I don’t like my name very much. Anyone who knows me has heard me bitch about it (sorry guys). I’m tired of being called Melissa, Melinda, Malena or any other name that sounds like mine and is more popular. I also hate having to repeat it twice or three times only to have people forget it or getting called the wrong name anyways. I mean, I’m dominican, with a greek name, currently living in Madrid. Talk about globalization. It was confusing even to my father, who wrote the wrong name on my birth certificate, but that’s a whole other story. My mother swears she named me after Melina Mercouri. But I know she named me after spanish singer’s Camilo Sesto “Melina”, which was a hit the year before my birth. Coincidence? I think not.
So, “canary yellow”. That is one of the meanings of my name. “Honey” is another one. Yeah, right. The definition of Melina’s personality: sociable but with an intense, strong character (true), likes to stand out (sadly, true) and loves to dominate (hell, yeah). Sorry mom, you asked for it. Why am I rambling about my name, you might ask? Well, the yellow thing strikes a cord. Hence my love of anything this color, so deep that made me raid a closet and snatch this jacket ji ji. The jeans and shoes you’ve seen before. The bag with the studs is another new favorite of mine. The thing with yellow is that you must make it the sole star of the outfit, at least I know I do.