It’s May 6, 2022. Welcome to Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (aka, FOWC). I will be posting each day’s word just after midnight Pacific Time (U.S.).
Today’s word is “pedestrian.”
Write a post using that word. It can be prose, poetry, fiction, non-fiction. It can be any length. It can be just a picture or a drawing if you want. No holds barred, so to speak.
Once you are done, tag your post with #FOWC and create a pingback to this post if you are on WordPress. Please check to confirm that your pingback is there. If not, please manually add your link in the comments.
And be sure to read the posts of other bloggers who respond to this prompt. Show them some love.
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In a clip that went viral on social media, Rihanna was seen gliding through a scrum of photographers into the Jardin des Tuileries show space, her hands proudly placed on her abdomen, when an attendee heckled her tardiness. “You’re late!” an unseen woman was heard calling. “No shit,” Rihanna said, as she continued on, barely glancing …
Pregnant Rihanna is our Gaia, and the tendency to see her as a goddesslike entity began far before she was with child. Her sultry beauty, her golden touch as a hitmaker, her incredible success as a businesswoman (last summer, Forbes declared her officially a billionaire), and, especially, her seemingly inherent ability to never let anyone see her sweat have combined to make her appear almost unearthly. (One well-known meme has collected a series of images in which Rihanna, shod in vertiginous stilettos, manages, as if by magic, to avoid getting her heel stuck in grates. “Jesus walked on water and Rihanna walks on grates in heels, I see no difference,” a woman tweeted in response to the photos.)
As with other elements of a mega-celebrity’s life, a front-facing, pathbreaking pregnancy like Rihanna’s necessitates a certain level of mystification of the pains taken behind the scenes.
Rihanna, as my colleague Doreen St. Félix wrote in a 2015 piece in Pitchfork, “functions just outside of the womanish labor so often determining blackness,” and there is a particular political significance, too, in the positioning of a Black woman as an idol among mortals—one who, in placing the fact of her pregnancy front and center, manages to still gloss over even its relatively minor potential difficulties, at least publicly—the bloating, the heartburn, the swelling, the fatigue—not to mention concurrent personal events that would surely be jarring to any woman, pregnant or otherwise. ………
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