#black culture events NYC

[chewwytwee]

Okay so i reallllly like mad men, but something that's been bothering my entire watchthrough is how nice they make it look to live in the 50s. It borders on revisionism with how kind and socially conscious all of the characters in the show are. When watching the sopranos you didn't really get the feeling that you wanted to be in the mob, not just because of the stakes but because the people and culture are bad. Tony Sopano literally chases a black kid out of his home because he hates the idea of his daughter dating a black guy, but the show set in the 50s and 60s is too afraid to touch any social issues besides a vague pro-feminist 'women can be just as good as men in their own way!'.

[ramp-it-up]

Peach V

Peach IV | Peach VI

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is a mob boss trying to get clean. Maybe it’s because he’s in love. With you. He's got you on his turf in NYC. Are you finally willing to admit that you want to be with him?

Pairing: Art Dealer/Philanthopist (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: I love these two like I can’t explain. The slow burn speeds up a lil bit in this. There’s some action. 🥹 This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and DIRECTLY AFTER the events in the Steve Rogers fic Peach IV. Your interaction keeps me writing, so let me know if you like it by commenting and reblogging.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Angst. Slow burn, EXTREME Mutual pining, idiots in love, lusting, dancing lessons, use of the words ‘mad’ and ‘crazy,’ Bucky is a jerk, boy do you get jealous. Kissing and heavy petting in the form of oral sex, female receiving. Lil bit of Dom Steve if you squint. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

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I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

------

“Welcome to SOB’s.”

You were one of the first awardees up to present to the group. Each recipient picked a NYC area artistic landmark to research and lead the others on a tour, discussing the significance to the art form for which they received funding.

As always, you were going outside of the box.

You looked around and concentrated on not staring at Steve. He looked so fine, foregoing his tailored sport coats this evening for a black pullover pushed up on his hairy, corded forearms. 

Dark jeans clung to his thighs and black boots encased his huge feet. What he was wearing highlighted every physical attribute that made you weak. He was quite the distraction, but you were a professional. 

You smiled at your cousin and Bucky, who were beaming at you, and began.

“Sounds of Brazil isn’t just a club—it’s a melting pot of culture, rhythm, and history that’s been bringing global sounds to the city since 1982.”

You moved around the relatively small dark space, but then a screen came down on the stage and a slide show of performances danced across it, with accompanying music flowing from the speakers.

 “SOB’s started as a space to showcase Brazilian, Latin, Caribbean, and African music, and quickly became a go-to spot for hip-hop, R&B, and reggae too. The Afro-Caribbean Queen herself, Ms. Celia Cruz, as well as Marc Anthony, J Cole, HER and Mac Miller (rest his soul) have all rocked this stage.”

You were silent for a moment and then continued. 

“This place is more than music; it’s about community, culture, and the celebration of diverse sounds. For me, dance is life. And it’s music such as what was fostered here that inspires me. It’s places like this that give life to the creativity of my art and my soul.”

“The vibe here is immaculate. It’s intimate, electric, and always unpredictable. Just imagine the countless artists who’ve poured their souls into performances right on this stage.This isn’t just a club, it’s a meld of culture, rhythm, and history that’s been bringing global sounds to the city since 1982.”

The video and music turned to Celia Cruz’s “Toro Mata” and three beautiful women, who looked like showgirls, came from backstage.

“In February, Salsa Groove starts at SOB’s with free salsa lessons, happy hour, and many other fun things. These ladies are here to give us a preview, so find a partner and let’s dance!”

Sharon moved toward Steve, but Sam grabbed her and she plastered on a fake smile. You smiled over at your cousin who was currently in the process of being caught up in the arms of James Buchanan Barnes.

Activity swirled around you as the dance instructors organized groups to teach, but you and Steve were left in the center of the dance floor.

You smiled at him. 

“Looks like I get to teach you Mr. Rogers.”

“Lucky me. Hope your feet survive.”

His sexy chuckle did you in as you slid into his arms. You placed your arms in the right position, but shifted to help him adjust.

“Relax your shoulders,” you murmured, stepping closer and running your hand along his broad trapezius muscles. 

Your voice was warm and laced with patience as you looked into his eyes.

“Salsa isn’t just about the steps. It’s about how you feel the music.”

“I feel it,” replied Steve, swallowing as he watched your hips move effortlessly with the rhythm. You made it look easy, natural and beautiful. He, on the other hand, felt a little bit out of sync, out of breath, and out of his depth. 

You took his hand, lacing your fingers through his, your palms pressing together and conducting electricity. 

“Start with the basics,” you whispered, guiding him.

“One, two, three: back. Five, six, seven: forward.”

Steve looked down to catch the rhythm and you pulled his arm around you tighter, causing you two to meld even closer together.

“Don’t overthink it. Just listen to me.”

Steve nodded and looked into the kaleidoscope depths of your eyes. 

And he listened. 

He listened to the way your breath hitched as his hand slid to your waist. 

And he noticed. 

He noticed the way your eyes flickered to his lips when you moved together in sync, your bodies sinfully connected.

“That’s it,” you said, your voice lower now, “Now, feel me.”

You guided his hand to your lower back, and his fingers instinctively pulled you more firmly against him. This power from him made you high along with the way your body fit against his.

You moved in perfect harmony.

“Better,” you murmured as you watched his mouth again.

Steve was found himself smiling, his steps more fluid now, as if he’d been dancing with you forever. His confidence grew with each turn, each time your bodies came in contact. 

And when you finally spun into him, your palm resting against his chest, your breaths mingling in the space between you, he knew this wasn’t just a dance. 

It was his chance.

Steve was about to lean in to kiss you when a slow clap began, started by Sharon.

You both looked around, surprised there was anyone else there. The music had stopped.

“Great job, Mr. Rogers. You made that look convincing.”

Sharon’s voice grated on your nerves but you had to laugh at your cousin giving her the gas face. You just rolled your eyes. Not even she could bring you down at the moment.

“SOB’s opened early just for us, we have another hour to dance and have fun. I’d love to talk more if you all are inspired. Have fun!”

Steve stood back and admired you, his creative queen, as the others swarmed around you.

—-

The way you moved made Steve Rogers feverish. 

The sway of your hips hypnotized him and he had to concentrate very much to appear unbothered. The smell of you made his cock thicken and gotdamn, when you laughed his stomach did flips.

He’d pay a million dollars to the first person who convinced you to kiss him. 

He’d pay you ten million for each kiss you’d give him willingly.

Steve was down bad.

The nail in his coffin was your creativity and bravery; the way you shared your opinions on your art and everything else made him mad with desire.

He now fully understood Bucky’s insistence to get fully clean. Steve was glad they were so close to the finish line and was willing to beat Bucky there. 

Steve was determined to be the good man you once thought he was.

—---

Over the next couple of days, your heart raced each time you watched Steve across whatever rooms you were in. His six foot plus form dominated every space and his natural affinity for art was so fucking appealing.

You finally admitted to yourself that you were feeling him, although the issue of whether you could trust him would not die. But when he looked at you with those baby blues, you got weak. There was definitely a connection and a chemistry that you couldn’t resist for much longer.

You couldn’t deny it any more.

But that didn’t stop you from trying.

—--

Sharon would not stop talking. You were unfortunate enough to sit near her on the Sprinter as it took you back to the hotel for the mid-day break on Wednesday. She was going on about her meeting with Steve to Lily from Montana.

