Black Girls on Istedgade by Lesley-Ann Brown
the organist's daughter, by lab 2007 Black Girls on Istegade By Lesley-Ann Brown “It’s funny what people assume about you here in Denmark”, my friend Tracy confides as she takes the candy colored curlers out of her hair. It’s 10 at night, and I had just finished my shift at the restaurant. I was exhausted, but I needed a taste of Brooklyn before I went back to my loneliness and empty apartment. The moment Tracy opened her door and I laid eyes on her—with her curlers and bright pink bathrobe, I knew that I had rolled up to a place close to home. Tracy’s home on Istedegade was typical Brooklyn class—plush sofas in which you melted, an oversized television that fulfilled its entertainment purposes and an endless array of Black hair care products in her bathroom. Tracy wasn’t afraid of color, and this courage enraptured all that entered. Her apartment lacked the clinical minimalism that seems to dominate most Danish homes—and for that I was grateful. I sat comfortably in o...