fitforafemme.com

Howdy, strangers! There are no words for my excitement over this new addition to my wardrobe: the puffer vest. While some things can be plucked from the tomboy’s side of the closet, the femme tomboy puffer isn’t exactly one of them. (Believe me, I tried. Shh, don’t tell! She’s very possessive of hers.) When I saw this one by Ralph Lauren, I fell in love. It was the perfect outdoorsy shade of green, and really doesn’t betray itself as being for her aside from being quite nicely fitted. It makes such a difference! With the campy finishing touches of the chunky wood and rough rope toggles, who the hell needs fleece?! (Answer: Bloody no one, that’s who.)

Then…at the risk of sounding like an advertisement, when I spied two little boy’s shirts for $20 apiece over the weekend (also Ralph Lauren), I snapped them up, too! LAYERING! With weather that’s finally started to behave like a proper winter, any day now I’ll be tucking my fully lined leggings into rain boots and traipsing through city streets like a real live lumberlady! Hooray!

Two of my favorite things: Tornado Recovery t-shirt from My Shirt Helps (I made some minor modifications) and the Otter-Messer sailor’s knife M slipped into my stocking this Christmas. It’s German, has a carbon steel blade and brass anchor inlay. I use it all the time. I get so mad when I reach for it and realize it didn’t make it through the last purse change or it’s still sitting in my jeans pocket on the bedroom floor at home, etc.!

True story: When M first met me, I carried a knife everywhere. I slipped it into a boot or my clutch or a pocket,  and while I still have it (it’s a lot bigger than this one), it’s been awhile since I’ve carried it. It feels good to have one on me again!

The outdoorsiness of the outfit required rigorous testing, obviously. I adore the huge green ring, which is a total treasure I found at the Crossroads in Rockridge (Oakland). My manicure goes with it quite well, too – a few coats of Zoya’s Cynthia (“smoky, blackened peacock teal” blue) with a layer of OPI Gold Shatter on top! Close-up you can see the different colors, but from a distance it looks like a gilded green.

What else is new? The petite and I did mother/daughter manicures and pedicures at a cute little Potrero Hill salon on a lovely sunny day, both M and I had routine haircuts at our respective places of grooming (Watermelon Sugar and F.S.C. Barber), and we’ve had a few dreamy little dates and nights out and about. We saw Pariah, which was really so good and well done and I urge you all to see it if you haven’t already, and we’ve surrendered to the charms of Downton Abbey, a new addiction on PBS.

After a bit of research, we’ve also added a handful of towns to our Massachusetts shortlist, should the final decision lean that way – we’re supposed to commit one way or another exactly two weeks from now!

Denim & Vest: Denim & Supply Ralph Lauren
Tornado Recovery T-Shirt: My Shirt Helps
Tartan Poplin Shirt: Ralph Lauren
Suede Ankle Boots: Trouvé
Necklaces: Culp Baubles (lipstick bullet) / Lisa Galibardy (winged crow skull)
Pony Watch: Asos

How’s 2012 treating you so far?

XOXO,

FFAF

Hi. My cardigan is the color of putty and has many navy blue dice outlines all over it! M says the outfit makes me look like an old-timey gambling addict (in a good way, whatever that means in tomboy-speak), and I like it a lot. I suppose I like a good gamble just as much as the next guy, I enjoy Blackjack and Texas Hold ‘Em, but I deeply loathe casinos. Hate casinos.

They smell like cigarettes and death, the air is cheap and full of desperation, and the majority of the people who are there thoroughly enjoying themselves are zombies (seriously, they have the blankest stares I’ve ever seen) or tracksuit-clad train wrecks. Some people might urge me to yank the stick out of me arse, but it’s just not my scene. Obviously. 

Um, back to the cardigan! Isn’t it adorable? (HOLY SHIT SANTANA JUST SLAPPED THE FUCK OUT OF FINN ON GLEE, OMG OMG) Sorry about that. Where was I? Oh, yes. Anyway, just darling. I picked it up at a Crossroads on mega-clearance for next to nothing, but it’s by a brand called POL that Modcloth sells, apparently. It reminds me of the terrible English teacher we had in the 8th grade, for she was twee and very meek and as a result, the kids would gather in the corner of her classroom and shoot craps on the floor.

