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When Third Eye Blind released their debut album I was just seventeen years old and knocked up, which probably explains why I’ve got an unwavering soft spot for it. I know! It’s terrible. Guilty pleasures, as they go, could be a lot worse. Right? Back me up here, kids, I’ve been drinking. I mean, the moody trifecta of the last three songs! (This is definitely not the 1990s music that’s made a comeback nowadays.)

Somebody mentioned that November is this epic blogging month for bloggers to blog and blog and blog every day all day long! I think maybe bloggers just made it up because they were jealous of all the NaNoWriMo’ing going on, but since writing 50,000 words in 30 days is not the kind of exquisite torture I wish to repeat, I’ll deign to post something here at FFAF every day.

Did you know that God hates bags? True story. Want one? Get yr own at Revel & Riot, they’re amazing. Femmes wanting more visibility? GETCHUSOME for a good cause.

Some posts will be business as usual, some will be about makeup or my mint plant, perhaps one day all I’ll post is a photograph of my Sephora order. Who knows what can happen in a month?! At the end of it all I’ll tally up the sum total of all words in my November blog posts and we’ll all weep at how close I came to writing a blog. I mean a novel.

What the hell is going on here?! If some of you have begun to suspect that we’re homeless and living on random beaches, I wouldn’t blame you. Indian Summer + best proximity to beaches we’ve ever had in our entire lives = THIS POST. When you live 5 minutes away from the beach, you just go there more. I really do genuinely think that this weekend will be the really for real last weekend of fun in the sun, and thank God because I am ready to get down to Fall business. God damn it, there’s a Charlie Brown sweater dress I really, really want to wear already. Enough with the summer dresses!

I’m not gonna lie, though, snuggling with Bird in the sand with the sun shining down, and watching M & the petite scoop up dead stuff is pretty much heaven on earth. So is splashing around in the waves until you can’t feel your toes because the water is icy cold! This is Fort Funston again, by the way.

Let’s see, none of this is very exciting, wardrobe-wise. I’ve just got on a Buffalo David Bitton cotton sundress, my new Tommy Hilfiger sunnies, and my canvas and leather Seychelles boots. The earrings were a gift from a friend. I love them. Big silver hoops with tons of multicolored beads, she brought them back for me from India. M’s got on a pair of ancient swim trunks and can’t remember where from, with a black polo and her Aldo aviators (which are now broken and she’s on the prowl for a new pair). We left the house in such a hurry, so this is probably the least fussy you’ll see us!

That’s all for now, we’re settling into to catch up with American Horror Story, a new favorite!

XO,

FFAF

THIS FACE. Look, I realized that I have all these fantastic photos of M from the summer and probably people should see them. I mean, she’s handsome and do we really need a reason beyond that? No. No, we don’t. I’ll give you little details here and there, but consider this a break from the usual format to sit back and enjoy a little friendly tomboy action.

Top: At the beach house in Dillon Beach. This was actually quite early in the morning, while we waited for coffee to brew. You can’t see the striped pajama pants under the table! The sweater is ancient Express for Men, she says.

Bottom left: Dillon Beach Cafe. There’s a Mike’s Hard Lemonade sitting in front of her (she wasn’t feeling the wine or beer choices) and she’s wearing a shirt from Macy’s.

Bottom right: Dillon Beach! H&M striped t-shirt, awesome captain hat with a Colonel pin.

Dillon Beach and the pups. We’d gone out for a morning walk to explore the beach with the dogs. We discovered the epic sand dunes and did a preliminary search for dead stuff on the shore.

She’s wearing cargo pants, which I hate, and which replaced the ones she threw away last month when they became a health hazard during our Habitat for Humanity outing. Fiberglass bits and such. Had to go. Bye. Then she popped out to pick up a few things for our weekend trip, and came back with these. GREAT. Now she wears them to spite me. She’s wearing them now, actually.

There was something going on at work when chose this ensemble. The weather had cooled a bit – it was probably before our Indian Summer – and she paired jeans with this Kenneth Cole cardigan, a Nautica shirt (obviously one of her favorites) and a new bow tie to dress things up a little bit.

