September is Suicide Prevention Month

September is Suicide Prevention Month and I wanted to remind you that small actions can make a huge difference in someone who is experiencing difficult times.

It doesn’t help that some of us have been stuck inside on quarantine for what seems like to be the whole 2020. Our love ones are experiencing life alone. We can’t hug on and kiss our elderly. The Death of Kobe Bryant. Being stuck in the United States and not being able to travel. School back in session. Working from home. The Death of Chadwich Boseman. It is literally one thing after another.

Having dealt with bouts of depression and suicidal ideations after the death of my daughter, a tour to Iraq, and Afghanistan… I know what it feels like to think you are all alone or that no one else could possibly understand the struggles and stressors that are in your life. For me the suicidal ideations weren’t because I wanted to die, it was simply to stop the pain.

This is a photo of me at my daughter’s funeral in Honolulu, HI

Why am I sharing this with you? Well, Suicide and Mental Health Awareness a stigma in the African American Community we just don’t talk about it. We’ve all had that relative that was “crazy” because they were “off their medicine.” Or you hear, “his daddy/mama” was crazy and he’s/she’s crazy too.

I have found that sharing my story about my mental health challenges has helped in my recovery as well as offer encouragement and support to others who have experienced similar experiences. It promotes understanding and empathy to those without a mental illness. I simply, want to end the “silence” of what not being said but understood.

I am a living testimony that you can get get through whatever it is that you feel like is weighing you down so heavily. You are not alone. You are important to someone. There are resources available and people you can talk to should you need it.

If you are a veteran like myself, remember can always reach out to the veteran crisis line 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year at 1-800-273-8255 and press 1 or 911 immediately.

If you are a civilian and you or someone you know is in an emergency, call The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 800-273-TALK (8255) or 911 immediately.

Disclaimer: This is not an advertisement and I am not a spokesperson for The VA or National Suicide Prevention Hotline. I am simply sharing the resources.

Just a reminder in case your mind is playing tricks on you today.

You matter.

You’re important.

You’re love.

Your presence on this earth makes a difference whether you see it or not.

Peace, Love, and Glamour

-Lexi

Dern Facebook Memories!

Yesterday was supposed to be my MOST productive day EVER!
At least that’s what I told myself the night prior. I was going to get up, check facebook (don’t judge me), and get ready for my interview later that day.
Well, things DIDN’T go as planned.
I rolled over, opened Facebook…and there it was!
An unexpected memory popped up and looked me right in my sleep deprived face…

I was quickly reminded that yesterday, 5 years ago, I had announced to the world that my then husband and I would be starting completely over in raising a little one. There was “a new girl in town” and she would be The LAST of the bunch…so I thought.

A bulk of emotions took over my thoughts and I went from feeling amazing to somber in the blink of an eye (literally).

I was sad because I did not get a chance to hear my baby girl cry, I didn’t see her first steps, I won’t see her graduate from college. There are a lot of milestones that are missed because she died unexpectedly in my womb.

Naturally, I threw my phone down, turned back over, and curled up in the fetal position…

This morning, I have a new outlook on life! I am grateful for the memory because I was reminded of the copious amount of women who have shared their story with me about their loss, I was reminded that I started an amazing, colorful business to combat my mental health struggles, and that there is someone out there who is waiting to hear my story so they can get through their nightmare.

Love, Peace, and Glamour

Lexi

In Remembrance of Her

 

Lauren Taylor Williams

 

Brigitte Nicole once said, “One of the most courageous decisions you’ll ever make is to finally let go of what is hurting your heart and soul”. This may be sound advice for some; and in most cases we go our entire lives being told to let go of one thing or another. But in the case of my angel baby Lauren, I chose to hold on. Given everything that I was going through during her loss; the thought of her, the memory of her, the potential of her life was not something I could release from my mind or heart. Her brief presence in this world was not a mistake and not a footnote in my life. The foundation of Aloha Glamour is built on her memory and her spirit so holding on to her doesn’t hurt my heart or soul but in fact helps heal them. As I begin this blog it’s my hope that the stories I share with you will bring hope, not sadness and show that even through the greatest of tragedy a seed for something amazing can be planted in your life.

Alexis Williams

#thegirlintheskirt

Beyond the Cookout: Making Black Liberation a Daily Practice

So you pulled up to the Juneteenth block party.

Ate good. Laughed loud. Wore that Ankara with your chest.

But now it’s the week after—and I have to ask…

Now what?

Because Juneteenth isn’t just a one-day celebration.

It’s a lifelong declaration.

It’s the blueprint our ancestors passed down.

A call to remember who we are even after the music fades and the fireworks stop.