Each recipient had meetings scheduled with Sam, Steve, Bucky and Natasha, another requirement of the week. Frequently, the meetings included a meal. It must have been a dizzying pace for them, but you’d really enjoyed your coffee with Sam and lunch with Natasha. They were cool people.

And of course your dinner with Bucky was amazing. You couldn’t wait for him to be your cousin, although he remained coy about proposing no matter how much you pressed him about the holiday trip.

“I mean my meeting with Steve was convenient this morning. He was right there and we were already in our comfortable clothing… the breakfast place was perfect…”

Your ears perked up at that.

“I just woke up so sore this morning. It’s all Steve’s fault…and then he had the nerve to do it again…”

Your mind filled in the gaps and your blood started to boil. 

This must be why he hadn’t been around that morning. He was recovering from fucking with Sharon. Rational thought was out the window and you couldn’t see anything but red.

Instead of going up to your room to rest, you walked the four blocks to the Rebirth building. 

Your spine was straight and your chin was up as you entered the gallery, passed Natasha and headed to Steve’s office. He came to stand at the door as you approached, obviously warned that you were coming. He was in shirtsleeves, his black button-down clinging to his muscular frame, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms. 

You blinked because he looked dangerously, devastatingly handsome in a way that was almost too much to look at directly. His mesmerizing blue eyes locked with yours, and the rest of the world disappeared. For a moment, you were frozen, ready to fuck him or spring into battle.

Just then, Bucky Barnes bounded out of a door near Steve’s, looking like a black lab, and headed in the same direction you were.

“Yo, Steve. I think that we should… oh shit! Peach!”

You couldn’t help but smile at Bucky, who looked cute in a black pullover with his curly hair tousled. Over Thanksgiving weekend, you’d grown to like him a lot. 

Bucky Barnes obviously loved his friends. He also was a good guy, despite his line of work. The way he loved your cousin had earned your respect.

You smiled and held your hand out for him to shake.

“Hullo Bunny… eep!”

He pulled you toward him, drawing you into a hug and twirling you out into a salsa spin, causing you to laugh. 

“It’s Bucky, Mr. Barnes if you’re nasty!”

You were shaking with laughter.

“Oh gawd! Does my cousin know that you are so corny?”

Bucky had mellowed your harsh.

Momentarily.

“It’s part of why she keeps coming back, Peach.”

Bucky winked at you and instantly you understood the appeal. You grinned up at Bucky, lightly slapping him on the arm as he laughed at you.

Someone cleared their throat and Bucky smirked over at Steve. Then, he caught the drift. 

“I can see that you have important business to attend to with this Punk. Catch you later.”

Suddenly you didn’t want to have this conversation, because the way Steve was looking at you was too intense. You didn’t move. You felt Bucky’s warm hands on your shoulders and you were compelled to move forward.

“Onward. Into the fray.”

You glared over your shoulder at Bucky and then looked back at Steve.

“Mr. Rogers.”

Steve’s jaw clenched and he greeted you in kind. 

“Ms. Y/LN. Is there something I can help you with?”

He walked into his office and you followed him, making sure to leave the door open. Steve's gaze slowly dragged down your body and back up again until it settled on your mouth. You felt that look like a physical touch, making your clothes feel irrelevant. You took a deep breath to keep from shedding them right there.

“Yes, Mr. Rogers. I need you to be honest with me.”

Normally, that was a throwaway comment, but Steve knew how important him being honest was to you, so he nodded, cleared his throat and said, “Of course,” while looking you in those beautiful eyes.

“Did you fuck Sharon Carter last night?”

Steve’s eyes widened in shock. He blinked a few times to digest your question. Then he answered it. Blood rushed in his head.  

I’m gonna kill the mutherfucker that said that, he thought. But he was calm when he replied.

“No. I was very much alone last night.” 

Missing you, he thought.

“Did you fuck her this morning?”

Steve put his file down on his desk and leaned back on it, crossing his arms.

“Absolutely not. She showed up at my gym, for the second day in a row. I helped her with some technique and then had our meeting in a coffee shop. Who is spreading this rumor that’s got you so worked up?”

He would find the fucking liar and strangle them to death.

“That bitch is going around insinuating to everyone…”

Then you realized what was going on. You closed your mouth. Sharon. 

That bitch. Why were you letting some hoe rag get to you?

“Never mind. You’re absolutely right. I don’t care.”

You raised your chin like the regal queen you were and Steve wanted to fall at your feet. 

“Well for your information, I’m not interested in Sharon Carter. As a matter of fact…”

All I want is you. 

Steve looked you in your eyes. God, you were so beautiful.

“I’m taken.” 

Your breath caught in your throat and a feeling in between panic and jealousy furled in your stomach at those words. As he looked at you, understanding dawned about what he meant. 

This conversation was not going the way you intended it to.

Your eyes moved to avoid Steve’s and it was then you noticed Bucky leaning on Steve’s door frame and snacking while he watched you two.

“Popcorn? Really Bucky???”

Bucky extended the bag to you. 

“‘SmartPop. Want some?”

Steve went over and closed the door in Bucky’s face and then turned back to you. You noticed how his bicep bulged when he ran his hand through his hair and your nipples tightened into stiff peaks.  

“Sorry to that woman.”

You played dumb, hoping he wouldn’t press the issue. But Steve clocked you. He shook his head and chuckled.

You crossed your arms and jutted your hip out. 

“What?...What, Steven!?”

You were the most adorable human he’d ever seen. 

“Nothing.”

You turned around to leave and then whirled around again.

“And another thing!”

Steve was smirking now. 

“You upgraded me on the airline and at the hotel. Didn’t you? And you gave me more endowment than anyone else. You’re just trying to get in my pants again.”

Steve sighed.

“Okay, so first I fucked Sharon, now I’m trying to get in your pants. You’re going from one extreme to another.”

“Tell me I’m wrong!”

Steve clenched his jaw, but his voice remained even. He really wanted to grab you and spread you over his desk and give you his cock until you calmed down. But baby steps.

He stepped to you and you looking up at him was his Roman Empire.

“You. Are. Wrong.”

His glare was blue ice and you felt just a little bit afraid. 

And a lot turned on. 

“Do you realize that your cousin helped us out with travel and accommodations?”

You opened your mouth and then closed it.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“And you didn’t get more than anyone else. Russ received $250,000. Awards were scaled according to the project.”

“Ah.”

“And I don’t just want to get in your pants. I want so much more.”

You stood there dumbfounded.

“W-what are you talking about?”

Steve gave you a rueful smile.

“Stop pretending you don’t know. Peach, I–”

You raised your hand to signal stop.

“Ain't nobody got time for this.”

He gazed at you with a sparkle in his eye and licked those red, red lips. But he put his hands up and backed away, still smiling.

“Also. Stop doing that!”

You waved your hand in the direction of this face. You needed him to stop looking at you like that.

He was trying to hold himself back. Your lunacy had him hard. And you not letting him tell you how he felt made him want to make you beg for him. He shook his head to clear his lust.

“Just what am I doing to you, Ms. YLN?”

That voice again. Your eyes shuttered and your pussy pulsed at the answer to that question, but you were determined to get him told.

“Sparkling those eyes down at me like that!”

“Sparkling my eyes…?”

Steve feigned annoyance, but he was enjoying the fuck out of this. 

“What does that even mean?”

