressing room skinny mirrors were like fool's gold.  Yet the over-the-top glam  left us feeling fake and awkward, especially me since I let others convince me to buy a girly dress instead of a simple one so I was squirming like a six-year-old in a church pew.

Our experience proved that nothing is as alluring as a woman at ease in her own skin.

"We tortured ourselves," said Alissa, "wanting to be who we're not." 

After the show we came home, washed our faces and went out - sans the glitter. 

"Your drinks are on me," said the first man who saw us, "because you are the most beautiful women here." 

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Red Carpet Ready - Part 2

Good news:  received our Emmy tickets.  Bad news:  still haven't found a gown.  Seems like I've tried on every dress in LA - driving miles in 100 degree heat just to be zipped and cinched like a Hefty sack.

Raised in the Baptist South, fashion and makeup were not priorities. The few style lessons we were taught included: 

1. Avoid red lipstick; people will think you're a whore
2. ALWAYS make sure your skirt hem covers the knee
3. Exposed cleavage? that is the unpardonable sin (raising a tomboy who wouldn't be caught dead showing cleavage probably saved my parents a heart attack) 

While I outgrew overalls and learned to 'paint my face,' I'm not sure the Baptists were totally off base in thinking that caked on makeup was an attempt to mask poor self-esteem or that splurging on exorbitant fads was wasted opportunity to help the needy.

But after working in Hollywood, I've come to find a balance between the Baptists and the beauty-makers.  Seeing a makeup artist transform a face or a fashion designer create a garment out of shapeless fabric is as inspiring as when any artist turns the ordinary into the divine.

Emmy host Jimmy Kimmel and execs roll out the red carpet for Sunday's show

Fortunately we have stylists for the Emmys. I might even go strapless. Or wear red lipstick. Yes, my Baptist friends may feel the need to host an intervention.
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Check out photos of my road to the red carpet here.

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Red Carpet Ready

Kerry Washington at the 2011 Emmy Awards Photo:  International Business Times

Starting a series on the road to the red carpet!  I'll be live at the Emmy Awards on Sunday, Sept. 23, 2012 www.emmys.com

Designer gowns, tuxes, celebrities...Hollywood produces more red carpet events than anywhere in the world.  Next up: the Emmys!  Thankfully I've become more fashion savvy since moving to LA.

Hired by Backstage magazine to cover a film premiere at Grauman's Chinese Theater, the assignment didn't include a stylist. Thus, I committed the cardinal sin: wearing flats on the red carpet.

"How could you?" a friend actually said to me.  Well, as an investigative reporter I'd spent more time behind crime tape than velvet ropes.  Try perching in Christian Louboutins at an all-night hostage standoff.

Soon after going to work at The Hollywood Reporter, my boss told me I'd be attending the BAFTA Awards (British version of the Oscars) - that night.

I felt like Cinderella.  I'd be rubbing elbows with guests like Denzel Washington and Julia Roberts and I didn't have a gown.  My former TV stations had taken care of everything when we needed formal attire so there'd been no need to buy a gown that could only be worn once on-air.

Enter fairy godmother (they do exist!). A co-worker must have heard me sniffling in my cubicle. "Stand up," she ordered, visually taking in my measurements.  "Come with me."

My fairy godmother drove me to her Hollywood Hills home where a lady-in-waiting (ok, her daughter) met us.  An aspiring stylist, she'd seen to every detail from gowns to makeup to glass slippers (ok, high heels).

The ballroom, a sea of silk and diamonds, was just like the fairytale.  At the end of the enchanted evening, my chariot (ok, taxi) was waiting.  

I didn't think of it before but one detail was missing.  Where was Prince Charming?

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Check out part 2 of my road to the red carpet here.

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Kinky. Nappy. Frizzy.

Gabby Douglas. Photo: www.fleurdecurl.com

Gold medalist Gabby Douglas responded beautifully to haters who said her hair looked "unkempt" at the Olympics:  "I just made history and people are focused on my hair?"

I lived in Gabby's Iowa town back when I was chasing presidential candidates through cornfields for the NBC station. I covered politics but that changed the day I was sent to fill in at the murder trial for two teen brothers.

