I get it from My Daddy

Who’s that Chic???? 👀🤪😜😂🤣⚜⚜⚜⚜
I dedicate these pics to my Daddy George Price!!! He is the man behind my business, fashion and hair senses. Actually both he and my Mama fed New Orleans culture, entrepreneurship and compassion for others as so as the air filled our lungs.

He kept us dressed in the finest clothing and shoes, Lord & Taylor, Masion Blanche, Krauss were a few of our spots and they knew us by name. He brought us to meet congressmen, to business dealings and anywhere he needed to go when it was his time to have us and I didn’t mind. I was the ultimate Daddy’s Girl. My Daddy could have took me to the moon with no oxygen tank or spacesuit, I knew we would be alright cuz My Daddy was with me and he wouldn’t go anywhere that would jeopardize our wellbeing.

I can feel myself spinning around the beauty salon chairs, walking on the salon floor stage, looking in the mirrored lined wall with the smell of hot combs, curling irons, hair chemicals filling the salon and all the pretty women who wld wait so my Daddy could sprinkle his make em beautiful magic dust, the ones that had their turn either sat under the burning hot hair dryers awaiting a touch of his magical hands.

the one that sat in the chair would get her final spin in the chair as he pumped it down, bringing full center in the mirror as her hands would cover her mouth but you can see the joy in her eyes from admiring herself, then she would get up grease palms with him and plant a big kiss on his cheek as I looked on and felt a tinge of jealousy but it would soon disappear as she would say “George your girls are so cute and well mannered and you keep them dressed so well” that lil bit of acknowledgment saved her..

once he was done, he would sit us by the desk, that once sat at the desk with his as he did the books, made my 7yr old self count thousands of dollars and then we were off to the fanciest restaurant where I would always get a cheeseburger and pina colada til I turned 9yrs old then my palate was more developed for some big people food.

A native of New Orleans, who left her beloved New Orleans to spend twenty years of living in the land of Minnesota Not So Nice. Minnesota was full of opportunities but would learn that the soul of the state and the people who made it was just as icy cold as the temperatures. After the years and my 40th birthday flew by, I decided it was time to pack up my youngest child and come back to my roots, my birthplace the city that not only birthed me but gave me life. I would not be who I am without my New Orleans beginnings. I am all things that would challenge the belief of growing up in New Orleans. I was a 16yr old teen mother of a premature baby born with a severe medical disability. And only With the help of my mother, was it possible for me to BE! I was able to endure and survive the obstacles laid before my child and me. In a city that was built by my family, but did not allow for us to reap the benefits I overcame. Charity Hospital was my second home — a building filled with miracle workers who made it possible for my daughter to have life. I have lived a life of rainy days with peeks of sunshine, that are my children, including those not of my womb. I'm the proud mother of three and a grandmother of three. My dream was to live the life of the nursery rhyme of ”The Old Lady Who lived in a shoe,” and for the most part, I did. I cared for several children over the years as a special needs foster parent. I would learn that my love was not enough for some children, but I loved them through their pain. I'm not sure if I ever had a case of true love or came close to what love looks like on television, but I had my share of men and the mirage of love. I survived two abusive marriages. Though I longed to return to New Orleans on a daily bases, I must admit my move was one of the best decisions made for me. I am a college graduate; I was a successful entrepreneur. I coowned a soul food restaurant and catering company in Minnesota for 12 years. I developed the talent of creating custom cakes after the murder of my beloved cousin Melvin Paul. He survived Katrina only to go to Minneapolis six months later to be murdered over a parking spot dispute. But with the challenge of creating a simple wedding cake, I was able to find healing. I created the House of Cakes in honor of him. Minnesota life had me pretty materialistic. I worked to the point I do not remember much, but work and handing my children love money. I thought by having the big house on the hill, a husband, having a family, the ultimate provider and being involved in all things that matter, plus having the funds to match would cure me of what I was told was a generational curse of lack of everything from money, love to even self-love. But for the most part, that life poisoned my heart and soul. I was blinded by visions fed to me by the media. I was told I wasn't anything unless I was better than the Jones's. I lived being ok with a broken, bleeding heart. Life like this did not exist in my family while living in New Orleans from what I viewed with my eyes and soul. We may not have had all the things I acquired over the years, but we were happy, we were together. Family outside of New Orleans wasn't family anymore. We lived separate lives and had awkward moments when we bumped into each other in public. I hated living in Minnesota even though life their helped me in so many ways. I felt deep down the only way to repair it was to get back to my roots, my soul, my home, myself, my New Orleans. I'm here, and I love it. Even being in the so-called Blighted Area of New Orleans and not having all the financial and material security, I'm happy. I am determined that She, yes, New Orleans is a woman is just like me; together, we will overcome and will rise from all that tried to kill our spirit. Nothing like starting from the bottom and making your way back up!. I just know in my heart that New Orleans will provide for me. There's a bank account with funds in it owed to me by way of back pay for my ancestors. And I will receive my inheritance, and I will continue the traditions and customs of the old to keep the heartbeat of New Orleans beating. I'm down in the boot, living the life that feels right to me awaiting my destiny...

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