Poor Miss Bell. I think that was her name, I can’t remember. It’s probably because she gave me permission to skip her class twice a week for choir practice, or because sometimes I’d get so bored I’d climb up onto the window ledge and take a nap, like a kitten. Kids brought booze into her class, too, and one time this skater kid set an anarchy symbol made out of hairspray on the floor on fire. He was a good kid, he made me a pretty sweet mix tape once. We were just so bored! God, the 8th grade. I was also in the Mathletes club, and alternated between wearing baby doll dresses and those really big “houser” break-dancing t-shirts.

Casinos and junior high. So weird. So, I broke up with my horseback riding instructor yesterday (and by default, the horse I’ve been riding all year, Dakota) and it really felt like a breakup. I was kind of a mess all evening, but I’m doing much better today. I’m either terrible at goodbyes or I greatly underestimated how attached you can get to an animal after nine months.

OK, here’s the DL on the rest of this little getup:

Cardigan: POL
Skirt: Gap
Suede Pumps: Franco Sarto
Sunglasses: Vintage
Watch: Asos
Necklace: Culp Baubles
Pearl Earrings: Banana Republic
Rose Brooch: Somewhere in Dublin, I believe. I can’t remember, but I adore it.

Halfway there to this posting daily in November business – it’s hard work!

Love,

FFAF

Typical day wandering around the forest drinking Blanton’s and pouncing on tree stumps. It’s a gloomy, rainy Fall day here at home, which is very lovely – the rain sounds divine – but the downside is that it means yet another canceled riding lesson. I haven’t been riding in two weeks, and it was something like 80°F then. My instructor just texted to tell me that my pony is lame, to boot.

Did y’all have a nice weekend? Ours was awesome. We had dinner at MUA in Oakland with an out-of-town friend who was interviewing for an exciting new position nearby, and the evening weather was gorgeous, the streets packed to the gills with Art Murmur-goers. The tomboy called the shots on Saturday, so we stayed in our PJs, slept in, watched movies and lazed around all the day long. Yesterday I got to call the shots, so we brunched in the Mission and soaked in the blues skies at IndieMart in Potrero Hill, petite in tow.

M found us some DIY mimosa kits (paper lunch sacks containing a bottle of OJ, a can of Sofia, and a plastic cup) and Korean tacos, and I scored some lovely finds – a vintage sweater with a tribal Pendleton feel, a nudie girl friendship bracelet, and a friendly, soft-skin making solid lotion bar.

Later that night I got all dressed up to meet a friend on the Embarcadero, where we attended a Fleet Week formal reception aboard the HMCS Ottawa at Pier 35. It was so much fun! The Snowbirds (officially known as the Canadian Forces 431 Air Demonstration Squadron) were all there and as they are basically rock stars, or the Canadian versions of our Blue Angels, it was so cool to hang out on the same awesome WWII destroyer ship as them. After my date – an officious member of the Canadian Consulate – and I got our sea legs over cocktails, we eventually scampered up and down four levels of the ship on an excellent tour, which ended in an invitation to sit down and have a beer (Canadian!) in the Ward Room. There may or may not have also been Canadian hip-hop playing.

OK, let’s discuss this outfit. I really like this dress and both times I’ve worn it so far, it’s gotten lots of compliments. People can’t believe it’s not vintage when I tell them. I feel like it’s really versatile – can be dressed up or down, worn in mild or cold weather – and features a print that’s somehow both attention-getting and soft, muted.

Dress & Pony Watch: Asos
Belt: Vintage
Shoes: Seychelles (so comfortable, you guys)
Necklaces: Culp Baubles (lipstick bullet), Mariele Ivy (bear tooth)
Bracelets: Lori’s Shoes (leather + gold cuff), H&M (braided friendship bracelet)
Ring: Crossroads
Clutch: Handmade by this smart, foxy lady

What’s it like where you are? I know it snowed in Utah, finally stormed in Austin, and that Boston saw a little Indian Summer of its own this weekend. All the weather-y things.

