fitforafemme.com

We’re back, we’re back! It’s true, we nearly made an offer on a Boston home before hopping onto our flight back home, but here we are. Home sweet home.

I’ve been putting more effort into building a wardrobe of staples that can be thrown on in a worry-free hurry in the mornings. It’s tempting to always wear dresses – they always look like you’ve put more thought into getting dressed, and it isn’t hard to add a belt or necklace and a blazer to create a perfect look – but it feels more sophisticated to have the freedom to assemble a smart outfit no matter what the pieces are.

Since I woke up jet lagged and fell a bit behind schedule (thank heavens we showered the night before), I couldn’t spend a long time in my closet and I wanted to be comfortable. When I spied this ultra-soft striped top on its hanger, I reached for a black pencil skirt and plain black pumps, and added the braided belt for some extra texture and color. A chic little ensemble in two short minutes! I don’t actually wear my Evo on my belt like that, I just wanted to show off how awesomely matched it was to my belt.

See the sweet silver infinity necklace below? That was the precious 31st birthday gift from my very best friend – we’ve known one another since the 7th grade!

We managed to do a spot of shopping in old Beantown. We were just around the corner from luxe Newbury Street (where I got my first ever gel mani/pedi – AMAZING), and our friends insisted on a trip to Cambridge’s very impressive thrifting wonderland, The Garment District. There just wasn’t enough time to sample the boutiques and secondhand gems in Jamaica Plain while we were there, but all the more reason for a return trip. We’re hoping for a long weekend in the Fall, just in time for prime leaf peeping season!

I’ll be sure to let you know when I post on the items we got during our travels…

Skirt: Gap
Shirt: Kersh Essentials
Belt: Thrifted
Pumps: Charles David
Loverbird Bag: H&M
Lips: Smashbox Double Exposure Lip & Cheek Color in Double-Time under a touch of Lancome Juicy Tubes in Raspberry Ice!

Confession: I finally, finally, FINALLY took three bags of my closet’s ex-contents to Crossroads this afternoon, a buy-sell-trade with stores all over the country and several in the Bay Area. M was threatening to throw them out and she meant business, but so did I! In addition to walking out of there with a fistful of cash, I traded my castaways for these like-new Marc by Marc Jacobs flats, new dark blue denim shorts with white pinstripes, a cheery new yellow summer top, a new BCBG Max Azria wrap dress in a gorgeous blue print and a pair of very cheeky red canvas peep-toe heels – so Varga girl! I had forgotten all about the satisfying rush one gets when acquiring awesome new clothes “for free!” I still have some great stuff that they turned down (Uniqlo, a pristine Ann Taylor suit, misc. vintage) that I might put up on ebay or just donate. Do y’all ever do the buy-sell-trade, or is it too harrowing / inconvenient / obnoxious?

PS. You’re not nuts – I changed my shoes. The Charles David boots are what I’m kicking high in the B&W! I loved the neon yellow in the belt with the hot pink of the flats too much!

Scent: Christian Dior Diorling power walks out of the decant with a toss of big 80s hair, shoulder pads and a mad, red mouth. It smells like something from my childhood, and being a child of the 80s I suppose this makes sense. In a way it’s very much your staple “perfume” smell. A hint of floral over a stern chypre, just a tinge of something powdery. The leather is elusive at first, but starts to show itself in the dry down. In reality, Diorling was born in 1963, and I’m not 100% sure that this is the original, but I suspect it’s the watered down, pansy reissue. M was taken aback by the top notes, saying it reminded her of the smell of whatever it is that Pine Sol tries to cover up with the scent of pine – not the pine itself. I’m unimpressed, overall and looking forward to a write-up over the weekend of something divine!

Confession: Too many to list. I will start by explaining this outfit. M, H and I all decided that in the battle of all-girl zombie roller derby (too early, high cover charges, no dancing) vs. Cockblock (a party full of moody lesbians and too many foul-smelling straight boys, “New Lesbo” music) vs. Cockfight (a party full of pleasant, chatty homos wearing nice cologne and the promise of 80smashupelectroJOCKSTRAPjams), there was a clear winner.

The dress code called for locker room attire. We did our best. I refused to wear sneakers out dancing. I have boundaries, you know. But I did wear a whistle (which was used mightily throughout the night on racist, sexist, non-PC and other derogatory comments) and a wristband.

Other items of note:

• On the way into the city, we listened to Fleetwood Mac on cassette. CASSETTE! M was PUMPED.
• I left a voicemail for a stranger named “Evan” re: fine whiskeys at the request of a very excited Indian gay
• Everyone we met has worked on one cycle or another of ANTM
• The only person we met that we didn’t like was Kenny G, because he kept dissing “rude immigrant and/or ‘illegals’ lesbians” and the only reason he didn’t get a spiked heel through his balls is b/c his date begged me not to destroy his only chance at sex that night
• Gays we met and loved sided with us against Kenny G, making hilarious saxaphone noises in his direction
• Which forced Kenny G to leave the premises immediately
• We all got awesome t-shirts during the midnight giveaway
• All the gays kept treating me like some very fragile and cute little doll
• One gay had on a real bowtie and pink socks, and another had little elephant socks
• Vegan gays were told to “just give up” on convincing us of their cause; I hissed to H “Don’t tell them I wear fur, god damn it!” because they were v. sweet and nice
• This one’s for Rojo: The DJ played 2 seconds of Ready For The Floor by Hot Chip, and I got so excited, but then he stopped it. H blames this and other things on the iPhone generation aka “The Downfall of Civilization.” (I will remedy this by playing it tomorrow night at LBF Mondays at the Glas Kat!)

