You know that moment during a game of “Candy Girl" (refresher if you need it) when someone would yell out "This is the way we do the Salt n Pepa!!!!” and EVERYONE would go wild, doing their best impression of whatever they thought the Salt n Pepa should be, fat little girlbodies wriggling, braids slapping glasses, pink Reebok princesses hitting the ground, before finally collapsing in a sweaty, giggling heap? That’s one definition of Peak Blackness, for how much we loved trying to duplicate Salt n Pepa n Spinderella’s untouchable coolness and how we never even came close.


How awesome is this? The very first issue of Black Art, an international quarterly published in 1976. The publication has since gone on to be renamed the International Review of African American Art. This first issue has a feature on Afro-Brazilian art, a profile of photographer Armando Solis and a feature on collector Bob Holmes. #peakblackness #jahblessthearchive

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Rem, I see your personal #PeakBlackness moment and I raise you mine: A beautiful portrait of past, present and future greatness (pls, if you can, ignore Matthew Knowles, k? Thx and continue).

The best part of this total mall photo opp is knowing that although Solange will go through this, this and this she will one hundred percent completely arrive on the other side in total perfection as the one and true prototype

Shoutouts to the following 90s fashion realness: Side ponytail, midriff, matte burgundy lipstick, FILA. I repeat, FILA.  



Look. You don’t need me to tell you that things with Lil Kim have been a lil bit dicey lately. The Black Friday mixtape. Her relentless beef with Nicki. Her face. Her face. Her face. But earlier this year, on the first night of her “Return of the Queen” tour at the Paradise Theater in the Bronx, something magical happened. Missy Elliott and Eve came out on stage to perform “Hot Boys” with Ms. Kim. The place exploded. I’ve personally never testified so hard in my life. And then this beautiful image emerged of Kim, Eve, Missy and Pepa (just cause) chillin’ backstage, straight basking in each other’s glory, bodies pressed together, hands possessively on each other’s laps, loving life and each other.