Brittany Rogers’s Good Dress is a striking debut collection, filled with poems that dazzle with brilliance.
Publishers Weekly wrote of the book:
“An exuberant celebration of Black abundance. . . . there’s nary a reader that will read Brittany’s poetry and remain untouched.”
In her own words, here is Brittany Rogers’s Book Notes music playlist for her poetry collection Good Dress:
When I initially began to write Good Dress, I wasn’t setting out to write a book about audacity or adornment. The collection wasn’t supposed to revisit my childhood or become its own sort of coming of age tale. Ironically, I began by writing about myself as an adult; as a mother, a wife, and only after that, a person. It took completing the collection for me to realize it was failing; when I read it to myself, I didn’t leave feeling surprised or moved. At that time, the book lacked the tenderness, boldness and risk that I consider to be hallmarks of my personality; it felt so far from my own voice that I knew I had to rewrite it.
When that realization became clear, I started writing poems which explored all the moments that have allowed me to display all of my too-much, whether that be in my penchant for adornment and maximalism, my commitment to tenderness and wayward grief, how loudly I represent Detroit, or in my refusal to shy away from speaking transparently about relationships, sexuality, and intimacy. Many of those memories have their own soundtracks—songs that I associate with certain events, people, or eras in my life. While there are countless songs that make up a playlist for Good Dress, there are six in particular that are referenced in poems across the collection.
Money by Cardi B
The video for this song inspired “Money”, which ultimately became the first poem of my collection! In it, rapper Cardi B. is seen in varying states of extravagance. At some points in the video, she is literally draped in gold. In others, she is completely naked and ethereal, her hair blowing in an imaginary breeze. At one point, she is clothed in a formal gown, looking absolutely regal as she presses her infant close to her chest. As I watched her march boldly through a bank, surrounded by stacks of money, women who serve as a protective force, and men who could not touch her, I couldn’t help but consider the different lifes that would be possible for me if I weren’t working class and burdened by debt. While I would never want to reach billionaire status, this song made me realize that I long for the security and freedom that comes with financial stability, that I want a life where I can tend to my children and myself “without worrying about ruining my good dress”.
Doin’ Too Much by Kash Doll
Kash Doll is a literal prototype for what it means to be a Detroit girl: Outspoken, direct, heavily adorned; high femme, yet still somehow not fitting into a neat mold of femininity. “Doin’ Too Much” is a praise song for extravagance; it proudly advocates for being obsessed with oneself, for being extra and ignoring criticism from people who “are not doing enough.” When this song came out in 2019, it quickly became an anthem for me and other Detroiters! As a city, we are often shamed for our culture which is known for beautification rituals and adornment; people outside Detroit usually frown upon our flashy jewelry, brightly colored clothes and hair, our fur coats and matching purses. When the Detroit Pistons implemented the Ice Cam at their games as a way to honor this culture of lavishness, I immediately knew I would write a series of odes dedicated to it. I wrote the very first one while listening to “Doin Too Much”, and as such, borrowed the title as a form of homage.
Rock The Boat by Aaliyah
When this song came out in 2001, I was a freshman in high school. At the time, I was unsure about my sense of style, developing new friendships, and establishing an identity at a new school. I was also secretly questioning my sexuality, and beginning to suspect that the feelings I had always had for other girls had officially lasted too long to be a phase. What I remember most about falling in love with this song was pretending to be oblivious to the scandal caused by the accompanying music video. In the video, Aaliyah was on a boat in the middle of the ocean, dressed in all white, and surrounded by other femmes who danced alongside her. To me, she looked like an angel; to the women in my church, she was anything but innocent. My poem “Rock The Boat is a Song about Strapping”, is the result of me reckoning with their religious bigotry and homophobia, while also reconciling with my own complicity. In the poem, I admit “that I’m embarrassed to tell you this”, however, writing about this moment in my life helped me to remember and affirm what I had always known in my body, and to publicly break the silence I hid behind as a teen.
Conceited by Flo Milli
For women in society, to be conceited or self-centered is nearly a cardinal sin. This is especially true of Black women, and can be complicated even further by colorism and classism. Because darker skinned women are often viewed as unattractive under the lens of white supremacist beauty standards, it is almost offensive to some people that we would dare defy society’s lens by thinking highly of ourselves. I give this context to emphasize how powerful it was for me to hear Flo Milli, a gorgeous dark-skinned rapper unabashedly brag about “feeling herself”. When I wrote the suite of poems titled “Flo Milli Shit”, I was considering what it means to own conceit without shame; to splurge on new lingerie, wear 84 inch floor length box braids, or be brazen enough to take a day off without taking a sick day or considering the feelings or needs of anyone else.
Crush on You by Lil’ Kim
It is impossible to have come of age in the 2000’s without knowing who Lil’ Kim is; known as ‘The Queen Bee’, she pioneered the era of women rappers who leaned into their femininity, fashion sense, and sexuality. The video for “Crush on You” is still considered iconic; Kim easily outshined her male counterparts, showcasing four stunning head-to-toe monochromatic looks including mink coats, bikinis, crop tops, and a differently coiffed wig to match. I remember looking at her brown skin and bold outfits, my “eyes howling at my tv screen”, and feeling like no one could possibly find her unattractive. At that age, I was ever conscious of how colorism impacted the ways that I was viewed by men, however, reflecting on this video in “Ol’ Dude at the Gas Station Think He Flirtin’” made me realize that it was never about the male gaze for me. Rather, it was about my ability to be honest about my own attraction to Lil’ Kim, and wanting to be open about those feelings, rather than hiding them for the sake of other people’s perceptions.
One Minute Man by Missy Elliot
In hindsight, I should not have known this song word for word, or at all at 14. While the content was a bit too mature for me, the audacity of the lyrics was magnetic to resist. I was drawn to how brazen and non-traditional Missy Elliot was! Although she dressed in a manner that many would consider non-sexual, there is no denying the intimate demands of this song. When I lost my virginity due to a silly childhood dare, I was more invested in bonding with my cousins and homegirls over a shared experience than I was interested in actually having sex. In hindsight the entire experience was a letdown: it was immature, and nothing like what I expected. Although everyone promised the act would feel good, as I reflect in my poem “I Lost My Virginity after Making a Pact “to Become Women” with my Cousins”, “I didn’t feel anything at all”. However, because of Missy, I knew that something was amiss about this encounter. With her song “One Minute Man”, she established an expectation of pleasure, and set the foundation for me being direct about my needs and desires.
Brittany Rogers is the author of the debut poetry collection Good Dress (Tin House).