You’ll recognize this dress from my last post, but M has her own thing going on. Levi’s slacks, a Ben Sherman shirt and a polka dot bow tie that we found on Etsy. Her scruffy Aldo shoes. Bird! We’d just come home from Hard French. She required a stiff drink.

This one is here for the beerish smirk and hair, obviously.

Well, I enjoyed that, I hope you did too. Sometimes you just need a mega-dose of tomboy, you know? Mm hmm. I bet you do.

Love,

FFAF

Fun times at the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk with the tomboy! I’ve been coming here with my family since I was a wee tot waddling around in a ruffled swimsuit. Once all grown up, I was often down here on weekends with the petite on my hip, hanging out with my BFF (she went to UCSC). After the tomboy and I met, we’d hit up the beach during the summer for an annual party thrown by some of her friends, so it’s been a lifetime of shenanigans, really, right here on this sandy shore.

If we seem awfully dressed up for the beach, it’s because we made an impromptu, post-wedding trip on the way home. A nice walk on the beach turned into M pulling me through the incredibly strong current of a miniature inlet to get to this craggy rock, followed by popcorn and churros and tickets to go on the immensely creepy Haunted Castle ride and I’m sure I’m forgetting something else. It was so much fun!

I love that M just rolled up her fancy pants to have at the waves. It was such a beautiful, early evening! From the roller coasters and carnival games to cotton candy and funnel cakes, it’s one of those wonderful places that never, ever seems to change.

This is my frilly Tibi dress, paired with a vintage belt and Seychelles platform sandals. The necklace and earrings set belonged to my grandmother and was given to me by my mother for Christmas last year. Same old Ray-Bans.

The tomboy is wearing Ben Sherman corduroy slacks, a Nautica dress shirt and Rooster bow tie. She’s wearing Aldo sunglasses, too.

(These were all taken with our cell phones, hence the so-so quality, but the photo below is my favorite!)

Hope you guys are enjoying the weekend!

XOXO,

FFAF

Since our tour of the UK and Ireland was organized solely around booze (London Dry gin, scotch and Jameson/Guinness), it’s only fitting that we return to the original theme here. Our new friends agreed to come along with us to tour the Old Jameson Distillery in Dublin, just over the Liffey from where we were staying, on our last day in Ireland.

We showed up and kind of just marveled at the slick old-meets-new feel of the place. Located in Smithfield at the Bow Street Distillery since 1780, you walk through the front and are faced with an enormous historical copper pot still, but enter the museum and visitor’s center where it’s all gorgeous exposed beams and brick, very open and spacious, with a massive bar in the corner and see-through glass floors – which give a unique glimpse into the belly of the distillery beast beneath your feet!

Even though actual production now takes place in Midleton Distillery in Cork, the original Dublin distillery has been painstakingly restored to give folks a look at what it was like when Bow Street was an operating distillery, pumping out an impressive one million gallons of whiskey annually at the turn of the 19th century.

Fun fact: Vatting (or blending) still happens in Dublin!

We bought our tickets and went upstairs to the restaurant for a quick nibble and some refreshment, and next thing we knew it was our turn! The tour begins in a little theater, where you get a bit of history about Mr. Jameson  and whiskey in general, and how it differs from other varieties around the world. It’s here where the guide selects a lucky few for a special post-tour tasting, and guess who was picked in our group? Of course (and absolutely as it should be), it was M!

An awesome start.

After the short film, we were guided through a series of fascinating rooms depicting scenes from the seven stages of whiskey making, from malting to milling and maturation. Many featured hands-on pieces from the old distillery, others adorably staged miniatures of what it once looked like, with tiny workers and menacing cats lurking in corners and everything!

It was a great tour that moved at a nice, brisk pace, and it felt just as appropriate and entertaining for newcomers to whiskey as to aficionados. We definitely recommend it. Can’t wait to return to Ireland to visit the one in Cork…

I’m wearing a dress from Zara with an H&M belt and my vintage brogues. M’s wearing H&M shorts with a vintage cardigan layered over a plain white dress shirt and a striped cotton t-shirt also from H&M, and her Aldo shoes. Can you spot the pin on her cardigan? This quirky older gentleman at a vintage shop made them – they’re wee figurines of football (soccer) players, and as soon as she saw them she had to have one!

