fitforafemme.com

CONFESSION: Specifically, my tomboy. Is there anything hotter than a tomboy with a book? I think not. You lucky readers get a healthy dose of tomboy eye candy AND my must-have modcloth.com dresses of the moment, just for fun.

On Saturday, M & I were up and out the door by 10AM to head to Enoteca 100, an Italian wine tasting event with delicious nibbles, on a spectacularly lovely Fall day. There was so much goodness to sip, beautiful flower arrangements at every turn, super cute puppies and heavenly bites like ravioli stuffed with beef, pork and rabbit or juicy wild boar spread over crostini drizzled with olive oil, and so so so many wondrous cheeses, too. We tried to pace ourselves by starting with Prosecco, then to whites and reds, but after sampling about three dozen bottles, we had to call it a day!

PS. My leggings are DKNY and the lacy sweater is by Hazel, from Lounge in NYC.

CONFESSION: Spot the Maker’s! That wee bottle was critical in my speedy recovery from this miserable CRUD sickness I have only just now come out of (alive, praise Dolly), after 9 hellish days of being bedridden. God, I despise being sick. I despise being slowed down. Do y’all know how fast I go? FAST. It was unpretty, but we are moving forward. By now you may have heard that we (as in San Fran-fussy-cisco) had a whole hour of 300 MPH torrential downpour blues earlier today. Hayes Valley, the Van Ness Muni station, parts of the Mission flooded in some places up to three feet. There was some nonsense about a new pumping station, but come the bloody fuck on, people, if we can’t handle an hour of heavy rain then what on earth do we do when it rains steadily for days? CRY. DROWN. I would like to see how drowning rat hipsters handle that situation, I really do. Hm. Food for thought!

CURRENT OBSESSIONS:

• Reviewing fragrances and makeups here at FFAF again
• The perfect pair of brown (dark or mahogany) cowboy boots
• Making a delicious dish of scalloped potatoes from scratch
• Bourbon balls (you bitches know who you are)
• Horseback riding in some semi-regular capacity on the cheap
• Finishing a re-read of Ayn Rand’s Anthem, which started in the tub last night
• Trying to forgive myself for getting rid of a) an ashy purple velvet blazer and b) asymmetrical dresses, both from years ago, since they’re “back” – don’t you just fucking hate that?

DREAMY:

CONFESSION: My blog, my soapbox! As some of you may know, today is the National Equality March in Washington, DC. M & I intended to head out there and participate, as well as celebrate a traditional Canadian Thanksgiving with the lovely and talented Trixie From Toronto, but life got in the way (as life is wont to do). Still, a small-yet-fierce contingency of our friends are marching proudly today, and we’re there in spirit. Some of you may also have watched or listened to our President’s speech at the HRC dinner last night, in which he promised to sign the federal hate crimes legislation this week, to end Don’t Ask Don’t Tell and he urged Congress to repeal DOMA, etc. You can watch it online just about anywhere, but here’s the first of two parts:

A friend asked if I thought it was as amazing as she’d heard it was. I said that sure, in some ways it was, with reservations. You can only hear so many wonderfully supportive things so many times before you begin to listen with a cautious ear, and looking for tangible follow-through.

One thing that got under my skin more than I expected was the language around “impatience” – can’t exactly recall whether it was Obama’s or HRC’s or both – which, to me, suggests a sort of unsubstantiated, negative outcry for equality, rather than honoring and acknowledging the untold numbers of LGBT folks that this is all much too late for, you know? That any future action taken, however positive or revolutionary or history-making, can’t give them those minutes, days or years of their lives back, no matter what. That bothers me a lot. The lack of respect for that fact.

I want to know that our President knows he hasn’t got a carte blanche to tell us to be patient indefinitely. We want quantifiable, measurable progress and / or some sort of timeline, which isn’t unreasonable. Intent, intent, intent with little or no follow-through and this ridiculous hemming and hawing is exactly what he pledged to radically change in his inaugural speech, so specifics would be nice.

Also, I’d love to watch an old Clinton speech of comparable import and see how they differ or not.

