fitforafemme.com

The last hurrah for my bright white linen tunic! I love the pintucks and the rolled-up sleeves. This was a few weekends ago, when M & I decided to go hunting for treasures at the Alemany Flea, and boy did we find treasures! Mine are too numerous to count, though my new brown lace-up booties are at the top of the list, and M’s is featured below.

Here are some hints:

It’s politically incorrect.
It’s made of leather.
It’s vintage.

Any guesses?

This makes no sense, I realize, but there was a half-broken chair just lying in a alley and so I had to finish breaking it. I just had to.

Even Scab the Cat agrees, you see?

Are you still guessing?

You know what else doesn’t make sense? THIS MURAL. What the hell?!?! It’s a near-naked lady riding a snaggle-tooth pig-hippo thing. Maybe she’s even nude. WHO CAN SAY. This lady. Also, her foundation doesn’t match her body. It’s too dark. SWATCH THAT ISH IN NATURAL LIGHT, FOR GOOD GRIEFS! Sigh.

IT’S A HOLSTER! A very handsome holster in supple leather made right in Texas, thanks. And do you know what M did the night she got it? She put it on over her manties (like Whitney, but different), and slept in it. I would awaken lightly in the night and M & I would rotate our spoons in the other direction, and I’d get a lovely whiff of tomboy skin + leather, and do you know what that combination does, ladies?

Yes. Yes, you do.

It makes femmes desperately, inconsolably horny.

Well, not inconsolably. But it’ll take awhile. The consoling and such.

Hi. Console me. Accessory city, good grief! Let’s break this down, femme-style:

Camel-y suede ruched boots: Buffalo Exchange
Leggings: Nordstrom Rack
Tunic: Banana Republic
Belt, Bag, Earrings: Vintage
Mini-purse: Modcloth
Watch: Guess face w/ vintage wristband

M wears a Fyasko shirt with BDG jeans and Etnies sneakers. Aldo sunglasses. Vintage .357 revolver gun holster.

The pics above are from an excellent little block party we stumbled upon after the flea-marketing. Amazing quesadillas fresh from the grill, paired perfectly with homemade sangria, a cheeky poet at an old typewriter writing custom poetry, a nice band, friendly folks, cute dogs and a fierce bean bag competition. Which I won, natch.

Saturday began innocently enough. We woke up, put a batch of cinnamon rolls into the oven for breakfast, watched a bit of BBC’s Pride & Prejudice and set out for the East Bay to find M some skater shoes. While I found an excellent new jacket and an adorable ski cap with hearts on it, M ran into one dead end after another with the shoes. To add insult to injury, Buffalo Exchange sent her into a homo panic and some persnickety baby dyke with no manners and a lot of attitude looked me up and down obscenely (and repeatedly) enough to solicit M’s wrath. It wasn’t pretty, but no blows were exchanged. Having had it with Oakland, we returned to SF and freshened up for our date.

Contigo Kitchen + Cava, a cozy tapas restaurant in Noe Valley with a strangely appealing lime green and firewood motif, didn’t open until 5:30PM, so we popped into a few shops and grabbed a warm-up round of pleasant enough cocktails at Bliss bar. DINNER WAS AMAZING. We had the pork belly, lamb shoulder and patatas bravas, and M & I both tried hazelnuts for the first time. They were delicious, as well as the cheese plate and prosciutto (the sheep’s milk was my favorite). It began to rain and as we wrapped up dinner, a few friends invited us out for drinks at a lesbian party at a gay club in the Castro. Much debauchery ensued, and I almost immediately stripped off the cardigan, leggings and coat when we walked in, it was that hot.

Strangely, we seemed to know everyone there. It was like one big, unending jovial reunion of sorts, and boozy texts to have even more friends join us were successful, making everything that much more epic. We woke up in relatively little pain this morning, but were USELESS in our attempt to gather coffee and other supplies, and yet managed to procure M some skater shoes. FINALLY. They are Vox (and from an awesome skate shop called Cruz on Mission) and she is pleased, so I am pleased. As promised, after lunch (desert fries, yum) she took me to see Nine at the Castro Theater. Neither of us had ever been there before, so it was extra-dreamy and romantical. (I wish I could say the same for the movie!)

The storms kept us from a spontaneous trip to the snow, but hopefully y’all have had equally exciting holiday weekends. One more day to go! Whee!

When: Tuesday, Sept. 30th, 2008.

Femme What: Leopard-print shirtdress by Express Design Studio. Vintage scarf & black suede pumps. Super skinny belt in cocoa by Elie Tahari. Cerulific purse from modcloth.com.

Confession: I wanted sundown light, but twilight on the train tracks worked out just as well. This one was really fun and sort of impromptu; after tidying up the loft and waiting for the juicy pork chops and au gratin to cool a bit before dinner, M & I slipped downstairs to find a good place to take some FFAF photos.

Tomboy What: Black shirt from Alfani, grey plaid slacks from BDG, Kenneth Cole boots, Ben Sherman belt buckle. God Save The Queen!

Tomboy Confession: The femme likes my junk in these pants! As soon as I got home she fussed and fawned, stared and grabbed at it and finally made me climb on top of her. I kid you not. It was most excellent! (ZOMG, I can’t believe she just said all that to y’all. Alas, it is true. A little vulgar, but true. You would grab, too, if it happened to you!)