fitforafemme.com

F A N C Y.

I had a lot of feelings about wearing this dress (100% raw vintage silk, can we talk?) to a filthy music festival in dusty old Golden Gate Park, let me tell you. Even M had feelings about it. But you know what? WHEN ELSE, DAMN IT? What myriad other days has this wanker San Francisco summer presented me with, days that scream “Go on, child, wear head-to-toe silk if you like, let this breeze ruffle the hem, it’s the summer of love, let your curls all fall down, I adore you”? That would be basically none. Carpe diem, kittens, and trust that I worked this in all my backstage glory.

Nevermind the girls sitting in the hut behind me, they were just taking refuge from the late morning breeze to roll some joints. “Wait, there’s people in there,” M whispered when I started to prance on over. “So what,” I sighed, and our friend was all, “They can leave if they don’t like it.” I was real sweet though, I warned them that I was just taking a few photos and made sure they didn’t mind. They had a lot of weed. I’m pretty sure I could have pissed on the side of it and they wouldn’t have noticed, anyway. KIDS THESE DAYS, and their substances.

Long story short, I felt that it was the third and final day of the festival, the sun was shining, and the dress and I would both survive. I was right! Did I tell you that Vanessa Hudgens (of HSM fame) was there on Saturday? We saw her during The Arctic Monkeys (I now own two of their albums, by the way), looking surly but cute, and wearing a spirit hood and a dress that definitely hadn’t survived the day. Fringe. Such a shame. We also saw a giddy, rugged-looking KAREV (Grey’s Anatomy, Justin Chambers, ringing any bells?) rushing out of the VIP area on Sunday night.

We started the day early with a round of coffees and fresh baked croissants courtesy of one kind Canadian, and got to the park in time to see Charles Bradley, who after sixty years of life is just now hitting his stride as an incredible soul singer. It was a wonderful, wonderful way to start off a glorious Sunday. We headed to Sutro to make sure we were nice and early for the tUnE-yArDs, who drew an insanely huge crowd for so early in the day, and didn’t disappoint fans (and certainly made new ones).

We meant to catch Latryx and Lyrics Born / Lateef, but somehow ended up taking a very long lunch (Korean tacos and pulled pork sandwiches from Maverick) with a detour back to VIP sanctuary, and didn’t end up back at Sutro until Julieta Venegas, who brought the lovely and talented Ana Tijoux onstage with her for a song or two. Determined to secure our excellent spot up close and stage left for Beirut, we ended up warding off a potential fence-climber during Little Dragon’s mostly yawn-worthy (yeah, I said it) set, and just relaxed and drank and told stories while I watched the clock for 6:50PM to roll around.

I don’t know how to describe the way I feel about Beirut’s music. It sounds the way love feels. To me. There are many ways to love, many kinds of love to love, there are myriad themes on love and there are love’s terrific and terrible highs and lows, and there they are, in every heartbreaking, beautiful note they play.

There was a moment, before they started but after Little Dragon ended, when the crowd surged something awful and nothing felt right, and I actually considered leaving. I’ve never seen Beirut live and if it wasn’t going to be perfect then I didn’t want it at all. Then something magical happened.

A backstage bracelet was slipped onto my wrist and I wandered away from our little group, was granted access to go behind the security guy policing the gate, and walked around the side of the stage and right smack into Beirut. They’d been forming some kind of pre-show circle, literally moments from taking the stage, and I turned a blind corner into the middle of them all huddled under the massive stage beams. For a split second they stood around me before some awkward shuffling around to let me through, and I stood there sort of dumbfounded but thankfully silent, and completely unable to believe my eyes. Sure, it’s a wee bit silly and kind of fangirl, but for a beat my little world stood serenely still.

Eventually I made my way backstage while they were playing, and I waved to M in the crowd (she saw me right away and I could see her grinning and waving back, pointing so our friends could see, too). How could the show be anything less than perfect after that?

I only stayed backstage for a few songs, because I couldn’t bear not having M right next to me for it, but I was able to snap some pics. Look at that sweet face singing his tender heart out! Lucky for us, they’ll be back in October, and I can’t wait to see them again.

Dress: Winter Kate
Leather: Elie Tahari
Bag: Freebird by The Sak
Necklace: Mariele Ivy
Silver Cuff: Made Her Think
Earrings: Asos
Shades: Ray-Bans
Boots: Nine West

Love,

FFAF

 Backstage awesomeness*! ZOMG!
*This is basically the only photo (and there are a few) from backstage where you can’t tell I’m all teary-eyed** and delirious.
**If you think that’s bad, you should see me at a Stars show. I am inconsolable.

CONFESSION: Last night, I tried on two of those POS wanker Victoria’s Secret fragrances I got forever ago, with a pair of super soft, sexy pajamas (free slippers with purchase!). One was so gross and cloyingly sweet that M described it as “someone trying to layer on perfume over dirty ass” and I simply referred to it as a whore’s bath perfume. Seriously. I refuse to even bequeath it to anyone since it screams CRUSTY SLUT + EXCESS BRONZER. It’s called Ooh La La, but is more like Oh, Hell Nah. I really hope none of you like it, because I’m not going to feel bad and I’m not going to take it back, either! (Damn it, I just realized that I reviewed OLL in late December of last year, in Shovels & Lye. At least I’m consistent!?)

