fitforafemme.com

Awhile ago, AYL requested photos of my closet. Spring hadn’t quite sprung yet, and my closet was a disaster. Full of lovely things, yes, but a disaster. I wanted to mine it, sift through it, tear the weeds out of it and let the sartorial soil begin anew.

Alright, alright – let’s just be honest and cut the bullshit. M made me get rid of things, basically. We are moving in June, after all. Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnneeee.

By then it was okay, because Spring HAD sprung and buoyed me along with it, and while they’re still in bags waiting to be sold or donated, I got rid of three very stuffed large paper bags worth of stuff (say that with a maximum amt. of disdain, like Miranda Priestley in The Devil Wears Prada). Which means y’all, at long ever-lovin’ last, get pics of my closet. A moment of silence, please, for what only has a few more months to live:

God bless the walk-in.
God bless the square footage.
God bless the lighting, which was just repaired.

I WILL NOT FIND THIS IN SAN FRANCISCO, KITTENS. No sirree. I really have no bloody fucking idea what I am going to do, because M wants me to also get rid of The Beast (I am still fighting her on that – “We must wait!” I cry, “We must wait until we see where we will be living because what if we need it? What if it serves as a divider betwixt living and dining? Home office and living? Or maybe…in the room, for my shoes. By God, woman, let’s don’t argue – just WAIT!”).

Before I go off to cry broken, heaving sobs of defeat, here’s a little bit more. We like it up close and personal here at FFAF.

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.