Prequel: It was about 2003. I was (still) in high school, and found the most awesome hair dresser ever. She gave me free stuff all the time, and I had started to become addicted to shampoo head massages. It always smelled good, and was quiet due to her operating solely and having the sense to not double-book folks and keep you in there all day. Her shop became a place of refuge for me. The place even had a soundtrack: wafting softly through the speakers was this relaxed voice. I had to find out who she was…
|She was going places, yo.|
Enter Amerie Mi Marie Rogers, a gorgeous young lady who I thought (at the time) would be going places, especially considering the appeal the record “All I Have” had. I STILL play that record. I figured she could hop on the train with Jill Scott ‘nem, and we’d have another soul girl that would eventually come into her own.
Too bad optimism said, “NAWL, girl!” and proceeded to push, not shove, her into the glass case of FAIL that currently surrounds her. Everything she’s laid her hand to has failed, at least in the music sense. I’m sure she has a healthy marriage and relationship with her children, and who wouldn’t, when your album sales are going Styrofoam cup? Let’s discuss her journey into the never ending spiral of FAIL.
- Touch: The 2005 album that gave us her “new image,” this whole good girl playing bad girl dress up shtick, which only worked for Rihanna. Started out with the single “1 Thing,” which annoyed me to no end with that whole “NOMMA NOMMA NOM- OH!” chant in the background, and was just all kinds of high-pitched and squealy. Then she released that bore of a song, “Touch.” I don’t even have the energy to critique that without my eyelids drooping over.
That European Album from 2007: Actually, I don’t have anything to say about that… By this time, I had given up all hope of her giving me what made me a fan in the first place. It was almost like an amicable breakup: I wish you well, but I’m not really checkin’ for you no more.
- Adding that Wretched Second ‘I’ To Her Name: What does it mean? What is its purpose? Twitter was a-buzz with their musings behind the meaning (irrelevant, ignorant, identity crisis… and the list goes on), while all I could do was shake my head… Speaking of heads, that leads me to her next stunt:
|WHAT?! I’da just told them I got attacked by a Clorox-wielding toddler.|
In an interview given to Rap-Up magazine (insert photo credit here), she states her inspiration for this… well, I don’t know what to call it:
“One of the things that inspired me are photos I’ve seen of children in the Solomon Islands. They are very brown-skinned, and a lot of them grow white-blonde hair naturally. The contrast in dark skin tone and extremely light hair is really beautiful to me. So I just went for it!”
Uh… Amii? Sweetie? Children can pull that look off, because their faces filled with joy, love, and mass amounts of sugar carry them. You, however, should have not passed go, and given the hairstylist the $200 to fry, dye, and blow dry your mane into what I believe will be a crumbly disaster by November. I don’t see the contrast in her features anymore! She was gorgeous to begin with… why she keep doing stuff like this?
I believe she needs to consult with a counselor, or at the very least, her Sassy Gay Friend. The glass case of FAIL has locked her up, and won’t let her out. Somebody’s got to free her. I say this out of love.
Let’s discuss: Any other people you know of that spiral endlessly into the realm of FAIL, and seemingly don’t want help?
Love and (appropriately colored) Sprinkles,