You know, I really try to give Karrine Steffans the benefit of the doubt despite my overall feelings about her.
There are a lot of low self-esteem having whores out there slurping up your favorite bisexual rapper, but very few of them reach their goal in winning the lotto via an unplanned (for the men at least) pregnancy.
Those sort of women lack foresight, though. They don’t get in an age where the media has created such an obsession with “celebrity” that even a story about Solange Knowles asking her barber for the Florida Evans cut is worth dissecting for hours. Karrine understands this, however, and was smart enough to figure out a way to profit off of society’s two biggest obsessions: sex and celebrity.
So from her to go from video girl in videos no one remembers seeing to a New York Times best-selling author is impressive. I cring a little bit each time I think about her holding that title, but I respect her hustle.
Now that we’ve gotten the pleasantries out of the way, let’s get to the real: She’s a pretentious hoe with delusions of grandeur.
Let her tell it she is literary genius who seems to think she’s a genius in a land of peons. To her credit, she’s well spoken and doesn’t strike me as an idiot like some of the woman who have tried to follow in her hoe stroll. Still, there’s a certain way you speak to people and Superjaws, that ain’t it.
I’m baffled by her wife and mother of two bit. Does she think we all suffer from dementia? People call you a hoe because of the things you did in the past that you yourself have acknowledge doing. People still call you a hoe because years after the book you were dropping hints left and right about which rapper just spent a vacation in your crotch.
If she weren’t acting so “above it all,” I’d probably be less inclined to bring up her antics. But she does so I must.
She is not Zora Neale Hurston. She is not Toni Morrison. She’s not even Terry McMillan or Sister Souljah. She’s Zane meets 106 & Park. That’s all well and good, but please stop acting like you just wrote some Pulitizer-prize winning piece of literature. Before this video, that last time I’ve seen her on camera she was pulling out her husband’s pair of anal beads. Before that, she was alluding to having sucked the ‘Tussin out of Lil’ Wayne — and her son’s toys were visible in the hotel room.
I’m glad someone called her out although I don’t think it’s the place of a journalist to do so. Or at the very least, not in that manner. On the other hand, Karrine criticized black media — villifying it and again, trying to seem “above it all.” I wonder how she likes them apples now.
Am I the only one irked by this woman acting like the Princess of Monaco? I don’t believe someone’s sexual activities alone suggests how they should be treated, but when you’re entire brand is based on illicit sex with men – including married ones – shouldn’t you take a minute, smell what you just did in your room, and fall the hell back on the cockiness?
And don’t na’an one of ya’ll try to get me to read this book. I’ve seen excerpts. I’ve gotten more insight from a stale fortune cookie. Besides, for every A-list rapper her tongue has entertained, she ended up with Eddie Winslow. I’ll pass on the lessons.