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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

Welcome to my tall glass of water.

Imagine you’re a sweet femme on a clear winter’s day, parked under a tree with your pretty .25mm pen with ink the richest shade of nutmeg brown, scribbling lists into a Moleskine or doing a crossword or sketching squirrels in book margins and pretending the world isn’t tucked under the bright green grass beneath you. Imagine that you look up just as this tomboy saunters by, walks up to the Conservatory of Flowers, finds the doors locked, the little ticket booth with a sign that says it’s closed, scratching her head and furrowing her perfect eyebrows up at the clouds behind you. Imagine the lilt in your gut as a rabble of butterflies sighs and changes tack.

OK, you can stop imagining now. I took these as M walked back to where her mother and I were sitting and talking. Can you believe that in just a month or so, we’ll have been in each other’s lives for six years? It’s unreal, and wonderful.

SPEAKING OF SQUIRRELS.

Look at this little son of a bitch. They were everywhere. I wouldn’t call them aggressive, but they were very bold. We have something to share with you. You might have easily seen it already on BBC3, or read about it from the fine folks over at Autostraddle, but we watched the first season in its entirely over New Year’s weekend, and are super impatient for the second season to air become available in the US. What is it? A new lesbian drama called Lip Service, set in Glasgow with lots of hot dykes with accents and a whole really lot of feelings and chaos and fucking up and fucking. You should totally see it! A good friend tipped us off to the full episodes available for free at Stagevu.com!

I’m not saying Frankie is a squirrel, but…the similarities are there.

The fine folks at Goya Zoya are offering three bottles of nail polish FREE if you like their Facebook page! You make the obscenely difficult choice of picking just three of their nail polishes (though you get loads of freebies if you purchase $30 and $50 in product, just saying), pay for shipping and voila! Hotness you can type with. Their polishes are vegan-friendly, and formaldehyde, toluene, dibutyl phthalate (DBP) and camphor-free, so you can feel good about pampering yourself! I got these awesome shades – what I’m hoping will be a 2011 honeysuckle, a shimmery periwinkle blue, a bright, pink-red poppy and a dirty, bloody red:

In the above pics the tomboy is wearing skinny RSQ NY jeans with a BEN SHERMAN shirt, a PENGUIN tie and BRIARD Italian wool sweater.

Boots by MARC NASON and EDDIE BAUER messenger bag.

If you mashed these colors together, you’d get something like this San Francisco sunset over the Sutro Bath ruins at the Pacific coast. We didn’t get a new dog. That’s just old Laddy, and he likes to hang out and intimidate the fine patrons of Tal y Tara, a real gem tucked away in the Richmond District. Isn’t he precious?

Well, it’s late and I’ve got a busy week ahead of me – a ski bunny summit with a few other femmes at the Lex to discuss plans for an upcoming winter wonderland weekend, an overdue visit from a dear friend, the Original Plumbing Fashion Party, the final meeting for Anna Karenina with my book club – so I’ll leave you with these last few sweeter-than-sugarplums snapshots and bid you goodnight!

Sunbathing on a delightful Saturday, we watched little boys chasing around birds like wee tyrants while the little girls did the smart thing and frolicked in the fountains nearby. We could have dozed here forever.

Femme: H&M dress, Franco Sarto patent leather wingtip pumps, Alice + Olivia for Payless clutch, Elle sunglasses.

Tomboy: Seven for All Mankind jeans, Ben Sherman belt, Penguin tie, Macbeth shoes.

Petite: I LOVE her flats. I bought them for her and wish we could share ‘em. They’re a brand called Me Too. She’s wearing them with Zara jeans she inherited from me. She’s also inherited some old pairs of Blue Cult, H&M and Miss Me denim from me – lucky petite!

Look at all of that vivid, glorious blue! I’m beat after spending a happy morning and afternoon helping a dear friend get settled in her new Oakland flat. It’s gorgeous. Flooded with warm sunlight through windows on nearly every wall of every room (which her two adorable cats love), tray ceilings with crown molding, hardwood floors with pretty inlays and those charming old touches all over, and French doors separating the huge master bedroom from the even larger living room. Just lovely. I AM SO JEALOUS, but incredibly happy for them (her beau arrives in two short weeks, she’s a carpenter and can play a mean banjo).

I was also mere blocks from our old loft today, and I felt pangs, y’all. Pangs of yesterday. Pangs of concrete-sandwiched-between-multiple-layers-of-drywall “party walls.” Pangs of walk-in closets and his ‘n her sinks and well-lit showers and a DISHWASHER and stacked washer/dryer sets, le sigh. Of course, living in San Francisco has its perks and advantages over Oakland, but bang for your buck where square footage and amenities are concerned ain’t one of them.

Laundry by Shelli Segal pants, Chicks On Speed for H&M racerback tank, thrifted vest, vintage shoes and Gucci scarf.

Another day, another outfit. This was my “laundry day” outfit. Far more interesting is that Karen Elson was pretty incredible last night at Cafe Du Nord. Her voice is much prettier onstage than it is on her solo album, which already sounds lovely, but still. Live her voice is haunting, taut, taunting. She chatters on between songs and apologizes profusely for her incessant need to “explain everything,” and then she half-giggles, half-chuckles in an awkward, nerdy way I really loved.

It goes without saying that she looked stunning, but real. I didn’t expect real, approachable. She was wearing a very long peach dress that fit her poorly in some places, but it kind of only made it that much more fetching, and there she was, oscillating between an ethereal, singing (and guitar-playing) angel and a bashful geek! The crowd favorite seemed to be The Truth Is in the Dirt, but I found myself singing along to The Birds They Circle the most today.

I’d write more, my friends, but it’s my turn to make cocktails and I cannot think up ways to use this unopened bottle of Lillet Blanc, can you? Let me know in the comments.

PS. Yes, Jen, my jeggings had faux pockets. In some circles jeggings aren’t considered the real deal unless they have the faux pockets. I’m just torn between shame and comfort on the subject.

PPS. Here’s where you’ll find us this weekend. This time, baby, I’ll be Bieber-proof! (I know, you hate me, you can’t get it out of your head. Oop! Kylie! Sorry about that.)

When: Thanksgiving Day, 2008.

Femme What: Sweater dress by Dolce, green belted trench by Do & Be, brown chevron tights from Old Navy. Skinny brown belt by Elie Tahari, olive green knit socks by some fancy Italians (I can’t remember the brand, sob) and Donald J. Pliner boots. For the trek to the actual river, I wore my awesome “hiking” boots from El Mexico. They are the only boots, aside from my Noconas, that haven’t got a 4″ min. heel!

Femme Scent: Serge Lutens Chêne, of course.

Femme Confession: I hope everyone had a wonderful holiday weekend. My top three thanks, for the record: My precious girls. My resilient health, while it lasts. The dearest, most clever, loyal and affectionate friends a girl could wish for.

Tomboy What: Awesome bear sweater from Express, shirt from Banana Republic (with vintage fleur-de-lys cuff links – a bit much, I KNOW), brown label jeans from Lounge, and brown boots from Harley-Davidson.

Tomboy Confession: I started the day with a completely different outfit: black slacks, a black blazer and the same green shirt (silver and black griffin cuff links from Ben Sherman instead of gold fleur-de-lys ones) and black boots. I only changed because my black boots are too faggy, they provide absolutely no traction! Since the trek down to the river is the absolute highlight of my dogs’ lives, I changed into something more “outdoorsy.”

Second Tomboy Confession: I ate about 100 grapes from the vines to and from the river!

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!)