“You know exactly what it means! Looking at me like.. Like.. like you…Just. Stop.”

He stopped smiling. 

“As you wish.”

Steve’s eyes roamed over your face, pausing to look at your lips. Then, he looked back up into your eyes and the sparkle was gone. It was replaced by a warm blue fire that for some reason caused you to shiver. You wanted to fall into it and his arms, but you shook yourself out of it.

“Nope. Don’t do that either.”

Steve huffed as the corner of his mouth hooked upward into a sexy side grin. Your panties couldn’t take it.

“Do wh–? Umph. Ummhmmhhmm!”

You put your hand over Steve’s mouth to stop him from assaulting you with his voice but he kept vocalizing. You realized that Steve’s hand was on your waist and was pulling you closer to him. 

Your breasts were pressed up against his rock hard torso and your hand was on his chest. Lord help you, all you needed to do was remove your hand. You stared into those blue depths for half a second and then moved back.

Steve licked his lips when your hand was gone and your body buzzed as he contemplated pulling you back into his arms.

When that look came into his eyes, you gave up. 

“Ugh. Never mind. I’ve got to go.”

You straightened your spine again, turned on your heel and marched toward the door. 

Steve followed you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw that Bucky was pumping his fist as you made to leave the building. You thought about giving him a piece of your mind, but you had to get out of there; Steve was close behind.

“Peach. Stop running. Calm down.”

You stopped and whirled on him, poking your finger in his chest.

“NEVER tell a mad woman to calm down, Rogers.”

He smiled down at you and your world spun out.

“So you admit that you’re crazy?”

“Fuck you!”

You turned and walked toward your hotel at a steady pace but Steve was right behind you. He followed you back to your hotel lobby and was right there when you pressed the elevator button. 

“What do you want, Steve?”

You sideyed him as you looked up at the floor indicator panel.

“You.”

You whipped your head around as the elevator doors opened. Your heart was beating so fast you were sure he could hear it. But then you just  wordlessly walked into the elevator as Steve followed closely.

“You feel this thing between us, Peach. I’m not alone in this. I know I’m not.” 

He moved close to you as the elevator doors closed, placing one arm on the wall near your head and the other on the railing beside you. You were enveloped in him. But when you looked up at him. Jesus.

“You wish. You think you’re god’s gift to women, Rogers?”

Your whisper was fervent.Your heart was beating out of your chest and your cunt was soaking wet. The electricity was arcing between you in the small space. You felt it in the small of your back. 

“Judging by the way you look at me, Peach. I’d say you wish, too.”

You shifted, trying to rub your legs together on the low. There was an ache you needed extinguished.

“Boy, please...”

You were still trying to fight it as Steve moved close, his lips a breath from your ear.

“Not all women. Just you. And you don’t need to beg. Just ask for what you want, Peach.”

He pulled back and you almost chased him, but bit your lip and tried to remain calm.

“I don’t want anything from you, Steven.”

“Now, you’re the liar.” Steve intoned, his jaw working tightly.

When the elevator door opened, you ran out, moving quickly down the hallway to your room. You stood in front of your door and stared at Steve, not opening the door and not speaking.

He looked down the hallway and spoke, anger laced in his tone. 

“Open the fucking door and get your sweet ass in that room, Peach.”

You tried to stare him down, but he was determined. And something in those blue eyes made you want to comply.

“I’m not going to repeat myself.”

Your hands shook as you opened your door with Steve breathing down your neck, reminiscent of that night in Atlanta. 

Once the door was closed, he stalked toward you, tipping up your chin to meet his intense gaze. His thumb brushed your bottom lip and you suppressed a shudder. 

No one had ever made you feel this way with just a touch. 

“What do you want from me?” 

Your voice was barely a whisper. 

Steve leaned in close to reply, his breath fanning your face.

“Stop fucking running from me. I apologize for all the things I’ve done. But now I’m underwater and I’m drowning in my feelings for you.”

Your resistance were just bare thread now. And the last ones frayed into nothing at his proximity.

“Prove it,” you said as you met his gaze. 

Steve’s eyes glinted with something you couldn’t read, and his hand moved to your waist. 

“Careful now, Peach,” he murmured and bent his head, still not quite kissing you, but driving you crazy.

“You don’t scare me,” you whispered. 

“No?” 

His hand was on your back now, moving you impossibly closer. 

“I think that I do. I think the feelings you have for me terrify you.” 

His lush lips crashed down on yours, and you were completely lost to the way he devoured you, all heat and hunger and lust. Your tongues tangled and danced, and you moaned into his mouth. 

Steve broke away to nip down your jaw. 

“Taste so fucking sweet, Peach. ‘S all I could think about this past month.” 

His hands slid down your body to palm your ass, pulling you close and making you feel how hard he was for you. Damn he was big. He was right, you’d probably struggle to take him, but god you wanted to try right now.

Slowly, Steve lowered his head again, watching you intently as his lips capture yours. The kiss started off slow and delicious, then it deepened, growing more passionate, more demanding. Your fingers tangled in his thick hair, pulling him closer. And when you came up for air, you were both breathing hard. He leaned his forehead on yours.

“I want every single part of you, Peach,” he said roughly. “Not just your body.”

Your heart swelled. There was no more holding back now. 

“D’you think you can… can you think about trusting me with your heart?”

You hesitated and he knew he needed to get you not to get back in your head. He settled into the large couch and pulled you into his lap. His hands on your body was like nothing else. 

“You feel fucking amazing.”

Before he knew it, Steve wrapped a hand around your neck and pulled you down to his mouth. He nipped at your lower lip, then soothed the tender flesh with his tongue, leaving you a trembling mess.

He lifted his hand and ran a finger down the side of your neck; the touch was light but somehow burned. 

“Tell me you don’t think about being mine?”

You only whimper in answer, your stubbornness still in control.

He shook his head as he leaned down and followed the trail of his finger with his lips.

It felt so good that you tilted your head to the side with a soft sigh, giving him better access. Steve took full advantage, trailing kisses back up to the sensitive spot behind your ear that made you shiver.

“Fuck, Steve.”

You hooked your leg around his waist and rolled your hips against his like he was a pole. You arched your back and attempted to ride him to get some satisfaction to your core, which was 

aching and weeping.

“No. We’re not gonna fuck. Not until you tell me you’re mine. But we can play.”

He arched a dark blonde eyebrow as he kissed down your cleavage and  one big hand cupped your breast over your shirt and the other reached down to slip inside your panties. 

“You wanna play, Peach? You’re absolutely soaked Sweetheart. Want me to make you feel good?”

It was his one mission in life, and he could do it all day, bring you pleasure.

You pouted up at him, but you couldn’t resist. This high was too addictive.

“Yes, Stevie. Please. Make me feel good.” 

He growled lowly when you arched into his touch. You felt the hard length of him pressing against your core, and you reached down to palm him through his pants. 

“Fuck. You’re gonna be the death of me.”

Suddenly, your bra was pulled down and his mouth was closing over your nipple, sucking and teasing. He moved lower, getting on his knees beside the couch.

He stopped manhandling you long enough to unbutton his shirt and damn, did you pay attention. 

You bit your finger as those muscular shoulders and biceps and chest came into view. Your eyes followed the happy trail that flowed down his six pack and damn the bugle in his pants was big.

That shocked look on your face when you met his eyes again was so hot that Steve wanted to fucking ruin you, but he decided have settle for just tasting you.