Confession: My new best friends are designed for ballerinas, but I am fancy enough to kick it. I needed change for the parking meter at my threading appointment last night, and instead of popping into the bar or a restaurant, I wandered into a sparkly dance boutique. Ooh. I grabbed a pair of awesome tights/leggings that seem extra durable and came in the prettiest shade of cornflower blue for $13, and saw a display case with these enormous, monster-sized hair pins.

Bunheads hair pins. It was love at first sight. I held my breath and took the plunge, hoping against hope that elaborate french twists and the like could be mine, at last. My hair has just enough Asian-y slip and impossible thickness that regular bobby pins and clips are a joke. I got the 3″ pins in brown and they are AMAZING. Seriously. I used four for a messy chignon and a tidy bun, and I am totally, totally shocked that they hold all of my hair in place. At $6 for one dozen pins, they’re a steal.

I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before!

*Boots by Charles David. Too lazy to change in .JPG!

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: Sunday, Dec. 21st, 2008.

What: Skinny pants from Laundry by Shelli Segal, wool turtleneck with suede elbow and shoulder patches by Ralph Lauren Rugby, vintage rabbit fur collar and coat by Blanc Noir. Wool beret from H&M, boots by Charles David. Pretty earrings from Juniper Tree in Berkeley, courtesy of the debonair tomboy.

Scent(s): Burberry London for Men smells divine on me. It’s very woodsy and spicy, like mulled wine and kindling, but it dries with a soft, sweet mist over all of that. Clearly, they only struggle with scents for women, because I love this. I also love port, and that’s one of the key notes: Bergamot, Lavender, Cinnamon Leaves, Black Pepper, Mimosa, Leather, Port Wine, Guaiac Wood, Oakmoss, Tobacco, Opopanax.

Kenzo’s Flower is also pretty nice. It begins almost too strong – I think it’s the rose and violet, though the violet note is definitely true and well-done – and then dries down into something non-offensive and less linear, but it’s neither so dreamy nor sophisticated enough to be very special. Fans of violet (and vanilla, for that matter) should definitely try this, though! The notes are: Wild Hawthorne, Bulgarian Rose, Parma Violet, Cassia, Hedione, Cyclosal, Opoponax, White Musk, Vanilla.

Confession: First, because it’s amusing and might benefit some of you, a graphic instruction on how to walk in heels, courtesy of the SF Chronicle article:

On a truly awful note, there are just 3 towns, about a dozen exits or a 10-15 minute drive (depending on traffic) between this femme and Richmond, CA. Why do we care about Richmond? Well, earlier today I read an incredibly disturbing article about a lesbian, about my age, who was brutally gang-raped there earlier this month. I was so angry, literally shaking as I read the article, and so very sad for her. I hope they find those goddamn sons of bitches FAST, and I hope I get a phone call taking me up on my offer to personally shoot each of them point-blank in the face. Mercy is a terrible waste when it comes to dealing with rapists, in my opinion. The article has more details on the hate crime aspect, as well as the suspects.

It’s fucking awful and I really don’t even know what to say; I hope in time she’s less terrorized by what’s been done to her and that ultimately her happiness, health and will aren’t forever blurred or tainted by it. Those are lofty things to wish for a stranger, but I’m wishing them regardless. That poor woman.

When: Friday, Dec. 5th, 2008.

What: Cable knit turtleneck sweater by Dolce Vita, striped silk skirt by MaxStudio, tights by Old Navy and dark gray and red knit socks by mysterious Italians. Boots by Charles David. I cannot remember where in the hell this cute little hat came from, but it’s adorable and keeps my head very warm, indeed.

Scent: Burberry The Beat, with the following notes: Bergamot, Cardamom, Pink Pepper, Mandarin, Iris, Bluebell, Ceylon Tea, White Musk, Vetiver, Cedarwood. Boy, oh boy. This is nowhere near as complex as they’d like it to be. At best it’s merely pleasant, like clean laundry fresh from the dryer. A soft and sweet scent, scarcely hinting at any maturity or complexity. At worst, it’s like the perfume equivalent of a child splattering paint against an easel and praising it as a masterpiece. In other words, Burberry lies. It does go on with a bit of a zing, right away, and it’s staying power is good, but it just mellows out into something that is nice, but nothing special. (ZOMG, is The Beat an Agness Deyn metaphor?) But it’s good for days when I’m not terribly invested in anything and want to smell flirty and light.

Confession: I took four 5th grade girls to see Twilight this afternoon. My text to the tomboy after getting out says: “Just got out of movie. Holy fuck, I deserve so much alcohol. Seriously. OMG.” When she texted back “What kind?” I simply replied, “Just pour it on my face. I don’t care.” I had no idea what to expect of this movie. I tried to read the first book a week ago and doing so felt exactly the same as waiting in line at the DMV. I know some of y’all are fans, and that’s fine, but all I knew was this: Vampires. Teen drama. Repressed Mormon author channeling sexual frustration into weak plot; nothing steamier than a good make-out.

I won’t “spoil” the movie for you, but just a few things:

1. They are so fucking pasty. It’s bad. It’s like pretending Johnny Depp’s Sweeney Todd face is A-OK in present day high schools of America. LIES. Those freakshow vampire kids would get their pasty asses beat down, every day. EVERY. DAY.

2. It’s not even good pasty. It’s “How sad for that person that they stopped the make-up at the neck” pasty. Wrongful. Tsk-tsk, etc.

3. I swear to GOD that Bella actress studied every single Party of Five and Neve Campbell movie ever made to mimic her exact grimace-y, wincing, on-the-verge-of-awkward-outbursts-or-tears schtick. It was painful. And her co-star, the hunky vampire? Looked like he might vomit during the first half of the movie. The rest of the time I was distracted by his gravity-defying hairdo.  And the sparkles.

4. The only scene I liked was the one that bordered on a campy SNL skit about vampires. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve already done one or will do one soon.