Being Black in America means we don’t get to clock out of the movement.

We are the movement.

Every time we speak truth in a room that wants us silent—liberation.

Every time we raise our babies with pride in their skin—liberation.

Every time we choose joy over survival mode—liberation.

This is how we keep Juneteenth alive: we live like we’re free—even when the world says we’re not.

And listen… it’s not about being perfect. It’s about being present.

It’s about refusing to shrink.

Refusing to code-switch your soul.

Refusing to play small to make systems comfortable.

Here are 3 ways to carry that Juneteenth energy all year long:

1. Build your own table—and pull others up with you.

Shop Black. Hire Black. Mentor a younger queen. Every dollar and decision is a vote for the future.

2. Protect your peace like a protest.

You don’t owe burnout to the ancestors. They didn’t survive for you to suffer—they survived so you could rest and rise.

3. Keep learning—and unlearning.

Read the books. Challenge the norms. Correct the lies. Stay loud. Stay learning. Stay dangerous—in the best way.

Sis, you are the dream they tried to bury.

You are the legacy they couldn’t silence.

You are the celebration—and the resistance.

Tell me in the comments: what’s your liberation practice?

What’s one thing you’re doing to make freedom real in your everyday life?

Share this post, subscribe to the blog, and stay tuned—because Black pride isn’t seasonal. It’s eternal.

And just in case nobody told you today:

You make your ancestors proud every time you stand tall in your truth.

Reclaiming Joy: Celebrating Juneteenth with Intention and Style

Let me go ahead and say it—culture should never feel like a costume. Especially not ours.

Every year when Juneteenth rolls around, I watch folks tiptoe around our traditions like they’re optional. But let another culture have a celebration? You pulling up with the themed drinks, the flag colors, and the whole vibe.

I saw y’all eating tacos on Cinco de Mayo.

I saw the green beer on St. Patrick’s Day.

So please don’t get quiet when it’s time to show up for us.

Juneteenth is our time to show up big, bold, and Black on purpose.

And for me? That shows up in what I wear.

I walk into Fashion Weeks as the only African Print designer in the building—and I make sure they see me. Not just for the clothes, but for the culture.

At work, I’m often the only one rocking Ankara like it belongs in the boardroom—because guess what? It does.

It’s not just fabric.

It’s history.

It’s legacy.

It’s resistance woven in color.

And let’s be honest—we’ve been taught to downplay our culture for comfort.

To keep it “professional.”

To wear the neutral tones.

To tuck in our roots and only bring them out at cookouts.

But Juneteenth is the reminder: we were never meant to blend in.

We were born to stand out. To show up. To take up space in the fullness of our identity—and look good doing it.

So how do we celebrate Juneteenth with intention and style?

1. Wear your freedom.

Rock that headwrap. Throw on your boldest fan. Let your wardrobe be a tribute to your ancestors and a testimony to your presence. This isn’t just fashion—it’s a cultural clapback.

2. Host a Freedom Fit Day.

Call your friends, have a mini shoot, or hit the streets in your best Black-owned looks. Post it. Tag it. Hashtag it. Let the timeline feel your freedom.

3. Don’t water down the celebration.

Juneteenth ain’t just about red drinks and ribs—it’s about storytelling, honoring elders, and being unapologetically us. Cookout + consciousness. Joy + justice.

Because listen:

If they can celebrate their heritage freely, so can we.

What are you wearing for Juneteenth this year?

Drop your fit idea in the comments, tag a friend who’s pulling up in style, and subscribe to the blog—we’ve got one more post coming next week to keep the energy flowing past June 19.

Still Not Free: Juneteenth in the Age of Suppression

Let’s not sugarcoat it, sis.

It’s 2025, and we still out here fighting for freedom like it’s on layaway.

Yes, we love Juneteenth. Yes, we’ll be in the backyard with the ribs, the red soda, and the Frankie Beverly on repeat.

But let’s not forget why we show up.

Because even though they say we’re free—we know better.

We’re watching them ban Black history while claiming they “don’t see color.”

We’re watching them roll back voting rights like it’s 1955 with an Instagram filter.

And don’t even get me started on how some folks acted bold and brazen during Trump’s years and still walking around like they ain’t do nothing wrong.

So yeah—Juneteenth hits different when you realize we’re still out here dodging the same systems our ancestors prayed through.

Juneteenth isn’t just a throwback. It’s a reality check.

It’s a reminder that freedom delayed is still freedom denied.

And just because they put a holiday on the calendar don’t mean they put justice in the streets.