XOXO,

FFAF

Typical workday outfit.

That’s a lie, actually. I don’t think I have a typical workday outfit. The work week is likely comprised of 2 parts dresses, 2 parts pants, and 1 part skirt. I’m the dressiest person at my tiny office, so I take liberties, though I do sometimes envy the resident queer hipster and her daily uniform. (So easy, and works well for her small frame, without fail.) One day I’ll wear a cotton maxi with a denim jacket and platform clogs, the next I’ll be in trousers, a silk blouse and a blazer, and then there are days when I wear something like you see here.

I swanned into the salon after work for a brisk bang trim, and the ladies all oohed and aahed. You know when folks ask you if you have a hot date and you’re all, “Erm, just headed home for a rousing Thursday night on the couch, actually”? That happened. That didn’t end up being entirely true, either, the tomboy had poker night at work (she took 2nd place for a neat $70 purse because she’s hot like that), so the petite and I decided to be super awesome mallrats until she was overcome with debilitating cramps and our tomboy-free shopping spree came to an abrupt end. Sad.

I got this jacket (as you may recall from the arboretum post) on eBay.com and it came from overseas, so it is super funny to me (but in reality I suppose it’s not very) that it has a little fake D&G zipper pull. I mean, it’s an EXCELLENT little jacket, despite the fact that I’ve worn it like three times and it’s already falling apart at the seams, literally, but the zipper pull isn’t fooling anybody. I think when it finally gasps its last breath I’ll take those studded panels at the shoulders off with a seam ripper and build them into something new with my nifty little sewing machine.

Like take an old thrifted leather skirt and sew the panels where pockets would be, maybe? Something.

THIS PURSE.

I’m over the moon about it, despite getting it from Beyond The Rack. Have I covered my beef with them here? Two things:

1. They’ve sold me stuff and then weeks later informed me of “inventory errors” resulting in a big fat JUST JOKING.
2. They’ve sold me stuff and packaged it so poorly that the goods were damaged by my very neatly opening the package. Whiskey tango foxtrot, man.

In neither case did they make any attempt to make me a happy camper again. Eventually my credit card was reimbursed, but there was never any, “We’re so sorry we screwed up and you weren’t entirely tickled pink, please accept free shipping or a discount on your next order.” Add to that the fact that their shipping is G L A C I A L L Y slow, and you’ve got a messy retail breakup on your hands (and I’ve since had quite the rebound with Gilt). Alas. I ordered this purse on April 13th, it got here last week, and even I must admit that it was 100% worth the wait.  It’s beautifully made, vegan, and tough as nails. SOUND LIKE ANYBODY YOU KNOW? #coughcoughGAY

Dress: H&M
Jacket: eBay
Shoes: Modcloth
“Laroux” Handbag: Matt & Nat
Lipstick Bullet: Culp Baubles
Sunglasses: Ray-Bans

Last but not least, FFAF is getting some mad straddle love from the Femme Straddlers, so I’m giving some back! Since Autostraddle rolled out their nifty social networking features recently, there are endless ways to create and build queer community. Check it out! XOXO!

The bright and vivid hues you see here, my doves, are no more. Can you believe that blue sky or those magical yellow and purple flowered hillsides, all that full green grass? I long to be back in the balmy arms of this day! It was only Sunday last, on the drive out to my best friend’s house on a lovely late afternoon. After a little visit, we headed to a nearby path to take the rest of these photos. The light was incredible. We hope you enjoy them!

Lo! as the wind is, so is mortal life
A moan, a sigh, a sob, a storm, a strife.

-Sir Edwin Arnold, “The Deva’s Song”

Alas, we are having some major weather out here now. Hence this beautifully dreary quote. I suppose that’s what we get for boasting. How was everybody’s Valentine’s Day? Sweet, I hope, and full of love and light or perfectly executed snark on the Hallmark holiday du jour.

