A friend said to me the other day, “I don’t wear tight or revealing clothing because I have too much self-respect.” What’s funny though were the images I had of her grinding into some guys crotch and slapping her ass as she looked back at him basically fucking her with her clothes on the other night as they danced to French Montana’s “Freaks”. The thing many women fail to understand about having class lately, is that it’s a lifestyle. It’s not something you can say you have only when it’s convenient. It’s reflected in every word you say, interaction you have and every decision you make. It’s why I will fuck with a woman with her titties hanging out her tank top who holds the door for the old lady, over the woman in the three piece suit turning her nose up at the young mom who is feeding her family with food stamps.
It’s funny because my mom reminds me of the mom on Everybody Hates Chris. She was the ghetto snob who would beat our asses for sleeping on mattresses without sheets, didn’t like plastic pitchers in her refrigerator or her daughters coming outside with rollers in their hair. But more so than those things, what I learned about class from my mother is more than how to keep a household. It was about speaking to people when you walked in a room, excusing yourself when you’re interrupting a conversation, bringing something whether it be chips or a case of sodas when you’re invited to party. Class isn’t a label that makes you sophisticated because you said so, it’s all about the way you carry yourself.