5 shades of grey striped pantsuit by Norma Kamali & vintage velvet hat c/o Uesa Vintage

I think it was Angie that first put the idea in my head.  Choir practice for the 175th Anniversary of Second Baptist had ended and we were making our way downstairs to wait on her Lyft and my Uber.  

“So what are you doing special for Christmas?” Angie inquired as she leaned against the wrought iron fence. 

“Trying to perfect my sweet potato pie recipe.” 

 “Why? You hate to cook.”

 “I was thinking I could make some extra money selling organic pies to all these folks living  around here.”  My voice rose an octave as I motioned to the 3 - high rise condominiums surrounding  the church on three sides.

“So now you are Patti Labelle?” Angie retorted, eyes twinkling. 

“Not quite,” I smiled. “But, I do admire her ability to turn simple root vegetables into a new income stream.”  

“I thought your fashion investigation / lounge singing business was booming.” 

“I’m doing ok. But for real, what DC doll can manage hair, nails and lashes on a singular  salary?" 

 “Maybe stop consignment  shopping,” Angie suggested.

“It’s not my clothes budget,” I mumbled.  “It’s the dollhouse.”

“So why don’t you use what you have to get more of what you want?”

“Ang,” I interrupted her before she got warmed up. "I am not dancing with you at the Stadium club.”

“Good,” Angie exhaled.  "Because no one wants to see you trying to fan dance in vintage knickers."

“You are not wrong,” I said.

We both laughed.

“Instead of trying to reinvent yourself,” Angie said earnestly.  “Think about the one thing you’ve been doing every week since you were a little girl and monetize it.”

“Wearing strip lashes?” I said seriously.

“No.”

“Misplacing public library books?”

 “No.”

 “Talking back to my elders?”

“No, girl. Singing at church.”

“Oh!, yeah.” It’s true. I have been singing at church weddings, wakes, funerals, baptisms, christenings, morning service, watch night services, etc.

“Right,” Angie interjected. “And, you are really good at it.”

“Ok.  But I never make any money singing at church.”

“Well, you can.  You know Tamika Charles?”

“The second soprano with asthma?”

“Yup.”

 “I haven’t seen her for about a year.”  

“Uh huh. She sings 1-2 songs at a different church every Sunday.”

“What?!,” I said, my large eyes opening wider.

“Yes, and now she motors around  in a blueberry Bentley."

“Enough said,”  I added.

  ———--

Epilogue: It’s Christmas time, darlings.  Don’t be surprised if you see me holding my own at a  Handel's Messiah rendition for Shiloh Baptist, Metropolitan AME, or the Shrine of the Immaculate Conception. 

Still Singing for my supper but at least I’m not baking pies,
S1m0ne ✌🏾👱🏾‍♀️🦋📱