Here’s the real tea:

Our stories are still being silenced in schools. Our votes are still being blocked. Our people are still being policed, punished, and pushed out. And too many of us are still performing strength while barely holding it together.

So no—we’re not free. Not all the way. Not yet.

But we’re loud.

We’re rooted.

And we’re not going back to sleep.

Because Juneteenth isn’t just a cookout.

It’s a call-out.

It’s a clapback to the systems that tried to bury us.

And it’s a celebration of the fact that we’re STILL HERE.

Drop your truth in the comments: where have you seen freedom still being held hostage in 2025?

Share this post with your people and make sure you’re back here next week—we’re talkin’ joy, red velvet cake, and how to celebrate Juneteenth with full-blown cultural pride.

Why Juneteenth Still Matters: A Truth Delayed Is Still a Truth

Freedom was never just given to us.

It was withheld, delayed, and fought for.

When President Abraham Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation on January 1, 1863, it declared enslaved people in Confederate states to be free. But for over two years, that truth was kept from the enslaved people in Galveston, Texas. On June 19, 1865, Union soldiers finally arrived and announced what should have been law all along: they were free.

Let that sit with you for a moment.

They were free on paper, but not in practice. Free in theory, but still in chains. Free in speech, but not in action.

That delay was not accidental—it was systemic. And for Black Americans, Juneteenth is not just a celebration. It is a reminder of the cost of silence. It is a mirror showing how long justice can take to reach us. And it is a promise that our freedom story isn’t over yet.

When we honor Juneteenth, we’re not just reflecting on history.

We are reclaiming a moment that was meant to be erased.

We are reminding ourselves and this nation that delayed justice is still injustice.

We are making space to say,

We see what was hidden.

We remember what was denied.

We celebrate the freedom that took too long—and continue demanding the freedom still being withheld today.

So no, Juneteenth is not just another day off. It is sacred. It is ours. And it still matters because:

There are still people profiting from our oppression. There are still systems designed to silence us. There are still truths being buried—just like they were in 1863.

But here’s the thing about truth:

It always finds a way to rise.

This is why Juneteenth matters. Because it proves that even when freedom is delayed, it cannot be denied.

What’s something new you learned today about Juneteenth?

Drop a comment below, share this post, and subscribe to the blog for next week’s deep dive into how freedom still feels fragile in today’s America.

Fan Yourself, Sis: Emotional Regulation is a Flex

http://alohaglamour.shop

That fan in her hand?

It’s not just for show.

It’s a symbol. A reminder. A sacred tool.

Because sometimes, life gets hot.

Stress sneaks in. Emotions swell up. The world expects you to stay calm, collected, and composed—even when your spirit is screaming for a break.

And yet… here you are, still fanning yourself with grace.

This post is your permission slip to do just that—emotionally, spiritually, and mentally.

Let’s talk about something that doesn’t get enough credit in our community:

emotional regulation.

Not bottling things up.

Not snapping and regretting it.

But the beautiful, grounded art of staying centered in the middle of chaos.

Sis, keeping your peace is a flex.

It’s not weakness. It’s wisdom.

It’s not avoidance. It’s authority.

Here are 3 ways to ‘fan yourself’ when life tries to overheat your spirit:

1. Pause before reacting.

Give yourself a moment. A breath. A beat. Your power is in your pause. What feels urgent is rarely actually urgent.

2. Create a calming ritual.

Whether it’s a morning cup of tea, deep breathing, journaling, or fanning yourself while speaking affirmations—rituals are soul-level reminders that your peace is worth protecting.

3. Speak to your emotions with compassion.

You’re not “too emotional.” You’re human. Instead of judging your feelings, get curious about them. Ask: What are you here to show me?

It’s time we stop glorifying being unbothered and start celebrating emotional wisdom.

Because when you can feel fully and respond with care, you’re not just surviving—you’re leading.

So yes, fan yourself.

Fan yourself when the group chat gets loud.

Fan yourself when the kids are doing the most.

Fan yourself when you need five minutes to gather yourself before answering that email.

You are allowed to choose calm.

You are allowed to protect your joy.

If this post resonated with your inner peacekeeper, drop a comment below and share your favorite way to recenter.

Send this to the friend who’s been doing the most without taking a breath.

Let’s normalize emotional regulation as part of Black wellness, one fan wave at a time.

Green Is the Color of Growth: Holding Space for Your Becoming

There’s a reason she’s wearing green.

Not just because it’s regal. Not just because it turns heads.

But because green is the color of growth—and sis, you’ve been growing in silence for a long time.

Behind every smile is a woman who’s been pruning pain, uprooting doubt, and watering herself in places no one sees.

This post is for you—the woman who’s still healing while showing up.