Wrapping up Edinburgh with a tour of – what else? – the famed castle. It was really magical. We spent hours just wandering around, soaking up the incredible history and completely foreign architecture. In addition to housing the Scottish National War Memorial (that was probably our very favorite part) and National War Museum of Scotland, it also contains Edinburgh’s oldest surviving building, early 12th century St. Margaret’s Chapel.

Fun with cannons! Contrary to how it may look, we were there on a fairly crowded day! For the most part it wasn’t bad at all, but in some popular attractions, like the Stone of Destiny and Honours of Scotland, the lines got long and moved slowly. All to glimpse the crown jewels, sceptre and sword, which date back to the 1400s and 1500s, and the stone upon which Macbeth’s stepson sat when he was proclaimed King of Scots in 1057! Definitely worth it. The reason you’re not seeing more photos of that sort of thing is because often photography was prohibited (not that that stopped some tourists, which horrified us!).

Some well-behaved interior shots. I wanted to take a break and thank y’all, from the very bottom of my heart, for all of your kind, supportive, infinitely wise advice for Violet. You’re truly amazing!

It’s not Buckingham, but even the Edinburgh Castle has a changing of the guards! It’s a lot more low key and folks just kind of cluster around to look on and it’s very officious and whatnot.

It wouldn’t be fair to leave Scotland with at least a few of these silly tourist shots, would it? Nah. I’m not sure what you call these little holes in the castle walls for looking or shooting or dumping things through, but M squished herself into one. It was a long way down! Let’s all be glad she didn’t fall out. (The flask was in her pocket.) KIDDING, KIDDOS. I’m just kidding.

I poked my little head through one at M’s insistence, and she stuck hers through one to take that picture up there. Cheeky! I don’t know if it even needs mentioning, but I will say whether we were strolling around hand-in-hand in the castle, down the streets, or nuzzling in bars or restaurants, nobody batted an eye at the affectionate lesbian couple. We didn’t expect anyone to, but it’s always nice to know that’s the case in practice. In case anyone was wondering.

Some lovely scenic shots of Edinburgh’s Old and New Towns, as well as the Firth of Forth out there in the distance. And below, some more goofy, silly parting shots. Hope you enjoyed them!

For the record, I’m wearing my vintage shoes with Asos trousers, a ruffled tank from H&M, and a French Connection for SEARS jacket. The sparkly necklace is from Banana Republic.  The tomboy’s wearing a vintage cardigan with Zara trousers and Aldo shoes, and her Dior Homme eyeglasses.

That’s it, then! Off to Dublin next!

Cheers,

FFAF

We’re back with more travel posts, but still in London. Standing on the Millennium Bridge, happy as clams, with the charming and wonderful Cari Campbell behind the camera. We were so lucky to have a generous friend to show us all around and keep us company during our trip! It really is the best possible way to visit a new destination.

All sorts of post-London Pride shenanigans. We parted ways with the parade and hopped on the tube to the London Bridge station, where we planned to meet Cari at the nearby Borough Market. We hadn’t yet been bewitched by the streets of Edinburgh’s Old Town, so walking around little curved cobblestone beauties like Stoney was quite a treat! After stopping at a fancy chocolatier and to sample the most delicious Manchego outside of Spain, we meandered along the Queen’s Walk past Southwark Cathedral, The Golden Hinde and the Tate, toward our high-rise dinner on the Thames.

We ran into these lovely little white birch trees – just like in the Maximilian Hecker song, Birch! Speaking of swans, London has a great deal of them. SO MANY SWANS. (Cue the tomboy trilling “Swans are cunts!” I’m surprised there isn’t a t-shirt by now.) At top left is the Tate Modern, of course, and then on the lower right you’ve got the bridge guiding the eye toward St. Paul’s Cathedral.

Schrödinger’s Cat Lives? – the beach at Gabriel Wharf.

Have I discussed my outfit? The only full-length shot is way down at the end of this post, but it’s a kicky little Free People dress that I love, with its little Missoni-esque chevron pattern. I wore it with an antique necklace from India, a whole mess of bracelets, my Ray-Ban aviators and comfy, sky-high Seychelles wooden platforms. M paired some nice denim with her trusty grey Aldo lace-ups, an Izod shirt and her Anchors Away! bow tie from Me & Matilda. Her belt is from H&M and I got her this smart leather messenger bag from Target a few years ago.

