fitforafemme.com

When: Friday, Nov. 21st, 2008.

What: Velvet “Black Fairy” dress with ribbon trim and embroidery by Free People, white cotton blouse with cascading black satin bows and black bow headband by H&M, peacock tights from modcloth.com. Onyx pendant, vintage. Charles David ‘Butane’ boots.

Scent: Serge Lutens Chêne – Most beautiful and exquisite scent, I love you I love you I love you, and I cannot possibly live without you. I love this so much that I spent an ungodly amount earlier this year to buy the exclusive Paris bell jar, pictured below. (The bell jars can only be purchased in Paris or strictly shipped within Europe from the Paris boutique, as I understand it. The exports, including the export exclusives, are in rectangular bottles.) The notes include cedar crystals, wood sap, black thyme, immortelle, beeswax, silver birch, rum absolute and tonka bean.

M says that it smells like the rebirth of a forest after it’s been burned down. I suppose one of the reasons that I am so fond of it – aside from the fact that it is perfectly executed – is that it reminds me of walking through Dry Creek’s vineyards on Thanksgivings at the Russian River. When the air is cold and still and the sound of the river is close by, recently emboldened with late Fall rain, coursing through its bends and curves between ravines and wide panels of gray rock. The towering trees covered with moss, the oaks and cedars and lizards scurrying underfoot, and smoke from fires burning in happily filled homes on nearby acres all mixing into this calm and perfect cocktail of scent in my memory.

Chêne captures all of that. It captures those most happy and content of days that have endured through all twenty-eight years of my life. Since I am in so many ways an orphan, I can climb into Chêne like it is “home.” The staying power is amazing and requires a light hand. I’m getting up the nerve to layer it with some of my florals, too. I disagree with the majority who think this isn’t a very wearable scent, or that it leans toward the masculine side.

Confession: So, my fancy outfit! Last night there was a birthday party for a dear friend of mine at Metro, a gay bar in the Castro. It turns out the old Metro is now the Lookout, and the new Metro is an unmarked, pleasant hole-in-the-wall further down on Market St. So, gift in hand, I trudged past Cafe du Nord (a wonderfully dirty-luxe and intimate place to see a show) and the Lucky 13 and finally found it. I had a good time and got to catch up with folks I haven’t seen in a long while. I also had a fascinating conversation with a 40-something bisexual male (currently with an adorable boyfriend) and some gays as a sort of follow-up to BCP’s Sugar Walls conversation on bisexual women in the lesbian community. More on that later! I’m getting back into bed with my loverbird…

When: Tues., Nov. 18th, 2008.

What: Little soft jersey cotton dress by Monteau (um, the only legitimate place I could find them was on some rand-o Lucky editor), black knee socks with Charles David ‘Butane’ boots. Pendant from Claire’s. Feather headband from Target. Oversize white leather clutch with black / silver croc stripes, vintage.

Scent: Film Noir by Ava Luxe. I wore this last week, right after I had previously been wearing Serge Lutens Chene. It wasn’t fair, really, to either olfactory beauty. Film Noir is described as “a gorgeous leather fragrance with sueded notes that is sure to kindle your darkest desires,” with black leather, Morrocan rose, bergamot and tonka bean notes. Meryl Streep might wear Film Noir. It’s soft yet stern, warm and mysterious, it just kind of glides effortlessly over the skin, luring you around the next dark corner. But gaily. It’s not very long-lasting, but it certainly doesn’t wear off anywhere nearly as quick as CB I Hate Perfume’s Black March, for instance.

Confession: My internet friends enabled me to go shopping today. My wife enabled me to go shopping today. (“Can you pick up cutting boards at TJ Maxx? You know, the one that carries DIOR.” “Sure, babe! Just the cuttings boards [and Dior]?” “Oh, you know, hot stuff…since you’re there and all.”) Maybe the conversation didn’t go like that at all, but whatever. The most beautiful thing happened to me today in the form of a XL boys cardigan from Buffalo by David Bitton. You will see! It cost me SEVEN DOLLARS and it is truly amazing. I know it’s mean to say that and not post it, but it’s crucial that I sit my family down for homemade tacos, beans and rice. Like, now.

When: Sunday, Nov. 2nd, 2008.

What: Jonathan Saunders cotton mini dress for Target’s GO Int’l, mustard yellow tights by DKNY, navy blue socks from Target. Black wool coat by Blanc Noir and black stiletto boots by Charles David. Captain’s hat belongs to the tomboy, and was purchased at the notorious Hat Guys shop on Broadway.

