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Oh, lookie! The what and when are noted! All that’s left is the confession, and scent, if applicable. Have I done Parfumerie Generale’s Querelle? No? Well, today is just as good a day as any. Here are the notes: citruses, Iranian black caraway, myrrh, cinnamon, Haittian vetiver, incense, oakmoss, and ambergris. Some consider this to be an evil scent. Some consider it an haute couture scent. It is complex and intimidating and all day long (you can ask M) it would jump out at me out of nowhere, seemingly, and I would feel as though someone was challenging me to a fight. Delicious. Absolutely fucking spectacular. It is violent, it is dirty, it is deeply unnerving. I absolutely love it. The best part? My other sniffs fiend friend unloaded it on me because she loathed it so (she says it smelled like “vetiver ass” on her) – on me, she truly appreciates it.

(Oh, and this is for Jen: We had Caesar salad bib lettuce cups, mini burgers with white cheddar, beef tartare with spicy Thai red curry, kaffir lime oil, sesame crackers, lamb chops and very, very spicy pommes frites for dinner at Lime tonight. So good. Also? Eight dessert “bites” as follows: three mocha creme brulee cups, two dark chocolate-dipped cheesecake pops, one each of the strawberry cream, brownie a la mode and red velvet baby cupcake.)

When: Friday, Feb. 27th, 2009.

What: Ivory dress by M by Madonna for H&M, vintage fur coat. Bra and panty set by Elle Macpherson. (I am in love with her website. The photographs with all the goosebumps and dimples and realness of yes, very trim women, but still more real women than we are used to seeing in ads, especially in lingerie ads, delights me.) Watch, Guess. Earrings from Juniper Tree. Rings, vintage and Laundry by Shelli Segal.

Scent: The very elegant Tubéreuse Criminelle by Serge Lutens, with notes of tuberose, jasmine, orange blossom, hyacinth, nutmeg, clove, styrax, musk and vanilla, from the exclusive range. Let me say this first: When M & I were married at San Francisco City Hall, it was in a cloud of giddy-yet-somber love reverberating through the rotunda and gently raining down tuberose, from my bouquet. I can’t help but sink fondly into this fragrance, even it comes howling like the devil out of the decant. Within moments it stops shrieking like a newborn from the womb and just nestles in, and if angels existed the soft folding of their wings to kneel down and gaze into the eyes of some broken creature with love so abstractly vast it melted your brain to even contemplate it, well, the sound of them would smell like this.

People love or hate this. They are so put off by its vulgar beginnings that they abandon it, or some version of tuberose so watered down it scarcely resembles the real thing has blinded them to the beauty of Criminelle. Some people think it’s mysterious, they marvel at its depth, its can’t-put-my-finger-on-it-ness. Some think it packs sexual power.

I love Criminelle because it tells the truth. Perfect. In every way.

Confession: I promised assorted FFAF readers that I’d post a blog with this dress and the fur, albeit not necessarily together. With the recent days of still chilly air veiled with clear blue skies and the faint stirrings of Spring, I knew my days were numbered where the fur is concerned. (Not that we really ever have fur-worthy days out here, I know you East Coast kittens are rolling your eyes at me so hard they’re loud as eight balls cracking against corner pockets.) So I paired the two, experimented with some trickery in Picasa and Voila!

No new (real) blog post today, but I found the following search terms entered to find my blog today were pretty amusing:

+fat + jeans
skinny jeans
butch lesbians+gym+outfit
what are split ends

I’m guessing they didn’t find what they were looking for! Oh, internets. You strange and amusing and infinite beast.

When: Monday, Feb. 23rd, 2009.

What: James Jeans, H&M dress-as-top, white leather motorcycle jacket from Bebe. Black and white silk scarf from Italy, courtesy of my BFF’s travels there years ago. Stiletto boots from Charles David. (Come back, Butane! I ? you!) Classic silver watch by Guess.

Confession: My new job is making me totally geek out all over again. I bet the last thing y’all would expect is that I previously managed not one, but TWO organization’s networks, IT departments and myriad databases! Some things you never really shake, like being a Linux geek who once only ever used command-line email clients, bits of SQL, the thrill of a perfectly written query and wanting to lick your monitor because your outputs are so so so fucking pretty.  Anyway, after all that having gone dormant in recent years, just like that it’s like BOOM! Oh hai. U R such a fucken nerd!

Scent: Parfumerie Generale’s Private Collection Psychotrope, with notes of cyclamen, violet, jasmine, lilac, woods, black leather, and musk. When you open it up and apply it, it kind of stalk-stomps out of its glass in a dark floral cloud. Shit is moody. It’s supposed to be a flower with leather petals, or some sort leather core tightly wrapped in protective flowers, but the sweetness is lost on my skin, and all that’s left is the leather and stern, powdery violet. M said it smelled like a flower market on my neck, but on my wrists it smelled “like a flower market forgotten in the bottom of someone’s drawer.” The petite was not a fan either! I envy women who can wear this with the sweetness it was meant to embody!