“Don’t want you to get my shirt wet, Sweetheart.”

He winked and then reached underneath your skirt to find your panties.

You scrambled up on your hands and scoffed.

“It’s like that?”

Steve grabbed your thighs and pulled them apart, making your skirt ride up.

You leaned back and smiled as he winked and nodded.

He hiked your legs over his shoulders and a second later, his mouth was between them, his tongue teasing the skin near where you really wanted him to be. 

You grabbed his hair and ground against his face, already desperate for more. And when he licked straight through the center of you, a scream started in your throat but you stifled it, looking down to see Steve’s eyes twinkle up at you. 

He kept you pinned against the couch, gripping your hips with those big, strong hands and holding you in place. His tongue traveled up and down your slit, between your folds, and slid inside your wet cunt.

Your entire body trembled as his tongue toyed with your clit. You felt his smile as he started circling his tongue around the small bundle of nerves.

“Fuck! Give me more!”

Your eyes rolled as two of his long thick fingers entered you and scissored before quickly finding the pile of sensitive flesh inside you. He massaged it and at the same time leaned down to suck your clit into his mouth. It was at that point that your orgasm hit you like a wave.

“Steveeeee! Godddd!” 

You screamed as your pussy simultaneously clenched and squirted fluid into Steve’s waiting mouth. Your vision went white, and all the air was sucked out of the room. 

Slowly, your surroundings came back into focus. Steve kissed the inside of your thigh, then stood up, watching you with an intensity that made your heart stutter in your chest.

“The way you scream my name makes a man wanna buy you jewels Peach.”

His beard was wet and his voice was raspy, but you reached for him and he leaned down to kiss you, letting you taste your essence on his tongue.

Then, he pulled away and found your bathroom. You stared at the ceiling as the water ran and you assumed he was cleaning up. He returned with his shirt on and a warm towel to help you clean up.

He watched as you shed your clothes, sensuality on display only for him. You reached for his pants and he grabbed your wrists, shaking his head.

“Like I said. That was fun. But you’ve got to make a decision, Peach. Do you want me like I want you?”

The words were right there in your throat, but they refused to come out.

You just stared at him.

Steve smiled at you ruefully.

“Okay. It’s all right. I’m not giving up. Just giving you space.”

He handed you the fluffy white robe that was in the bathroom and you put it on to follow him to the door of your suite.

“See you tomorrow after the Summit for our meeting.”

He kissed you goodbye on the cheek and the dance you and Steve Rogers did continued as you watched him walk away from you.

——-

Hope you liked it! Interaction gives me lifeeeeee! Read, comment, reblog, like. TIA 🥰

[sepptember]

there's a post about Pro-Palestine small businesses on instagram by @.counseling4allseasons and i wanted to share that post here.

mentioning businesses that aren't on this post are encouraged!! I'll reblog them to my account or add them to the post. If any of the links don’t work, please let me know.

note that all of the businesses in the insta post might not be included because I struggled to find the link, and some links may lead to an instagram account instead of a website.

Apparel:

Chérine Caftans - Moroccan traditional wear

Hirbawi - Kufiya factory in Palestine

HULM Kicks - Palestinian-owned shoe store

Watan Worldwide - Cultural clothing/merchandise store

Ayan Resources - Palestinian-owned clothing brand

herababyco - Baby clothes

Modestveencouture - Palestinian-owned boutique with wedding, prom, and engagement dresses

Zaytoonas Stitches - Palestinian-owned embroidery store

Dignitii - modest active wear

Nöl Collective - Palestinian-owned traditional wear

RUUQ - Hijab body suits

Dar Collective - Cultural merchandise

Shopdehma - Modest clothing brand

Nayabhijabs - Hijabs

House of amiri - Children's clothing

this business is currently not stocking their inventory because they are working on broadening their brand. support by following them is still highly encouraged.

Yemen Wear - cultural Yemen apparel

Pali Power - Palestinian athletic apparel

Le dressing de moon - Palestinian thobes

La Farrah Boutique - Palestinian thobes

Skincare/Makeup/Fragrances:

Farsalicare - Skincare brand

Yaskinnatural - Skincare brand

Dyfbeauty - Makeup brushes

Mora Cosmetics - Muslim-owned clean makeup

Kadi perfumes - high-quality perfumes and fragrances

Alwafa Shop - Natural skincare

Abumiskperfumes - oil-based fragrances

Dr. Sebaa Co. - Muslim-owned skincare brand

Savana Goat - Natural and artisanal goat soaps

Lerenu - Scalp & haircare

Inika Organics - Organic makeup

Tuesday in Love - Wudhu-friendly nail polish

Home Goods:

Inspire me home decor - Interior design/home decor

The Little Bulbul - Islamic puzzles/mugs/prints

Olive & Heart - Palestinian owned candle shop

Candlescape & Co. - Palestinian owned candle shop

Create & Crescent - event kits and crafts

Kilim Design Store - carpet and flooring.

With a Spin - Home decor

Lifestyle:

Feyre Creations - events merchandise

Khair Designs - Interior design

Soul Detox - Palestinian-owned black seed oil mix and health capsules

Sophologynic - Palestinian-owned wellness-kits and organic honey

Creations By Sal - Custom wedding products and gifts

Crescent Moon Bookstore - Palestinian-owned children’s bookstore

Little Muslim Craft Store - Crafts for Muslim children store

Modefa - Home decor

Sitti soap - Natural soaps and more.

Vidamin Wellness - Organic vitamins

Mysalah Mat - Interactive prayer mat

The Happy Bakers - Egyptian-owned cookies

Little Busy Hands - Customized themed sensory bins

Shahrin Azim Henna & Jagua Artist - Henna Services, New York/NJ

Accessories:

Oroboros Watches - Egyptian-owned watch store

Kiro - Egyptian Jewelry Brand

Elegant Bijoux Jewelry - Lebanese-owned jewelry

Canava Handmade - Luxury Arab handbags States NYC

Deeya Jewellery - Luxury gold plated bridal/formal jewelry

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Walter Einenkel at Daily Kos:

Donald Trump's disastrously racist rally at New York City’s Madison Square Garden on Sunday was epitomized by Tony Hinchcliffe’s hack bigotry. The Joe Rogan-cultivated comedian called Puerto Rico a "floating island of garbage" and labored through a 12-minute set filled with “jokes” about Latinos and Black people.

Because Hinchcliffe’s litany of tasteless insults kicked off a rally for the Republican Party’s presidential nominee, his racist patter received backlash from all corners of the political world and beyond, including Puerto Rican reggaeton superstar Bad Bunny, who endorsed Vice President Kamala Harris shortly after Hinchcliffe’s set was done. (The rapper has 45.6 million followers on Instagram alone, for anyone keeping count). However, it turns out that the disaster could have been an even bigger calamity. According to The Bulwark’s Marc A. Caputo, the Trump campaign identified one “red flag” in the comedian’s set that was nixed before the event.  “He had a joke calling [Vice President Kamala] Harris a ‘cunt,’” a “campaign insider” told Caputo. That’s some real comedic genius.

The blowback has been so intense that Trump’s campaign, known for never apologizing about anything, has distanced itself from that one joke about Puerto Rico. Of course they haven’t denounced Hinchcliffe claiming Latinos have more unprotected sex and babies than others, and that Black people carve watermelons instead of pumpkins at Halloween. “It’s a joke. People need to grow up,” one Trump adviser told The Bulwark, defending the gross racism. “This is what we’re campaigning against: PC culture run amok.”