The brothers claimed they had just meant to scare the victim - chasing him with a shotgun - but a bullet had ricocheted off the ground. The courtroom drama was made-for-TV stuff.

At one point, the prosecutor grabbed the shotgun off the evidence table, aimed at the jury and cocked it.  Screams.  People ducking. Banging gavel.

The prosecutor had made his point:  Waving a gun in the air? That's scaring someone.  Pulling a trigger?  That's murder.

"You're on the crime beat now," my boss said after my stories aired to stellar ratings.

On that beat, you quickly see that weapons are more than guns and knives. Sometimes they're words...like the ones hurled at Gabby Douglas.  Meant to crush not the body, but the spirit. 

Someone needs to give her a hair intervention.  

She needs some gel and a brush.  

She needs to represent. 

Kinky. Nappy. Frizzy.  For many Black women, our hair sometimes feels like a crown of thorns.

Gabby doesn't see it that way. "It can be bald or short," she said, "it doesn't matter about (my) hair."

The name of my blog comes from a critic's comment, "Honey, blot your lips!"  We pinned up that note as a reminder to check each other's appearance before going on air.  We learned to turn meanness into motivation and garbage into gold - just like Gabby's done.

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Girls Who Wear Pink

Kendra Wilkinson & Hank Baskett.

As a kid, I did not wear pink.  I lived in sneakers and overalls and my dad's army boots.  I loved clomping around in  his big, spiffy combat boots.  They were black and shiny and made me feel fierce and unstoppable.  

I still prefer to wear combat boots over high heels but thanks to a Playboy Playmate, I'm finally becoming one of those girls who wear pink (not a bunny suit!). 

I tuned in to the TV show Kendra on Top to watch a friend's guest appearance on reality the show. The show follows a racy former Playmate and her husband, Hank, as they leave the fast lane for family life. I caught an episode about Hank training to break into TV after retiring from the NFL. 

Watching Hank work with a TV hosting coach, I wondered if she might be able to help me, too.  Newscasters have a distinct on-air style that's gotten in my way when I audition for more creative roles.  At one commercial test, a cranky agent even snapped, "I want you to sell the sugar, not put it on the news." 

A phone call and $600 later, I was signed up for a weekend with Hollywood's self-professed Queen of Hosting. Marki Costello's roster includes celebrities like Cee Lo, Khloe Kardashian and many more.  

Time to step up my game fast. Hosting Boot Camp was just a month away. 

Since we'd be filming against in a green screen studio, I knew I'd need new clothes.  My closet is full of dark and neutral colors that look fine for reporting in the field but that are way too dull in the studio.  

Time had come to join the girls who wear...

Yep.  Pink would perfectly "pop" with my skin tone.  Bought my first-ever pink blouse.  Hope it looks okay with combat boots.

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You Are Beautiful

Photo: Maria Peterson Photography

An elderly woman approached me in the store. "You have a cute nose," she said. "Is it yours?"

"She asked because you live in Hollywood," a friend said. Maybe. Or have we become so used to images of injected, tucked, implanted women that the real thing surprises us?

Friends said my feelings about cosmetic surgery would change as I got older. They haven't. I still think women often look less attractive after their procedures.

One friend's lips are so plump she reminds me of the Joker. I'm not being mean; I just thought her mouth was the right size and shape for her thin face before the fillers.

I used to dread representing my station at public events; viewers often slammed my natural hair, full lips, curvy (size six) hips. 

So my TV bosses would hire a stylist, hair and makeup artists to mold me into the perfect talking head. 

"I don't care if you make me a blonde," I told them, "It's your money."

I've learned to accept the ugly side of show business but I still don't want to try to look like Beyoncé. Of course, she's gorgeous but no amount of nipping, Botoxing or augmenting will make me Beyoncé.

Thankfully the mirror doesn't have to remain our enemy. Accepting our natural beauty is worth far more than any perpetually perky boobs or flawlessly sculpted abs will ever be.