Confession: Today, after a lazy Fall back morning with coffee, bagels slathered in peanut butter and a pint of Odwalla Superfood (“swamp juice,” as M likes to call it), we all piled into the car to head to Oakland’s Democrat HQ, where the No On Prop 8 folks are set up as well.

They needed volunteers to flyer homes in Oakland districts to counterattack the straight-up LIES that the Yes On Prop 8 folks had spread around in the days prior, so we spent the afternoon in a neighborhood far, far away from ours. M & I had a few conversations with folks also opposed to Prop 8 and already voting for Obama, and we encountered several No On Prop 8 signs already in windows! The most hostility we encountered was from vicious Dobermans and the like, so it felt great to knock out about two dozen square blocks. Yes, I totally wore this outfit, but we did stop to quickly fetch me a pair of flats since we had no idea we’d be trekking all over the San Antonio District.

M is phone banking for a few hours on Tuesday morning, and I plan to either ditch work to volunteer or pitch in for a few hours in the evening. Go, marriage equality, go-go-go!

When: Tuesday, October 7th, 2008.

What: Grey pinstriped trousers by Closét, purple sweater from Pop, black top from H&M. Black boots with buckles by Charles David, purple clutch from Fred Flare and belt from Tristan. Fancy wooden toy gun from an antique shop on Main St. in Alameda (belongs to the tomboy).

Confession: Look, I’m going on five hours of sleep after seven hours of Ketel One and a pack of Djarum Blacks. Half a pack! I was in no mood for a debate tonight, but I listened dutifully whilst making homemade nachos in the kitchen. Hence the faux pow-pow! (Hey, someone has to stand in for Palin, that gun-toting hag!)

THAT ONE, McOldz!

I have nothing left to give. Enjoy the photos!

PS. I know I’m holding the gun wrong. If M took me shooting like she promised me years ago when she was trying to get in my pants, I’d be holding it right. Also, if you’d like to take me shooting, pls. sign up here.

When: Thursday, July 3rd, 2008.

What: As in Oz, y’all. Gay. Skinny jeans (with zippers!) from Zara. Soft, pretty green plaid top from Pretty Penny on College. It hasn’t got a label, has a lace-trimmed bib front and the pretty white panel (like an apron) at the bottom, and I adore it. Charles David boots. Mossy satin ribbon from Papyrus! Sundry bracelets from Juniper Tree and my secret boutique near my workplace.

Confessions: My stupid, intrusive co-workers were just beside themselves over my pigtails today. They said I looked like Dorothy. They said they were glad that “pigtails have come back around to being in style”. I wanted to punch them all in the face, but instead I blithely noted how asinine red shoes with a green top would be in July, of all months, and that I was afraid I had to excuse myself immediately. Why are co-workers so fucking obnoxious? Why do they insist on making conversation when one is so clearly uninterested in anything of the kind? FUCK YOU, COLLEAGUES! You’re goddamn obnoxious. Especially the pervy bastard who asks if I’ve “changed my hair again” at least every other fucking day. Die in a fire™.

Confession I: On a whim (I get those often and at the most inopportune times), I ducked into a wee thrift shop in the lush little town that I work in. Toward the back of the store, swaying seductively on a peg amongst lesser belts, Sheeba purred at me. Sheeba is a super fierce fucking hot tranny mess, betch. Seriously. You know you can’t fuck with this:

Sheeba is made from a faux reptilian, black leather and a massive faded gold cheetah buckle. I am a little scared of Sheeba, and you should be, too. Oh hai, I can haz monument moment:

When: Thurs., June 12th, 2008

What: BCBGirls dress tied with a black silk scarf, baby fishnets from Target, boots from Charles David. I fondly refer to the pictured bag as The Beast, because it has the capacity to fit, say, my 40 lb. puppy inside of it and things are often hopelessly lost in its giant, cavernous depths. I’d make a vulgar vadge joke here but that seems cruel to The Beast, whose proper name is the Union Johnson Hobo by Betsey Johnson. Bling:

I took a close-up of my Pennyroyal pendant! Also pictured below, a pair of beloved earrings from a boutique I score retail crack at shop at in the town where I work.

Confession II: I found a crispy, striped dress shirt in pink by Thomas Pink for $5! Bombass.