Tony Hinchcliffe’s bigoted speech at the MSG hatefest Sunday targeted Blacks, Puerto Ricans, and Palestinians disguised as “jokes.”

However, even the heinously sexist Trump campaign thought Hinchcliffe’s planned use of the word “c**t” to describe Kamala Harris was beyond the pale, thus it was axed.

[transgenderer]

i was wondering bc discussions of 'culture' is in vogue rn, my understanding is u ID as white while being 1/8 black, how do ur parent + grandparent with black ancestry ID? do you think your ancestry has an effect on your ~culture~, or what about ur parent or grandparent?

so my dad (1/4) is like. kinda weird about it? he's like, everything-passing. had a no war with iran sticker and got asked if he was iranian, went to mexico, spoke some bad spanish, got the native discount, etc. when i was a kid he would insist i check off both "white" and "african american" if a survey allowed both options. so i think he does the same. in college he was invited to a university event for black students so he came and arthur ashe (the tennis guy) told him he didnt belong there). anyway uh. i think he feels kind of weird about it? but the area i grew up in is pretty multiracial (altho not very black) so "mix of various ethnicities" is like one of the default types of guy there, and he grew up in NYC. my mom was once asked about her experience being in an interracial relationship and she was confused and didnt know how to respond

anyway my grandpa i think IDs much more with "immigrant"+"jamaican" than with black. i mean. he looks like your run of the mill american black guy. but he has a jamaican accent, and has lived in nyc his whole time in america so yknow, immigrant is a significant social role there. also there allegedly (according to my dad, i have not been able to verify this and have tried) a thing in jamaica where the children of slaves and slaveowners could inherit from their father so it was significant if you had white ancestry, like you were a lot richer. my grandpa didnt know his father but also owned like a plot of land+house in jamaica (he sold it when i was a kid, only visited once or twice), not sure whats going on there. he grew up in the middle of nowhere highland jamaica. weird guy. married a british lady (he was there for school?) and moved to the US

anyway im not sure i received much like jamaican culture from either of them except my grandpa would make (or actually i think my english grandma would make it) jamaican food and then i would get autistic about the texture except breadfruit which i love. weird jamaican stories. to the extent that it feels like ive recieved like a cultural influence from either of them its a bit of nyc culture (certain type of argumentative)

[bread--quest]

more details about them are under the cut in case one of them sounds familiar and you want to doublecheck. if you know what the 8th one is please tell me

mr. revere and i: book narrated from the pov of paul revere's horse. she was formerly a british horse but through some amount of shenanigans was given to paul revere instead. she had an entire arc about unlearning her loyalty to england and choosing to side with the americans that was extremely compelling to young me

all-of-a-kind family: jewish sisters on the lower east side in turn of the century new york. i read so many books with that premise but these were my favorites. uhh there were 5 of them, oldest was ella and then i think hattie and then sarah, charlotte, and gertie. it was a series and later there was a little brother who had to get his name changed because he fell down a manhole (long story). they went to the library and coney island and ate soup and did jewish holidays. probably at least 15% responsible for my fixation on nyc. they were everything to me.

the year of the dog: book about an asian-american girl growing up. her name is pacy and she likes to draw. has a lot of conflicted feelings about being american vs. being part of her family's culture which i related a lot to for reasons that i'm sure you can guess

cobble street cousins: 3 cousins growing up on a street?? actually it was two sisters (lily and rosie) and their cousin tess. they had a cool aunt who was dating a botanist. tess was a broadway nerd. they had a cool attic hideaway. the books were excruciatingly cozy i love them

project mulberry: ANOTHER one about asian-american girls feeling conflicted about culture are you noticing a theme here. uhh a girl and her friend who collects state quarters do a science fair project raising silkworms and then trying to embroider something with them. they get help from a guy who has a mulberry tree and is black and her mom has to confront her inner racism. at one point the author talks to the main character in like the footnotes for some reason

the pushcart war: LOVE THIS ONE SO SO MUCH BTW EVERYONE SHOULD READ IT. uhh its new york in Very Slightly The Future. (it was like 1940s when this was written but the date gets changed with every reprint.) everything is the same but traffic is slightly worse. its supposed to read like an account of an actual historical event. pushcart peddlers get fed up with being literally pushed around by truck drivers and get organized. using pea shooters they make the trucks get flat tires so that everyone can see that they're the main problem of traffic. does a surprisingly good job going into all the ways seemingly small political action can have effects (newspaper articles, local government elections, other unions being affected, even trade with other nations). not exactly a union novel but basically a union novel (to this day i still think of a certain part of it whenever someone brings up union dues). basically radicalized kid me if we're being honest.

the fairy rebel: well it was either that or the rebel fairy can't remember. really weird one honestly. okay so a woman named jan hurts her leg and can't dance and also can't have kids and is like clinically depressed about it. weird beginning to a kids book but it gets weirder. a fairy shows up and makes friends with her and in exchange for jan teaching the fairy what jeans are the fairy makes a magic baby for jan. the baby has a streak of magic blue hair. there are also magic rose presents. the fairy queen is evil and has evil wasps and gives the kid an evil necklace and does some really fucked up stuff like nearly crush the kid under toys. it's okay eventually though i think

haunted doll one: okay so i read this at a campground once and it's probably the most genuinely obscure one on here but. a girl finds a doll and like. touches it? or picks it up or something? and somehow the doll transports her back in time to like a wagon chain exploring the west or whatever. and i think the doll is there in prairie times too. can't remember if the modern girl like possesses the original owner of the doll on the wagon chain or if she just gets prairie isekai'd but i think it's like a recurring event. also at some point someone gets bit by a snake and maybe dies. i don't remember how it ends but the general vibes of the thing terrified kid me So Much that it's haunted me ever since. if you remember this book please tell me

[destinyc1020]

think we are about talking about two different things. I wasnt speaking from the perspective about black creators, I understand the value of awards and I also understand the business of the industry and the systemic institutional anti blackness the runs rampant in the industry. I know why its imporant for them. I speaking from fans who decry at the this idea on where is the love for black films like earth mama or where is the attention ( when we know systemic racism is the reason why some of these black led/ directed films dont get the same attention. I just get the impression that sometimes we only see value in black films when they are talked about by film twitter, when they get awards or box office success. All im saying there is love for black films partucularly at feativals, criterion, musuems, film pereservationists Im saying black films can be loved in different ways and it doesnt need to have same attention of a greta gerwig film or an award nomination to value

A thousand and one literally the talk of sundance, the nyc library hosted an event featuring that movie which followed with a workshop on black story telling, they showed that film at a harlem cultural center, the shelter that I worked with held a special screening with av rockwell where she talked about this. All Im saying this movie in particularly is doing amazing on the local level despite the lack of nominations it has proven to be culturally siginificant film and doesnt need to be nominated for it not be valuable, that validation is nice but not necessary especially when black and poc filmmakers have been praising the film.

Im obvi not naive about how the funding works. Though even if nominations lead to funding and opportunities its still heavily circumscribed and undercut as hollywood only allows certian black stories to be told and told in very specific ways. Rustin being one example of depoliticizing on focusing a narrative that is still heavily sanitized and reductive. Black creators who were once freely able to tell certian stories in indie spaces can longer do that when hollywood gives them "opportunities" so I mean.