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Fifteen Seconds

Haiti rescue efforts AP photo

As reporters leaving on dangerous assignments, we'd half-jokingly say, "Make sure I get my 15 seconds." 

See, a dead journalist is worth about 15-seconds on network news. Even though it could cost our lives, we were compelled to tell the story...just like now with Haiti.

As journalists, we learn to tell history in seconds. In 15 seconds, an earthquake flattens a nation. an assassin's bullet slays a civil rights leader. a levee breaks. a wall falls. a plane topples a tower.

But I'm Miss Hollywood now. I cover red carpets and wear lipstick. I'm not cut out for sleeping in the dirt and eating cold soup from a tin can.

Yet, something whispers that I was created to walk among the ruins, to comfort orphans, to hold the dying.

Yes, we're afraid for our safety. The head of the medical team I'm traveling with told reporters: "We know we're going into a dangerous situation, but people are dying because nobody is there to help."

Dying now not from injuries but simply because they need water. In an age of wireless networks, 3D and satellite, we can't get a drink to a thirsty child.

At first, I didn't want to go...fear. horrific conditions. overwhelming sense of futility. But as I told friends, "This is a moment in history in which I've been invited to play a role. How can I say no any longer?"

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Girly Girls and Tomboys

I'm still trying to decide whether to keep blogging. It seems a bit narcissistic and I'm not sure I want my thoughts archived for just anyone to read. Some friends have encouraged me to keep writing though, so here goes.

A lot of people told me it was crazy risky to head for an unknown future in Hollywood. Maybe they were right, based on some of the advice I've been getting.

So I've been advised to look more "Hollywood" - closer to how directors would cast me. 

The problem is my outside says "girly girl" - not just any girly girl, the PERKY one - but my inside still screams tomboy.  Don't let my curves and sweet demeanor fool you.

I was such a tomboy growing up that I'd charge girls a nickel for "protection" on the grade school playground.  For five cents, I'd threaten the boys with boxing moves my dad taught me if they tried to peek under the girls' dresses to see their underpants.

I was pretty intimidating. So strong and fast and TALL (early growth spurt) that our sixth grade teacher even gave me my own gym class along with her son. Brett and I were the biggest kids in school; teachers were afraid we might accidentally maim the other kids kicking a soccer ball or tackling them.

My self-image apparently remains rooted back on the playground (though I haven't threatened to beat anyone up. lately).  

Still, my acting coach is encouraging me to work on the girly stuff.  You know: wearing more makeup; slapping extensions in the hair; wearing more form-fitting clothes - the kind of stuff that matters immensely in Hollywood.  

And so I'm reminded of a viewer's advice at my first TV job. She'd written a note on a Kleenex saying: "Honey, blot your lips!"  

So here I am in Hollywood. Finally blotting.

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Blot Your Lips!

Photo:  Melran. Etsy

"Blot Your Lips!" is about living life beautifully - hearts set ablaze. Words. Images. Inspiration.  It's also about chasing an impossible dream that took me from a small Bible Belt town to Hollywood.

The name, "Blot Your Lips!" came from my first TV job fresh out of journalism school.  I was hired as a reporter at a midwestern NBC affiliate that was surrounded by cornfields. Really. 

On slow news days - when a tornado didn't rip through a mobile home park or a freight train derail - I would catch up on notes from viewers with our evening anchor, Pam. 

One viewer wanted to make sure she got our attention.  She had mailed a crisply-folded white Kleenex with these words written on it in bold, red marker: "Honey, blot your lips!"  Below the words, she had demonstrated the perfect blotting technique.

Instead of throwing the note away, Pam pinned it up on our newsroom  bulletin board. She wanted to keep it as a reminder to check each other's makeup and hair before we went on air.  Our station was too small to afford stylists so we were on our own.

Some nights we would simply ask each other, "Blot?"  It was our code for, "Do I look ok?"

Pam taught me that we don't have to be enemies even if we're competing for the same spotlight. And she taught me how to stay beautiful even when people do ugly things to pull you down.

I hope she kept that Kleenex. And I hope here you will find words, images, inspiration that set your heart ablaze.

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