Here’s a pretty good, albeit quite heated, post-speech breakdown of why I’m not jumping up and down:

PS. M, for the record, said that his speech “felt like a handjob.” Harsh, but maybe also kind of true.

PPS. Just got a text message from my friends in DC. It says, “ZOMG! LADY GAGA!” Ha!

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: Oct. 31, 2008.

Femme What: ICE sheer top under my DKNY peacoat, with the pretty Peruvian scarf and AWESOME lion pin that lights up and flashes and stuff.

Tomboy What: Polo by Ralph Lauren wool sweater with brown suede patches.

Confession: We went trick-or-treating earlier this evening, of course. See some pics of the amazing Russell St. festivity below! Afterward, we stopped by a neighborhood bar that a friend of ours works at. Everyone working there, including her, was dressed as a viking! It was fantastic. We also saw a very large Cookie Monster, a very convincing Sarah Palin and a curious man in a wedding dress. I saw at least two babies dressed as perfect little penguins and my womb has been reactivated. I feel fertile! Give me babies!

We had planned to grab Mexican two doors down, but our friend coaxed us inside with promises of tasty beverages on the house, so the petites washed down baskets of chicken tenders and french fries with root beer while M & I devoured fish and chips and a chicken pesto panini, respectively.

Alas, we’ve been watching zombie movies non-stop since we got home! Did you swing by BCP earlier to read up on scary Sapphic Tales Of The Ex? Well, what are you waiting for?!?! HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Haunted houses:

This Roswell Set-Up was by far the best on the block:

THE GAY! There were a few lady-grooms and several brides at this house, and the theme was very much NO ON PROP 8! Word. They were all very happy and giggly and generous with candy handouts:

Another haunted house, the “Mars Attacks” band and a large white creature:

Who says politics can’t be pretty? Pumpkins and the lovely gate for The Magnes Museum:

When: Friday (I’m in love), July 11th, 2008.

What: James Cured by Seun jeans, white lace-trimmed tank from Mimi & Coco, plaid blouse from the Gap. Black patent and gray suede belt with silver hardware from Tristan. Mary Jane wingtip shoes by Linea Paolo from Nordstrom and various silver jewelry (clang-clang-clang) from Juniper Tree and Spoiled in Oakland, CA.

Confession: As soon as I slipped my shoes on and made my way to the door this morning, M was all “YAH! Shiny punk rock cowgirl!” and I looked at her, pursing my lips. I didn’t realize I was emulating (snicker) a cowgirl look. Quite frankly, I ripped the whole concept off a DKNY ad, but you know what? COWGIRLS UP!

The shiny comment was with regard to all the noise caused by my wristwear (that term drove me nuts when Lucky or Elle or whoever the fuck decided it was OK back in late Winter/early Spring ’08, and I use it here mockingly) – a pile of hammered silver bangles with a massive silver pyramid bracelet that clacks loudly whenever I move my arm abruptly. Like a teacher banging a ruler down on a desk.

Denim-only Confession: Can we talk about denim? This hurts me, because I have around $1200 in Blue Cult jeans loitering in my closet, and I can’t wear them. I CAN’T WEAR THEM. They are one inch smaller in size than the jeans pictured here. Just the one, and that inch (it’s an angry one, cue Hedwig!) is the difference between nice and snug and hugging my revered ass just right, and offending people and making fancy denim lovers everywhere cry for my pants. O seams so stretched, O dry-aged organic denim tortured with thy thighs! For some reason, I have another pair of the Seun jeans in the taunting smaller size, and they fit me just fine. Hmph. I am going to the gym now.

Side note: I don’t know WTF is wrong with my camera, but my pictures from this week don’t feel as crispy as previous ones. I will tinker with it but for now: SONY, I FUCKING HATE YOU! Eat a bag of dicks. Here is a special treat for the charming Kelly Alice – a close-up of the shoes! She also suggested a shoe feature, which I hope to incorporate here very soon:

Hopefully, I’ll be back on Sunday with fun weekend outfits! I have special events (a date!), so OOOH!