African filmmakers like sara maldalor, alice diop, sembane, nikaytu jusu ( who talked about the unease of working with a streamer like amazon) or african american director kathleen collins have expressed the farce of holywood and the illusion of opportunity when working within an anti black, pro military, pro imperial institution.

Oh okay, thanks Anon for clarifying what you meant 😊

[freshdotdaily]

As I recall, we recorded this at Converse Rubber Tracks in like 2013-2014 probably. I wanted to add more to it and get it mastered and crispier sounding. But as I listen back to it now, I like the gritty unfinished Lofi element it has to it, feels like a mixtape cut off an old DJ Clue tape.

As two enlightened black men from Brooklyn public housing who made it past 25 years of age to thrive and create art, there's much to celebrate with this track. I titled it "War Elephants" because Hannibal of Carthage crossed the Alps on Elephants and stomped on many an enemy head in war and this felt like that kinda proclamation.

He might hate this story, but the first time I saw exQuire rock, was at Bowery Poetry Club. His skinny jeans ripped that night mid-performance because mans was going HARD and rapping for his life on that tiny stage. It left an indelible mark on me. He gave me a copy of his mixtape on CD. The cover was a collage of all his influences, like comics, wrestling, rap, etc. I still have it.

The next time I seent duke was in Pathmark (RIP) on the late night and bruh was acting kinda suspicious so I figured he was shoplifting lol. He later told me he was just nervous. To meet me? I really am just a project baby from Fort Greene who be rapping so when anyone tells me they were geeked to meet me or my music had ANY impact on them, it throws me for a loop. But, I paid attention to brody because I knew what time he was on. Vibes don't lie and him (and SickSentz) were making moves around the city & country. This video is like from 2013. Crazy that's 10 years ago, right?

If you know him as an artist in the mid to post-blog era NYC rap scene, he quickly rose to rap prominence off a Mishka-assisted single that boasted one of the hardest remixes feat. the long-heralded return of indie rap OG EL-P. That rise included a record deal, a single with Gucci Mane, and a host of other things. During this time, I faded to the back to focus on myself and my event series brand. But despite where HIS lengthy accomplishments in music took him, whenever brody & I crossed paths, he always acknowledged my skill, my influence, and my accomplishments. I did a lot for the culture in my hometown to little or no recognition and definitely no pay or recompense. Especially when ppl blow up, they tend to forget all the ppl who they rocked w/ on their ascension. So when people who are doing good in this culture acknowledge ya boy, it holds weight, cuz a nigga was really outside giving many folks the blueprint before I faded to black (that's a Jiggaman reference right there lol). Peep my tiny cameo in this video at 5:01.

It's dope to be appreciated after dipping & returning. Shouts to BMB Spacekid who used to send me beat tape after beat tape and this one was on it. I played beats for eXquire and I skipped this one, but he asked me to run it back, and picked this one to my utter surprise. The rest is history.

Here's a flick of me, eX, MURS, and El-P

Feels right to let this one loose. Enjoy. Support if you can (it's $5) If you can't just share it. Thanks!

[ausetkmt]

As we celebrate Black Music Month and LGBT Pride Month, let us pay tribute to the pioneers and trailblazers who gifted the world with the infectious beats of house music. As house music is experiencing a resurgence in the mainstream, it's important to remember where house began -- decades ago in Black queer clubs. Over the years, house music continues to evolve, thrive, and inspire new generations, carrying on the legacy of its roots while pushing boundaries and breaking down barriers.

So, whether you're on a crowded dance floor, grooving in your living room, or listening on your phone, take a moment to appreciate the magic of house, a testament to the enduring spirit of Black musical innovation and a soundtrack for liberation, love, and unity.

DJ MikeQDJ MikeQ was immersed in the ballroom scene in NYC's tri-state area, where vogueing and ballroom battles took center stage. The Newark, New Jersey native DJ'ed at various ballroom events and clubs, eventually becoming the main DJ for HBO Max's hit series Legendary. MikeQ became one of the first house DJs on a major television series. In addition to his DJing prowess, MikeQ founded Qween Beat Productions, a record label that released music rooted in ballroom and vogue culture. No one slays a beat like DJ MikeQ and the people who came before him -- like DJ Frankie Knuckles and DJ Larry Levan -- would certainly be proud. Listen to a MikeQ set from 2022 above.

DJ Paulie PaulPhilly's own DJ Paulie Paul has been spinning for over three decades -- he is the sound of house in the City of Brotherly Love. Originally from North Philly, Paul developed a cult following as a DJ at the legendary Nile house club in the 1990s, including the late-great DJ Donald Stone and another music master gone too soon, DJ George. Known for his seamless mixing and ability to respond to the crowd's energy, Paul crafts unforgettable experiences on the dance floor. From vogue beats to tribal rhythms, if you are in Philadelphia, be sure to catch a DJ Paulie Paul set. In the meantime, listen above. 

DJ Larry LevanIn the 1970s and 1980s, DJ Larry Levan's residency at the Paradise Garage, a legendary nightclub in Manhattan, became an iconic hub for house music enthusiasts. Levan's musical sensibilities extended beyond the DJ booth. He was also an accomplished producer, remixing tracks for artists such as Grace Jones, Inner Life, and Gwen Guthrie, infusing their music with his distinctive touch. Larry Levan's impact on the house music genre cannot be overstated. Though he left this world in 1992 at only 38 years old, his legacy is forever etched in the annals of dance music history. Listen to a vintage mix from 1979.

DJ Ron HardyDJ Ron Hardy is a true pioneer of the Chicago house sound. His distinct style, unyielding passion for music, allowed him to connect to house heads and shape the evolution of house music worldwide. Ron Hardy's name remains synonymous with  the relentless pursuit of sonic exploration that defines the spirit of house music. He passed away in 1992 at 33 years old. Listen to a classic mix from 1986 above.

DJ Frankie KnucklesBorn in 1959, the pioneering DJ began his career spinning soul, disco, and R&B music at clubs in New York City. He relocated to Chicago and was soon coined the Godfather of House.  In 1997, Frankie Knuckles won a Grammy in the Remixer of the Year, Non-Classical category, and in 2004 a street in Chicago was renamed Frankie Knuckles Way. The following year, Knuckles was inducted into the Dance Music Hall of Fame. He passed away in 2014 at 59 years old but his legacy in house music is immortal. Knuckles mastered the resilience, creativity, and cultural significance that this genre represents. Listen to his set from  2013 above. Happy Pride and happy Black Music Month!

[queerbrownvegan]

NYC folx, I'm hosting an event on Thursday Sept 21st. Free food and drinks, music from Gaia Quartet, and panels with Willow Defebaugh from Atmos, Wawa Gatheru of Black Girl Environmentalist and Sophie Strand author of The Madonna Secret!

Our event series, Symbiocene, is our chance to celebrate the role of joy, art, culture and community on our journey to collective liberation + a regenerative future.

Get your tickets here 🪴

[longlistshort]

Renée Stout’s exhibition at Marc Straus in NYC, Navigating the Abyss, presents a collection of her recent work in various mediums. From sculpture and painting to photography, her skillful and inventive work draws you in.