After that wonderfully scenic walk in the sunshine and warm weather, we headed up to the 8th floor of OXO Tower. We were early and fortunate enough to be shown to a table in the lovely, airy bar while we waited for our dinner table to open up. After a sensational (no, truly, SENSATIONAL) round of cocktails and appetizers, we were led outside to the terraces where our corner table was set up overlooking the river.

It was gorgeous! The sun’s beams fell like glory through the sparse and silvery clouds, we ordered a bottle of Harvey Nic’s champagne, because how on earth could we not? and watched the people below on the tiny beach. The food was divine, the conversation lively – speaking fondly of San Francisco and excitedly about London – and the only thing that would have been more perfect is if Cari’s love had been there with us, too. (She was in New York for a wedding!) That concoction on the lower right is a clever twist on the classic English trifle – strawberry shortcake, Pimm’s gelatin with cucumber and mint, and vanilla ice cream.

We left OXO with the most pleasant buzz, the sun drifting down like molasses (have we talked about the fact that the last light of day doesn’t truly vanish until 10pm or 11pm at night – or how we miss it so?!), and walked over the Millennium Bridge into the mostly deserted area of Holburn, where we caught a taxi to get to a lesbian party I still don’t know the name of.

I can’t even recollect the neighborhood we were in or the street the club was on, but there was a big red glittery heart with CARWASH written on it in a 1950s script hanging outside, so there you go. There we met up with some of Cari’s friends, ran into the ones we’d made the night before at Candy Bar in SOHO, and spent the night hopping between the two dance floors, one with pop music and one with house music. I taught the bartenders how to make me a Tom Collins, bless their precious hearts.

Look at these two! So handsome, those smiles full of trouble. The sun was already starting to light up the sky again when we finally stumbled home to our hotel in Kensington. It was a really, tremendously brilliant day.

More to come, I promise! Next up shall be Sunday UpMarket, our turn on the London Eye and Buckingham Palace!

XOXO,

FFAF

PS. Nicolette, my darling, I’m not doing this to hurt you, I swear! ?

I’ll just let y’all drink that in for a second (but only just). I can’t even begin to imagine what I might have done, as a tender young femme, if I saw a sight such as this strolling along the beach at sunset one blustery May night years and years and years ago. At the very least, I would have pinched myself.

Tonight, we are celebrating the solar eclipse, the beginning of M’s birthday month, and the eve of summertime as marked by the petite’s last day of school, which is tomorrow  - but mostly the beginning of M’s birthday month. I found 10 of the most incredible vintage cocktail glasses during a lunchtime jaunt to a nearby thrift store, and upon coming home I promptly mixed up a round of Chapel Hill beverages, with a bottle of Hudson Manhattan Rye, Grand Marnier, and fresh-squeezed lemon juice. (We haven’t got any oranges, so the orange peel garnish was missing, alas.) I made her favorite meal and we dove into a tiramisu for dessert.

We’re now into a completely impromptu cocktail comprised of bourbon, triple sec, Domaine de Canton, a splash of orange mango juice, and a tiny little float of lemon soda. It tastes like something we’d order at Smuggler’s Cove. In short, it’s delicious.

If you haven’t yet figured it out, these are the butch companion photos to Sunday’s post! She’s wearing her Dior glasses again – something is wonky on the prescription with the Warby Parkers, so we have to get them fixed – and a very natty outfit, why I can almost see her fishing off the dock if only we had a tackle box and things with which to fish. She would fish in a tie the same way I’ve shown up to camp in stiletto boots.

How do we feel about fishing? I used to fish quite a lot when I was younger. In rivers and lakes and sometimes even wading for crawdads very many years ago. By far my favorite place to fish was tucked into a great lot of big rocks teeming with snakes on the Stuart Fork River in the Trinity Alps. Why am I even talking about this? Maybe because M’s favorite new thing is that ridiculous fool on River Monsters.

Pants: Zara
Shirt: Hurley
Sweater Vest: H&M
Tie: Calvin Klein
Shoes: Aldo
Eyeglasses: Dior Homme