The one who feels unseen in her becoming.

The one who is tired of being strong but too proud to break.

Here’s what I need you to know today:

You are not behind. You are becoming.

We don’t talk enough about the awkward in-between—the space between who you were and who you’re becoming. It’s not always pretty. Sometimes it’s lonely. Sometimes it’s confusing. But it’s sacred.

Your softness is not regression. Your pause is not failure.

Healing isn’t linear. Some days, you bloom. Some days, you break. And both are holy.

Let this be your reminder that you don’t have to rush.

You don’t have to prove.

You don’t have to shrink just to keep others comfortable.

Here are 3 gentle ways to hold space for your own growth:

1. Stop apologizing for needing time.

Healing takes time—and anyone who can’t honor that doesn’t deserve front-row access to your evolution.

2. Journal your progress, not just your pain.

Write down the wins—big or small. That day you got out of bed. That time you said no. That moment you chose peace over proving. These are milestones too.

3. Celebrate the woman you’re becoming—even if she’s still becoming.

You don’t have to wait until the “after” picture to clap for yourself. Celebrate the during. The trying. The becoming. Because that’s where the real magic happens.

Your story doesn’t have to be finished to be beautiful.

So wear your green.

Take up space.

And bloom wildly—even in the places no one claps.

If this post spoke to the part of you that’s been quietly evolving, leave a comment and tell us one thing you’re proud of yourself for today.

Then, share this post with someone else who’s still becoming—we’re growing together, one soft step at a time.

Bag: http://alohaglamour.shop

Model: Kenisha Miley

Photo: Barry Smith (Gulfport, MS)

Makeup: Tee Bev

Heirlooms of the Heart: Healing Through Cultural Identity

The fan she holds is more than a fashion statement.

It’s a memory. A message. A map back to self.

In the folds of that bold African print are whispers of grandmothers, village markets, mango trees, and lullabies sung in mother tongues. It carries the weight of what we lost—and the power of what we can reclaim.

This Mental Health Awareness Month, I want us to talk about something we don’t hear enough:

Sometimes the medicine you need isn’t in a bottle or a therapist’s chair.

Sometimes, it’s in the culture you’ve been disconnected from.

The way we dress. The foods we eat. The names we carry. The music that moves our hips without permission. These are not just aesthetic choices—they’re threads of identity. And when we lose them, we lose a piece of ourselves.

But here’s the good news:

You can return to your roots—and find your healing there.

Three ways to reconnect with your cultural identity as a path to wellness:

1. Wear your story with pride.

Whether it’s an Ankara fan, a kente headwrap, or a waist bead, adornment is affirmation. When you dress in your heritage, you remind the world—and yourself—of where you come from and why that matters.

2. Ask the elders.

Call your auntie. Visit your grandmother. Learn your people’s stories while you still can. Every recipe, every proverb, every family photo is a piece of your wellness puzzle.

3. Create rituals that honor your lineage.

Light a candle. Play old-school spirituals. Braid your hair with intention. Healing can be cultural. It can be ancestral. It can be yours.

You are not just someone who comes from greatness.

You carry it.

And when you remember who you are, the healing begins—not just for you, but for everyone watching.

If this post reminded you of your roots or lit a fire in your spirit, don’t let it stop here.

Share this with a sister, comment below with your favorite cultural memory, and follow the blog for more soulful reflections all month long.

Together, we heal.

Together, we remember.

Together, we rise.

Grace in the Mirror: Why Mental Wellness is the New Luxury”

There’s a sacred kind of beauty that comes from choosing yourself.

Not just the self that shows up for others.

Not the version that holds it all together.

But the real you—beneath the titles, the to-do lists, and the tired smile.

That woman in the mirror deserves grace.

For far too long, we’ve been told that our worth is tied to what we produce.

If we’re not grinding, we’re falling behind.

If we rest, we’re called lazy.

If we break, we feel like burdens.

But what if we flipped the narrative?

What if grace became the new grind?

What if mental wellness became the new luxury?

Sis, your peace is not optional. It is your inheritance.

That emerald dress? That quiet confidence? That crown of curls and soft glow?

She’s not just a model—she’s a message.

A reminder that slowing down is not weakness. It’s wisdom.

That rest is not running away—it’s a radical return to self.

During this Mental Health Awareness Month, I want you to start thinking of your peace the way you think of gold:

Precious.

Worthy.

Non-negotiable.

Let this be the month you stop apologizing for needing space.

Let this be the season where your softness is your strength.

Here are 3 truths to carry with you this week:

1. You do not have to earn rest.

You are not a machine. You’re a masterpiece. You don’t have to hit rock bottom to give yourself a break.

