Black girl magic is a magnetic power. It’s the phenomenal-woman effect that draws attention and makes the world watch for us.
What we wear. How we wear it.
What we say. How we say it.
What we listen to, what we watch, what we read, what we buy. Our brilliance shapes trends.
Media industrialists who churn out reality television know that. We sell, not because of the us that we authentically are, but because Joe and Jane America have been voyeurs to our cussing, bickering, scratching, tugging, dissing, thrashing and throttling dysfunction, and they like it. It’s entertaining to us, and for nonblack folks not in the know, it confirms their just-a-little-bit-racist prejudices about how we live and behave.
In the last 10 years, more than 150 reality shows have aired across major networks. Of those, about 30 have centered around black women, the next spurred by the success of the one before it, escorting casts of previously unknowns into instant celebrity.
They suddenly have legions of admirers and fans and followers, consisting largely of our young girls. They dote on these women’s high-end glamour, an accoutrement of a lifestyle that represents wealth, success and general fabulousness, and adopt the adversarial posture that chicks are bound to hate on them and keep them from shining.
Source: The Root | JANELLE HARRIS