Feelin’ Good: The Pleasure Practices of Black Folk
Saturday smelled like bergamot and yeast.Its nights like liquor and dusting powder.Like women forever manipulating somepleasure pot—a bowl of dough, tub ofBlue Magic, hips. I learned offerings carrytheir own scent. Sunday mornings, it wasstale sleep and sweat and some fried versionof pork seasoning the air. Women preparingthemselves in slips and girdles, perfume andlipstick. Brass plates lined in…