PS. The name of this post came from a very good old friend of mine who is no longer a friend of mine. It stuck. She didn’t! I rather like it. (The quote, that is.) It suits me, although I’m not even sure what one’s mother would say about me, in the way of warnings.

When: Saturday, Feb. 21st, 2009.

What: James Cured Jeans, black short-sleeved shirt and skull-and-crossbones scarf by H&M. Vintage leather gloves and fur coat, assorted studded leather belts and “ice” necklace-as-bracelet from local boutiques. Leather boots by Lamica. Keyhole pendant by Pennyroyal Silver.

Confession: Poor M is sick. It’s been a lazy gray day indoors, and we grazed on a mid afternoon spread of spicy hummus, pita bread, grapes, white cheddar popcorn and cava. Last night we stayed up late to watch The White Stripes on Conan, and woke up today only to venture out for a Trader Joe’s run and some coffee and pastries at Peaberry’s.

I was a little bit surprised at how bloody fragile Jack White was last night – why was he crying? It can’t possibly be due to the occasion. I wonder if it’s because it’s the first time he’s performed with Meg in one and a half years. I know they were paid to do it, but maybe he just didn’t know when they’d ever perform together again, or how it’d make him feel when they did. So emotional! (Some local gals might remember that lesbian party. I do!) Whatever. I have no idea and I’m probably thinking way too hard about it, but it was tendercome and it made me happy.

Here it is, in case you missed it (but be nice!):

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NiuGrOCOjMM&eurl=http://www.nme.com/news/the-white-stripes/42947&feature=player_embedded]

When: Friday, Feb. 20th, 2009.

What: James Jeans, white thermal from The Gap, striped corduroy and taffeta cropped jacket by Avocado. Scarf from Old San Juan boutique, gray booties by Bebe.

Scent: Bois Farine by L’Artisan Parfumeur. Hells bells, I don’t even know what to make of this scent. I don’t like it at all, but it intrigues me. What IS that? Why? It’s all playdoh and imitation vanilla at the beginning, and it takes its sweet molasses ass time drying down to something mildly tolerable, but still…off. There’s a subtle sweetness and heavy woodiness and something foody, which is consistent with reviews by others. The notes are fennel seed, white iris, white cedar, sandalwood, benzoin, gaiacwood and farine flower. I am not for it and it shows real true dedication that I put it on twice just to give y’all this review, because I really and truly cannot stand it. Well!

Confession: I was at my fancy new job today. At home. In my kimono. All day long. It was fabulous. M worked from home, too, so here we were like two sickeningly happy peas in a pod! Hurrah! Here are some photos of my new “office” and the gorgeous blue kimono robe. Also, some short stacks of inspiration that I like to keep handy.

I’m experimenting with a new format! Some time ago, the snapshots on wordpress.com suddenly disabled, preventing y’all from clicking on new pics to get more detail. Some readers complained that they couldn’t see the awesomeness closer up, and that made me sad. As a result, instead of posting a ton of wee pics, I’m going to try and post only 3-4 larger ones. I hope that helps!

Anyway, take the poll below and let me know if you like it!
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[polldaddy poll=1389042]

When: Wednesday, February 18th, 2009.

What: Corduroy pants from Victoria’s Secret, mystery sheer black camisole and striped Italian cardigan, thrifted. Vintage scarf, western-y leather bag by Betsey Johnson and boots by Lamica. Beaded glass necklace from Spoiled.

Scent: Guerlain Angelique Noire. Interestingly enough, it smells similar in some ways to the scotch I review below. The vanilla, I think. It’s got bergamot, angelica and vanilla, goes on as sticky sweet as cotton candy melting on the tongue or warm summer skin, settles into something slightly more creamy and a little bit green, with the slightest shimmer of a bouquet of mulled wine spices. It’s a bit much for everyday wear, not quite enough for evening, so I’d probably wait for the perfect outfit and almost-too-warm spring day for this!

Confession: So absurdly busy with new job, but it’s fantastic and top secret. M is opening our newest bottle of scotch, a Macallan 12-Year, with “hints of sweet cream and vanilla due to aging in used sherry casks from Spain.” It definitely smells sweeter. Not like Sharpie. I’ll have a little taste when I’m feeling brave.

OK, I’m brave now. That was delicious. It was less smooth than the Lagavulin, a great deal less smoky or sooty, yet with somehow more bite along with the sweetness. It burns when you sip it, but it’s so sweet at the same time. I imagine it’s the sherry casks? I don’t care. It’s delicious. I want more. It makes me feel all warm inside. Mm.

SCOTCH! We’re friends again. Hi.