We had the day off and spent it at the California Academy of Sciences in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park. It was wonderful! We had a swanky lunch in the museum’s more elegant dining option, the Moss Room, complemented with classic cocktails. M had the Aviation and I tried a prosecco number with elder and Hangar One vodka. My lunch was divine: local, organic pork sugo with house made pappardelle, spinach, and grana padano. M went with lighter fare, the chilled soba noodles with sesame, cucumber, and a ginger chili vinaigrette. I am absolutely in love with the museum, and can’t wait to go back. We went from the humid, tropical 4-story rainforest to a faux-igloo, where we watched a short movie about the Aurora borealis, and then got faux-snowed on!

It started to drizzle just as we were leaving, so we started a fire back at home, all snuggled in and spent with a bottle of champagne, cooked an early dinner and exchanged treats. I’m sure you’ll see it here soon enough, but M gave me a gorgeous watch for Valentine’s Day! I adore it – it’s all sleek stainless steel and Swarovski around a stormy mother-of-pearl dial, and it complements my engagement ring perfectly (fun FFAF fact: I’m very much left-handed). I’m one lucky lady.

M was a VERY bossy photographer the day of this impromptu shoot! She rushed me down the path so that the train was in some of the shots (after the freight train passed, two Amtraks went by, but they’re not nearly as romantic). She made me stomp through all the tall, tall grass to a little pond. She demanded that I climb back up the hill and stated that I absolutely must roll down it, like in the Jack & Jill nursery rhyme. After that, she spied the little foot-long section of a tree trunk just in the water there, and she stood watching like a hawk until I was balanced atop it on one shaky foot.

By the time we finished, there were dozens of burrs trapped in my tights, the hem of my skirt, and on my long sweater vest! I made her pick them all out on the side of the road while I hopped from one foot to the other, scolding her. It was really, really hilarious.

I’m wearing:

Gap skirt
Converse One-Star shirt
Calvin Klein sweater vest
Nine West boots
Vintage purse
Le Tigre shades

with:

Tiered necklace from Banana Republic
Lipstick bullet by Culp Baubles
Earrings from Isla Mujeres, Mexico

Timing is everything.

I am obsessed with the Country Strong soundtrack, and I am acutely aware of how that sounds. Did you get a look at these boots? Christ, aren’t they ugly? BUT SO SENSIBLE. Sometimes those are the breaks, kittens. I wanted to wear these hot little puppies from Asos, but they had zero arch support and how sad is that? (S0 sad. The saddest. SADDER.)

In retrospect, it wouldn’t have worked out. Right? There is no way all that suede would have survived all that snow. Y’all in Boston and NYC let me know if I’m wrong; you’re the experts with your 84,000th snowpocalypse this winter. I know you don’t sacrifice style for practicality every damn day there’s some powder on the ground. Spill it.

Would they have survived all our Tahoe shenanigans?

She’s acting single, I’m drinking double.

Here’s a gay fable for y’all:

Little Miss Prissy’s sippin’ martinis, boys on the bar stools shootin’ down whiskey.

Like some wide-eyed dreamer.

The petite and I have decided to take the dogs out for a jog when I come home from work every night. Tonight was our first night. I huffed and puffed and broke a goddamn sweat, I’ll admit it. This was motivated in part not by lofty 2011 resolutions but realizing how busted I felt after my epic ski weekend (um, the one pictured). There was a whole lot of exertion that weekend. Skiing is exercise and I enjoy it. It is rigorous.

Post-skiing I felt great, energetic, you know the drill. By Wednesday or so last week, I felt sluggish, achy, like my body knew what it felt like to get a workout and wasn’t going to have any of this zero-exercise malarkey anymore. At first I blamed it on the altitude change, but it didn’t budge. I’ve jogged before, when I lived in Oakland. Long, meandering jogs through the cemetery, up and down all those relentless steps in the very still morning, forcefully brushing off the dead. Brisk, sweaty jogs around Lake Merritt in the afternoon, dreading the dodgy end but loving the rest, by the bird sanctuary and the boathouse and pagodas, that slow sun slapping against the murky water, making everything about it very romantic.

I guess I’m jogging again.