From the press release-

Starting out as a photo-realist painter depicting life in everyday urban neighborhoods, Stout soon developed an interest in the mystical and spiritual traditions in African American communities. Fascinated with fortunetelling and the healing power of Hoodoo, Vodou and Santeria still practiced within the African Diaspora in the American Southeast and Caribbean, she delved into ancient spiritual traditions and belief systems. She has drawn inspiration from a wide variety of sources such as current social and political events, Western art history, the culture of African Diaspora, and daily city life. While her artistic practice is rich with references and resonances, her works are eventually unique manifestations of her own imagination, populated by mysterious narratives and imagined characters derived from the artist’s alter ego.

In this exhibition, we encounter a group of portraits depicting Hoodoo Assassins and Agents (#213 and #214) who, in Stout’s imagination, are healers, seers, and empaths from a Parallel Universe in which fairness and balance rules. Erzulie Yeux Rouge (Red Eyes) is a spirit from the Haitian Pantheon of spirits whose empathic nature makes her a fierce guardian or protector of women, children, and betrayed lovers. Ikengas, originating in the Igbo culture of Southeastern Nigeria, are shrine figures that are meant to store the owner’s chi (personal god), his ndichie (ancestors) and his ike (power), and are generally associated with men. Stout’s Ikenga (If You Come for the Queen, You Better Not Miss) is a powerful female figure with her breasts and horns turned into weapons, and she is adorned with jewels and charms to boost her powers. Beyond the playful yet powerful imagination of these female characters are serious undertones of political commentary as Stout ponders the concepts of these deities while witnessing the recent rulings in our society that infringe on women’s rights.

In Escape Plan D (With Hi John Root, Connecting the Dots) Stout maps out her potential escape to the Parallel Universe when the daily news weighs unbearably on her psyche.

Visions of the Fall, in Thumbnails is a series of five small paintings that comments on the current state of our world and its imagined future with the titles as upcoming stages of its evolution.

American Memory Jar is an entirely black sculpture consisting of a glass jar covered with thin-set mortar, plastic and metal toy guns, topped with a doll head and adorned with a bead and rhinestone cross pendant. Memory Jugs are an American folk-art form that memorializes the dead adorned with objects associated with the deceased. Stout’s jar is a bitter but painfully accurate assessment.

While Stout’s work alludes to history, racial stereotyping, societal decay, and a set of alarming tendencies in our socio-political structures and ecosystem, it also reveals possibilities and the promise of healing. Various works reference healing herbs, potions, and dreams. Herb List, Spell Diagram and The Magic I Manifest speak of Stout’s belief in the power of consciousness, in the existence of more solid and fertile grounds, and of individual responsibility.

There is one overarching narrative that clearly emerges from Stout’s work – her personal history and spiritual journey as a woman and as an artist.

This exhibition closes 3/5/23.

[howhow326]

Computer was beating my behind today

The Raptor: Full body design

Yay, I finnaly drew my ml oc after two fan fics of vauge descriptions that contradict each other because I couldn't think of an outfit. And yes, drawing hands killed me. Yes, he is barefoot in the first picture and I didn't draw feet because I didn't want to die again.

Timothy Césaire's backstory (again):

Alya's cousin from New York City, Timothy Césaire used to be a normal, not so mild-manner middle school student who's only concern was getting good grades and dealing with bullies. But his life would change permanently after getting an intership at Hill incorporated; the cover for Majestia's laboratory. As fate would have it, Timothy's job for his first day to observe a resurrected, radioactive Velociraptor. However, one of the scientists left it's cage open on accident, which lead to the creature escaping it's enclosure and biting Timothy. Eventually, Timothy realized that the event had given him a superpower, the ability to move so fast that the world around him slowed down. This motivated him to create the persona of The Raptor, a new super hero who would help the helpless. At first, the United Heroez tolerated his presence and even encouraged him to join him. But everything changed when the Raptor stole from Audrey Bourgeois; He left a calling card in her house that claimed she had stolen designs from unpaid interns and that he would make her pay. Even with all the money and power in NYC, Audrey was powerless to stop the Raptor from stealing thousands of dollars worth in money... and secretly giving it to the poor. From that point onward, The Raptor was officially known as as a super villain. But it wasn't the end for Timothy. Its just the begginng of the end for the powerful in New York.

Wanna know some fun facts about Tim?

Design backstory

I'll start with Tim's civilian outfit, it's just a color swapped version of Alya's outfit.

Now that that's out of the way:

My original idea (that I never drew) of the Raptor's design was going to be something like tuxedo mask with a hoodie and long feathers on his arms instead of a cape.

Then Argos stole his look

So when I wrote Funk Up The Night, I thought up a different outfit that would look waaay different from Felix; something like what a Victorian era working class person would wear to contrast Timothy from the 2(+ Felix) super villains dressed like aristocrats. The design would have baggy clothing with a newsboys hat instead of a hood and a tattered blue neck tie that would be like the main attention grabber of the design.

I ended up keeping the the neck tie part for this one, but I swapped the cap out for a visor (that can go through Timothy's hair without destroying it lol)

Anyway, I wanted to do base this design off of something from Martinican culture as I headcanon Alya (& Tim) as being born from there and moving to France (/U.S.).

It was there that I encountered the Neg Gwo Siwo, a Martinican carnival character covered in black that's a symbol of rebellion against oppression.

What a coincidence that I already imagined Timothy as having a mostly dark design!

So I used dark blue skin to blend in with Tim's black clothes (actually a really dark shade of green).

I added some gold bands with hints of red and green

And done!

I made a good design with bad anatomy because I don't understand arms lol

[djinnewyorkcity]

New York City has long been a cultural melting pot, brimming with diversity and creativity. Among its vibrant communities, Black-owned businesses have played a significant role in shaping the city’s identity, contributing to its rich history of entrepreneurship. One such standout is DJ Zeke, a well-known DJ whose talent, business acumen, and connection to his audience have made him a force in the New York entertainment scene.

Who is DJ Zeke?

DJ Zeke is a powerhouse of energy and charisma. A native New Yorker, Zeke’s musical prowess spans genres, bringing life to events ranging from corporate functions and weddings to nightclubs and private parties. His ability to engage audiences with his seamless mixes and intuitive song choices has earned him a reputation as one of New York’s most sought-after DJs.

DJ Zeke’s skills go beyond his ability to play great DJ music. He has a unique gift for reading the crowd, ensuring that each event he plays is tailor-made for the audience in attendance. Whether he’s spinning the latest hip-hop hits, grooving or setting the mood with house music, DJ Zeke knows how to keep people on the dance floor.

Building a Black-Owned Business in NYC

DJ Zeke isn’t just a DJ, he’s a businessman. Over the years, he has built a brand that not only focuses on delivering high-quality entertainment but also emphasizes professionalism and reliability. In a city like New York, where competition is fierce, DJ Zeke’s commitment to excellence has helped him stand out from the crowd.

His entrepreneurial journey represents the broader experience of Black-owned businesses in New York, which often face unique challenges, including access to funding and opportunities. Zeke’s success serves as an inspiration, highlighting the importance of perseverance, community support, and maintaining a commitment to quality in business.

A Commitment to Community

One of the aspects that set DJ Zeke apart from many others in the entertainment industry is his deep connection to his community. He is known for supporting local causes, attending community events, and using his platform to elevate other Black-owned businesses. His work is a testament to the idea that entrepreneurship is not just about personal success but about giving back and uplifting others.

By fostering a sense of unity and celebration, DJ Zeke’s influence goes beyond music. He represents a thriving Black business community that continues to expand and redefine what it means to be successful in New York.

