White People’s Black Fetish

When I was growing up, we had this toaster cover that someone had made by hand, and like all sorts of mundane, everyday items, it vanished and can only be seen in my memory. It looked something like this:

The main difference was that the dress on ours was some sort of gold pattern. But the hair wrap, earrings, and everything else was the same. This is the sort of object that you don’t question as a child — it’s…