On the drive home from Tahoe, M & I stopped 84,000 times to find some part of the South Yuba River that wasn’t completely inaccessible or trespassing or tantamount to certain death. It is a beautiful river, but elusive as all get-out. We stopped so many times we fell an hour behind schedule. We stopped for lunch. At one point we’d pulled over where families were sledding, building snowmen, there was a canyon not far and surely it was cut through by the Yuba. It wasn’t. A teenager came running through the clearing, hollering that the police were going to start ticketing cars for $55 if we didn’t all clear out. We all hustled out of there. We fell two, three hours behind schedule, having stumbled into Lake Donner in all its glory. We couldn’t find any place to stop that would let us drag our fingers in the riverbed, turn rocks over with our hands, yelp at the icy water. It was infuriating.

We settled for this place. This little clearing and all its shallow, light- and shadow-filled pools of water. A huge bank of snow half-covered a big gate and sloped down to it. There wasn’t a soul around, it looked like the perfect place to hide a dead body. They’re always hidden in crushingly beautiful places in the movies, I thought.

I hesitated, but M dragged me down and once it was clear I wouldn’t die or break a leg I bounced around like a puppy from one stream to another, and here you go.

Dress & Lace Jacket: H&M
Fur & Gloves: Vintage
Necklace & Ring: Banana Republic
Lipstick Bullet Necklace: Culp Baubles
Boots: Some ski shop in Tahoe City!

Meet one of Brooklyn’s finest femmes, kittens! Here’s the delightful Bevin Branlandingham of FemmeCast and Queer Fat Femme. She and I ran a little workshop at the Femme2010: No Restrictions conference last Friday morning. We met for the first time in June at her incredible Re/Dress & Size Queen event in Oakland, after becoming fast internet friends through our mutual love of fashion, all things femme, and involvement on our respective committees with the Femme Collective earlier this year.

Also, her tomboy friends have the cutest puppies, don’t you think?

Of course, her outfit rules. This is one LBD that refuses to be outdone, and the little tart hair clip was quite the cherry on top of her ensemble. Here’s her really impressive bio, since it says it way better than I could:

Bevin Branlandingham is the Host and Producer of FemmeCast: The Queer Fat Femme Podcast Guide to Life. She is a flamboyant femmecee, writer, drag king, burlesque and comedy performer. She is Co-Head Madam of the Femme Family, the New York Chapter of the Femme Mafia, on the steering committee for the Fat and Queer conference and the media committee for the Femme Conference. In 2008 Bevin received a Commendation from the Mayor of Jersey City for her work with the LGBT community. Her writing has been published in numerous periodicals and she has performed throughout North America. Her mission is to make the world a safe place for people to love themselves, regardless of their marginalizations. Her website (including blog, calendar of events and workshops) is found at QueerFatFemme.Com.

She also blogs at Butch-Femme.com and The Femme’s Guide to Absolutely Everything and performs throughout North America.

This has to be one of my most favorite collages ever. Adorable puppy? Check. Pretty, multi-talented femmes? Check. Dildo? Check. Fancy hair ornaments? Check. DONE AND DONE.

I need Bevin to chime in on her outfit particulars, but here are mine:

Dress: Calvin Klein
Shoes: MaxStudio
Bag: Betsey Johnson
Earrings: Vintage
Necklace: Culp Baubles
Feathered Hair Clip: Buffalo Exchange

Waiting for Rufus Wainwright. After the closing remarks at the conference, M fetched me from the hotel and we set out for Napa. It couldn’t have been a more perfect evening. The temperature was perfect, the light falling softly at sundown was perfect, dinner was outstanding and Rufus Wainwright was absolutely wonderful, as always. At one point during the show, M whispered to me “How is he even a real person? His albums sound so good, but then you hear him live up there and he’s somehow much, much better than all that!” and I nodded with my tear-streaked face.

He made corny Napa jokes and told a few stories between songs, and he played La Complainte de la butte and Memphis Skyline (two of my favorites). Zebulon undid me completely. His sister brought the petite onstage and they all sang together (well, the petite cooed), and it was really lovely. I cannot wait until he’s back in November with the SF Symphony for Five Shakespeare Sonnets.

I am going to go every single day of the 3-day series, come hell or high water.