Supporting Black-Owned Businesses

In a city like New York, where culture and diversity are at the heart of its identity, the success of Black-owned businesses like DJ Zeke’s enhances the city’s vibrancy, proving that diversity fuels creativity and progress.

Event Production Companies

DJ Zeke has also made a name for himself by collaborating with top-tier event production companies in New York. By working closely with event planners and production teams, he ensures a seamless experience that aligns with the vision of every event.

Taking Events Virtual

In recent years, especially during the pandemic, DJ Zeke has adapted to the changing landscape of the entertainment industry by incorporating virtual events into his services. Virtual events have become a new norm, allowing people to connect and celebrate while adhering to safety protocols. DJ Zeke has skillfully transitioned his electrifying performances to virtual platforms, bringing the party to people’s homes through live streaming and curated online experiences.

[randomvarious]

Today's mix:

N.Y.C. Underground Party, Volume 4 by Louie DeVito 2001 Hard House / Progressive House / Hard Trance / Trance / Tribal House / Progressive Trance

Such interesting times that people were living in when New York's hottest party DJ at the time, Louie DeVito, could get away with putting out mixes that had album art that looked this shitty 😂. I mean, the guy had his very own mixshow on commercial FM radio, played at numerous exclusive swanky events for the socialites, and his own NYC Underground Party series ended up clearing a million sold too. But I guess there was like a New York workingman diy Kinko's hustle kinda charm to it all, which he indeed did end up earning himself, having started out as a construction worker with a DJ side gig, before unexpectedly and suddenly ascending into high-flying status as a full-time DJ 📈 .

And I'm not going to say outright that Louie is bad at his craft, but I fucking HATED nearly every second of this fourth volume in this highly popular series of his. This is just so entirely emblematic of the utterly mindless big club room stuff that was striving to make commercial headway at the turn of the millennium, but could only mostly find its niche success on the Billboard dance charts instead; essentially, it was dance music that was underground in name only, because it had tons and tons of dumb and glitzy commercial appeal with its big and blaring and honking lead melodies, but Americans, thankfully, were just not that smitten by it...yet.

See, this was more or less a harbinger of what was to come: all this mixing of big room genres like hard house, progressive house, tribal house, trance, and progressive trance, etc., is what ended up giving way to EDM, which really started to make pop music its bitch between the late 2000s and early 2010s, when David Guetta revolutionized everything for the worse with his monumental team-up with the Black Eyed Peas 😒.

Like, before Guido culture really became a big, cultural American phenomenon, the type of stuff that Louie DeVito was spinning here is what was passing for dance music for a lot of people. It all fits on the same specific timeline to me. And Louie may've loved it, and he may've been good at mixing it too, but all of it feels so artless, formulaic, ingenuine, cheesy, classless, soulless, and transactionally cheap.

And I really don't mean to sound all snooty about all of this (I swear!), but I do genuinely believe that there is an art and intelligence to creating quality dance music, which I think a lot of people who aren't in the know struggle to understand. So let me try to analogize it with something else: this now-enormously profitable EDM flightpath that popular dance music has been on for far too long, which dates all the way back to the void that was left by the death of Eurodance in the early 2000s, is similar to the bygone dynamic between metal and hair metal. A lot of metalheads really despised hair metal, and in retrospect, some of us may look back on a chunk of it with rose-colored nostalgia, but we also realize how plainly stupid and awful so much of it was too, even though it was extremely popular. And it's pretty much the same thing here with dance music today; far too much of this shit's dumb and it sucks, and it's been this way for way too long—we are in desperate need of some kind of "grunge" moment here.

Fortunately, though, not everything with dance music in 2001 was so black-and-white. While these horrendous Louie DeVito selections were packing rooms and pervading the US dance charts, there was still fine dance music being made elsewhere that had an overall much sleeker and cosmopolitan vibe to it. It was that filtery and French-sounding house stuff from acts like Daft Punk and songs like Modjo's "Lady (Hear Me Tonight)" and Phats & Smalls' "Turn Around," specifically. Ironically, and deservedly so, this much more disco-rooted style of dance music would end up succeeding better commercially at the time than the fist-pumping "underground" Louie DeVito stuff, but the commerciality of EDM would eventually break through to the masses too. And Daft Punk may've ended up becoming the most iconic dance act of their own generation, but a lot of the people in the EDM world that sat immediately behind them were pushing out steady streams of garbage, much in the same way that Metallica were the kings of metal, but the collective of hair bands that sat behind their prowess in the 80s to early 90s were largely dog shit too.

Anyway, if you're not really following any of this or you think I'm insane or whatever, just put this mix on for a few minutes and I think you might understand what I'm getting at—that this stuff is simply the hair metal of dance music.

Listen to the full mix here.

No highlights.

[pulsdmedia]

The Week Ahead 11/11-11/17

Food, drink, celebrities, fashion, and a whole lot more! That's what is in store this week. Rest up because the weekend is all about The 2024 BK Tequila Festival. Remember Pamela Anderson? Well, this is your chance to meet her. And who doesn't love shopping for a great cause...

$29 Tickets To The Brooklyn Tequila & Spirits Festival

Sip, sip, agav-yay! Just $29 gets you a ticket to either the afternoon or the evening session of The 2024 Brooklyn Tequila & Spirits Festival where you will get to spend 3 hours exploring over 100 Tequilas, Mezcals, and a small selection of other spirits. As you drink, dance away, and if you get hungry, there will be lots of yummy food available for purchase too!

The Last Showgirl: Pamela Anderson in Convo

Get an exclusive look inside The Last Showgirl with a special screening and conversation with Gotham nominated Pamela Anderson and director Gia Coppola, moderated by MTV’s Josh Horowitz for a live recording of his Happy Sad Confused podcast.

$19 Tickets To Fashion For Action Open Bar Fundraiser

Strut your stuff in style and give your wardrobe a runway-worthy refresh at The 2024 Fashion For Action Celebrity Shopping Party & Benefit! Just $19 gets you into this fashionista celebration that includes a Hour Open Bar of Wine & Beer. Plus, you'll be able to shop amazing brands such as Alexis Bittar, Apiece Apart, Loewe, and many others at huge discounts! All Proceeds To Benefit Housing Works' Dual Mission of ending Homelessness & AIDS in NYC.

Black Designers: Leading New Fashion Models

The Museum at FIT will host a conversation about influential Black American designers who are reshaping the fashion industry through new production networks, cultural narratives, and sustainability. Learn how these designers are building bridges between New York and global locales. The conversation will be moderated by MFIT associate curator Elizabeth Way. A book signing will follow the event.

$29 Tickets To An Open Bar Holiday Y2K Celebration Atop Of NYC

Back by popular demand to finish the year off, Elsie Rooftop's Hour Open Bar Y2K Party makes for a fabulous weekend. Just $29 gets you a 2 Hour Open Bar, where you will get to party like it is the year 2000! Dance the afternoon away to your favorite Y2K pop hits spun by DJ Kevin Riddagh. Think *NSYNC, Britney Spears, Destiny’s Child, Sisqó, Coldplay - you name the jam, he'll spin it so you can shake it! Who needs a time machine when you have this rooftop retreat?

Jane Street Garden Annual Gala & Garden Party

Welcome to the Jane Street Garden Annual Gala and Garden Party! Join them for a delightful evening at the beautiful Jane Street Garden. Get ready for a night filled with music, dancing, delicious food, and good company.