Monday, 28 December 2015


For fear of debauchery and suspicion of lunacy I will not quote the ‘Kenyan’ version of Isaiah 9:6. I am quite certain of rattling that whom I should seek forgiveness from and I am more than certain that I do not want to be Waigurud. The verse clearly depicts who was born and I fail on all accounts to see the name Brenda, Ochieng and Nafula appear in the context. So why are you all exceeding merriments like you are wonderful counsellors?

Christmas is no longer Christmas. It’s a season to pour coins on food, clothes, vacations and other shenanigans that have no Jesus in them. Jesus was not born in Mombasa, Dubai nor Kempinsky unless you are gathering there in the name of the Lord, let’s kindly stick to the manger. We use Jesus’ birthday to engage in activities that are far off from the scripture as teachers are from their pay. No one quite remembers what encompasses this recurring tradition or maybe 310 steered us so far that we no longer care.

Christmas is always so much miscalled. A celebration framed by extreme atrocities that bear no image nor remembrance of the king Himself. Then soon after memories become aberrations as the ‘New Year New Me’ motto is appraised. My words however hold little gravity as I participate and indulge in all these affairs. Furthermore, I might just catapult it to the next generation and the ones following. But who is responsible? Who shall we hang by the noose of blame?

This string of thoughts may arouse emotions but bless your heart. Devour that chicken, mob that Versace, trod that white sand and wake up in that Bugatti. Felis Navidad.

Forgive Us Oh Lord For We Have Sinned.

Sunday, 27 December 2015



Style is borderline fashion, do you think there's a difference?

Yes, I believe that there is a huge difference between fashion and style. Fashion issimply clothes may it be in a store or runway but style to me is how you put together pieces of clothing to fit your comfort and most importantly your persona or sometimes mood.

Was fashion inborn or did you grow into it?

To me fashion wasn't inborn. 2-3 years ago I cared very little about fashion or my personal style. It all came to be about a year and a half ago, at a point in my life, where I was getting to find my self and generally my purpose... Which I truly believe in every sense its fashion!

With so many upcoming stylists and gurus in the industry, what would you say makes you stand out?

What I believe stands out about me, is that I stay true to my style, I am never swayed by anyone, yes I draw inspiration from other fashion icons, runway shows as well as other bloggers , however I take what might work for me and give it my personal touch to make it my own.

What is your favorite print? Or collectible in your wardrobe?

Hahaha this is probably the hardest question for me, but it would probably be distressed denim.

Your fashion repertoire is pretty chic, what was the biggest milestone you faced before you settled on blogging?

I think the most challenging thing was that I am usually very hard on myself so I strive for the best and the best of who I can be. So I guess I didn't want to get into it if I knew I wouldn't make it to the top. Well am not at the top, however I still strive to be there someday. In short I guess I was my biggest hurdle.

Do you personally select all your items?
Yes I do select all my items.

Apart from styling yourself, have you redesigned anyone else's wardrobe?

Well, if it counts I have redesigned my boyfriends wardrobe and my sister, I practically style my family and friends.

What do you think is lacking in the fashion industry generally in Kenya?

In relation to the Kenyan fashion industry, I feel we lack a fashion culture, and there is a lot of great and inspirational Kenyan designers, but the general public doesn't really support them enough, I am personally guilty of the same. I guess it's easy to run to 'gikomba' than research on a Kenyan designer and support them. However, I feel it's a growing industry and this may possibly change very soon or the near future. I am happy to be apart of this.

At what point would you consider yourself a full blown stylist or have achieved ultimate success?

Am I a stylist? Haha, well I hope to get a chance to style masses. As per now, I am still growing my brand and am yet to get this opportunity.

As a female stylist what inspiration do you want the youth in this generation to draw from you?

Well, I would love my readers or followers, to grow their confidence in themselves and appreciate their personal style.

Who would you like to work with both locally and internationally?

I would love to work with Kenyan designers such us as Adel De Jak, Nur, other companies such as, Woolworths. Internationally I would die to work with Chanel, Alexander Wang, Alexander McQueen, Balmain Paris among others!

What is your favorite part of being a fashion stylist?

I love to experiment new trends and incorporate them in my style and sharing them with my readers on my blog.

If not fashion, what other creative aspect would you be embracing?

I love music, I would love to do some work in radio. I guess that's what I would do if not fashion.

Last, not in any way the least,
Is Leah Patriz your real name?

Yes my name is Leah Patriz, my mum gave me the name Patriz. Leah is my official name, among others

Feel free to visit her blog at leahpatrizcom and keep up with this lass on Instagram Patriz_instyle

Sunday, 6 December 2015

STREETS BECOME FAMILY by Daisy Waitherero Wambua

I had alighted at Cannon House where most Rongai buses and matatus claim dominance. This is mostly to avoid the ongoing traffic and getting subjected to delve much deeper into Railways station. Not a minute after, my phone rings capturing the attention of those walking besides me and in opposite direction. I have never been taught the art of shyness or perhaps outgrew it as age began catching up, I dare not speak out of aberrations. Claiming part of a house that produces strong women who have a fine prowess in multitasking, I could initiate, conduct and become fully immersed into more than one conversation.

A young girl lies on the cold pavement covered in a deplorable headscarf exposing her graven feet, full of cut marks probably from walking a long distance. A boule with seemingly empty or bearing two or three shillings is placed not so far from her head. Imploring many are yet to be convinced and some suffer blindness as they make their way. Irascible passers-by quick to call her out of her ‘fake’ act, aggravate their voices as they near her. However, she doesn’t seem disturbed by their scoffs or their precedent disregard. Her body seemed dry and drab, no interjections, no fuss, no gesture, quite odd especially in a country that savors rants and raves. This particular case struck me of how I so often withhold rotary in fear of exploitation or endorsing dependency.

Two minutes too soon (still busy planning my weekend shenanigans) we come across several cases similar to the prior. As if the universe was giving a second chance. This round a woman sat impecuniously one leg over the other, a half masked face, frail hands holding onto her bare naked child. The mid-day sun charred her lips, illuminating the dentures as she asked for a hand of kindness. The bundle of joy sitting on her laps seemed blissfully unaware of her diminishing energy and ultimate sacrifice. He smiled so idyllically that I found myself smiling back. That’s when I realized all this time it was me who was disabled, not them. I was blind to them, my brain was malfunctioning and my hand withered. I gathered that physical inability does not drive us to pits of mercy and ravels of fine acting and manipulation. It’s the mind, the heart and the soul predicament in seeing a better day and striving to achieve it.

The inability was only but a state of mind inasmuch it affects so many of us but we remain unaware.It’s not just charity to them, it’s a hope for a more desiring day. An opportunity to see the good in a world that grosses and only gives when it’s assured back.

Manipulation has many artists of contours that we fail each other for fear of exploitation and deceit. But would you rather give to somebody who is at the depths of famish whether calculated or not? Or deny them mercy on account of pure guesswork and misguided imaginations? If you give out of a pure heart, what is it that you will lose? Money cannot overtake goodwill and if does then it shall find you in the streets. When a rich man has no morals, we altogether succumb to blindness but when a poor man suffers the same shortcoming, he shall be stoned to death. Hitherto a politician grabs land and no one utters a word but a commoner will snip a loaf of bread and so shall death befit of him.

One event can make you be on the other side of the hand.