2. Saying “no” is a form of self-preservation.

You are not selfish for setting boundaries—you’re wise for recognizing your limits.

3. You are allowed to feel beautiful and broken.

Your healing doesn’t have to be perfect. Your glow-up can include grief. Your joy can rise from the ashes.

So go ahead—stand tall in your fullness.

Wear the green dress.

Fan yourself with stories of survival.

And remind the world: this is what luxury looks like.

If this post made you pause, breathe deeper, or feel seen, don’t keep it to yourself.

Comment below, share with a sister, and subscribe to the blog.

We’re reclaiming peace, together—one post at a time.

Letting Go to Leave a Legacy: Why I Relinquished My Title as Ms. Black Gulf Shores USA 2025

When I stepped into the Ms. Black USA pageant system, I didn’t just want to wear a crown—I wanted to make history. And I did.

I was the first Ms. Black Mississippi USA from the Gulf Coast.
The first to place in the Top 12 at nationals.
The first to win Ms. Congeniality in my division.

That was my impact. My legacy. And no one can erase it.

But then, something unexpected happened.

After my reign, young women from my church—girls who had never even considered pageantry—started to dream bigger. They saw what I had done and said, “I want to do that too!” Their excitement lit a fire in me. I thought, Maybe I should compete again. Maybe I should stand beside them on that stage.

So, I did what I always do—I went for it. I became Ms. Black Gulf Shores USA 2025, ready to chase another crown. But as I walked this new path, something in my spirit shifted. I realized that my true purpose wasn’t in competing again.

It was in guiding, mentoring, and making space for others.

I didn’t need another title to continue my impact. I didn’t need to stand on that stage to uplift the next generation. I had already opened doors, broken barriers, and left a mark that couldn’t be erased—no matter how much some might try.

So, I made the bold decision to step back.

I relinquished my title as Ms. Black Gulf Shores USA 2025—not because I couldn’t do it, but because my heart told me that I didn’t have to. My legacy in the Ms. Black USA system wasn’t about how many times I competed. It was about the history I made, the lives I touched, and the future queens I helped inspire.

And that? That can never be taken away.

To the women who think they have to be in the spotlight to make an impact—you don’t. Your presence, your guidance, your story is enough. You don’t have to be on the stage to help someone else shine.

“Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.” — Matthew 5:16

To those who think they can erase my name from Ms. Black Mississippi USA’s history—good luck with that. I was the first.

And to every woman reading this: Your legacy is not in the titles you hold but in the lives you touch.

“Leadership is not about being in charge. It is about taking care of those in your charge.” — Simon Sinek

I am still here. Still making an impact. And trust me… you haven’t seen the last of me yet.

LegacyOverTitles #MsBlackMississippiUSA #StillMakingHistory #LiveInColor

My First Week in Ghana: A Love Story With a Side of Food Poisoning 😩

Y’all, I’ve been in Ghana for almost a week now, and let me tell you—it’s been an emotional rollercoaster. 🎢 Ghana truly has my heart. Every time I’m here, it feels like home. But listen… even “home” can try your patience!

The Good: Ghana is still bae. I’ve been soaking up the vibes, the culture, the everything. This place holds so much of my soul that I know I’ll be back over and over. But you know I gotta expand the map—other African countries, I’m coming for you soon. 🌍✨

The Bad: So tell me why ya girl got FOOD POISONING?! 🤢 Like, who gave me the nerve to think my stomach could handle ALL the local dishes in one week? This is my third trip here and my first time going through this mess. My body said, “Sit down somewhere!” So, off to the hospital I went… and baby, the struggle was REAL.

The Ugly: The sign on the hospital door said they opened at 7:30 AM, but guess who showed up at 8? The staff! Meanwhile, a room full of us—over 20 people—just sitting there looking at each other like we’re extras in a bad movie. My American side came out QUICK. I’m thinking, “Why y’all playing with people’s time like this?”

Eventually, I marched up to the head of patient coordination (because closed mouths don’t get fed). Shoutout to Wisdom, the real MVP, who took me office to office like a boss, all while side-eyeing his own team for being late. He even joked I should apply for a job there—sir, please!

The Lesson: Look, I hate to admit it, but I took US healthcare for granted. Sure, it’s far from perfect, but at least you know folks will probably be on time. Ghana taught me patience this week, and I’m grateful. But baby, don’t test me when I’m sick!

I’m feeling better now, thank God, and back to enjoying this beautiful country. Ghana, you might stress me out, but I still love you. 😍

#BlackGirlTravels #GhanaChronicles #FoodPoisoningChronicles