The Fragrance was No. 2, boasts top notes of crushed leaves, freesia, mandarin (What the fuck kind of leaves? Isn’t that sort of key?) and does begin rather citrus-y and benign. I had to give it another go-round today because Ooh La La sent my senses into a diabetic coma, but it doesn’t seem to change my opinion of it as a rather boring and one-hit wonder scent. Not even a good hit, either. Something Milli Vanilli-ish. (If I spelled that wrong, it’s b/c I refuse to google it for the proper spelling. Fakers don’t get my hits! I have standards.) It’s not offensive, just boring. Very un-sexy. For instance, Laura Bush should totally check this out. It’s perfect for her.

From the Dream Angels collection comes Wish, which is TOTALLY FUCKING AWESOME if you want to smell like orange sherbet ice cream and baby powder, and reminds me of back in the day when my folks would take us to Baskin Robbins on special occasions, and someone would be like, “Oh, you should have some water,” and I’d be all, “The fuck for? I drink my water in Kool-Aid, man. Step off, my peanut-butter-and-chocolate ice cream cone is melting.” Or, you know, changing diapers. Also, it irks me that something so vile has to share the same word with a stellar The Cure album, but what are you gonna do?

Someone at the VS fragrance think tank needs to ground themselves from citrus for, like, a year, and then get back to me.

PS. Ain’t much to say about this outfit ‘cept there’s a mean cold snap this week and mama needs to go SHOPPING. I do, however, have a new brown sheath dress that is super Joan Holloway and was recently procured at the thrift store for FIDDY MOFO CENTS, YO. Holla / Coming Soon.

PPS. What the hell is up with the Christian Siriano for VS make-up collection? When the cover model on the website looks kind of rough in all your war paint, dude, you need to step up your game. Do any of y’all have it? Is it good? Not that I’m in the market…my quick beauty fix lately has been a dusting of Cargo bronzer as a wash over the entire lid, with heavy-handed mascara at the lash base instead of eyeliner. Fresno and Coral Beach are my favorites right now, but it seems the former is discontinued. SOB.

PPSS. Lips? Besame’s Red Velvet. Creamy and subtle red for when MAC’s Russian Red is too much damn work.

CONFESSION: Hurrah, hurrah for holiday weekends! Guess what?! WE ARE GOING TO DO SWEET AND BLISSFUL ABSOLUTELY NOTHING! Having been going relatively non-stop since we moved in, I cannot even begin to express how delighted I am that we’re going to lounge about in our pajamas well after noon, take long, shuffling strolls through the park like old people, giggle through messy, langorous brunches and dig our hands deep into the dirt of our wee urban garden. It’s going to be wonderful. We’re starting by heading to one of our favorite places in the Mission for lunch, The Liberties, because their happy hour is to die for and they are friendly.

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Confession: It has come to my attention that when it comes to music, I am a fast sucker for a good horn section. Triumphant horns, despondent horns, horns that shout jubilation through a downpour of misery gasping for air – give it all to me, I’ll take it. Most recently it’s manifested in Beirut’s entire discography and Carina Round‘s new song, Backseat, from her newly released EP “Things You Should Know.” (The EP is kind of all over the place – I’m hearing Evanescence and Mazzy Star and she’s used to getting a great deal of PJ Harvey comparisons, as well – but she’s got quite a pretty, clear-as-a-bell voice. Plus, she’s really cute!) Anyway, it’s my favorite off the EP, with a lovely crescendo of horns toward the end. I adore it. I get into the same sort of helpless state in the last bit of Bright Eyes‘ Nothing Gets Crossed Out, which has got horns and much, much more. Songs that level you, you know? I’ve been leveled. So that’s how this post got named what it did. She sings those words like she’s just seen the last sliver of her life’s love walk off into the sunset, never to return, and she’s just sort of whimpering it into the wind, not quite sure whether or not she can stay upright. I told you. (Well, what would you sound like?) Onto cheerful things!

Scent: Italian invasion! There isn’t too much to say about Gianni Campagna’s Gelsomino. It’s wild Italian jasmine, so sultry and a little bit bossy or overbearing. Exquisite, but can be overwhelming and can knock you over with one sniff! In a good way, I think, for something this concentrated and intense, you really do have to apply it very sparingly and let it just sort of waft around you. Others get notes of cedar and clean sea air, even bergamot, but I’m not sure. It might also be for men, but I cannot imagine it.  Here’s some pretty wild jasmine to look at AND the actual bottle.

PS. My sewing machine is supposed to arrive today! Tonight! NOW! I’m going to run downstairs now and check.

Confession: I’d sent in my RSVP for the Lush Grand Opening Party at Bay Street two weeks ago and needed a tub of Dream Cream, so M & I dragged our happily spent bodies from bed and set out on the day. After appx. 30 seconds of crowded Lush store air, M made a beeline outside and stood like Cool Hand Luke against the glass window while I shopped. Remembering the goodie bag that came with a $40 purchase, I snagged a tub of Ultra Bland cleanser and one of their lip pots, which got me the following 100% free (well, you know): Olive Branch solid perfume, an Avobath bomb, a bottle of Smitten hand cream (so delicious) and a Pop In The Bath bubble bar. Plus, they handed out little Lush cookies for nibbles.

And I know it’s SO last summer, but FINALLY a pair of aviators that don’t make me look like Nicole Ritchie. Whee!

And then we bought even MORE Girl Scout cookies, as you can see.