fitforafemme.com

Welcome to my Saturday! Glorious weather, great beach, clear blue skies, short dress, hot tomboy. We stomped all over Ocean Beach in San Francisco, do you know what they say about it here?

The water is also quite cold, due to a process known as upwelling, in which frigid water from below the ocean surface rises up to replace the surface water that moves away from the beach as a result of the Coriolis effect. The rapid rip currents  and cold water make the ocean dangerous for casual swimmers or even for those who simply want to set foot in it, and many swimmers have been swept away and drowned as a result.

In fact, it is said to be the most hazardous and dangerous urban beach in the United States.

Which is why I’m hiding out here.

Just kidding. Here is where the surfers put their surfboards.

I can attest to the both the chill of the water and the hypnotizing pull of it. You can stand there as it swirls around your calves, freezing the blood in your veins, and nearly lose your balance with it all rushing about. It’s beautiful and yes, it can be terrible. We went back on Sunday and the beach looked completely different than it had the day before, the waves behaved differently, the birds flew together in spectacular bursts like fireworks.

I grew up in this water, being a native, and parts of my life have been played out against its bracing backdrop.  My aunt would tell us stories about swimming at the Sutro Baths there, I’ve tagged along with my big sister to countless bonfires and written a great deal of bad and sandy poetry on its shores, a childhood friend drowned himself there early one foggy morning years ago, meals have been had at the Cliff House, nighttime trips have been made – wrapped in woolly coats and the arms of my loverbird in the dark – when the moonlight hits all the sand blown sideways by the rough wind.

That is never changes and yet changes always is what makes its constancy so perfect, I think. Like love, no?

We just wanted to take the fresh, clean, salty sea air. We walked up and down the same stretch at least a dozen times, collecting sand dollars, shells, with M gleefully poking at anything that might be dead and rotting. The hem of my dress was still soaking wet when we left, and my right boot was still damp. We were happy and felt well!

Alas. Here I am, home sick on a glorious Monday, chained to the couch in my pajamas (well, M’s pajamas) and to a lingering cold or flu or curse that wrenches deep, dry coughs from my chest and congestion that won’t quit. Despite the natural remedies passed on through the generations in my wife’s family, good old Western medicine, straight-up denial and everything in-between, I’ve been felled by whatever felled the tomboy last week. Bullocks!

She’s on her way home as I type this, which is good, because I need someone to pet my head and tell me that I’m still cute as a button even when sick as a dog.

(Dogs are really very rarely sick, you know, that expression is ridiculous.)

Dress: Fairground
Vest: Garage sale find for $1!
Bag: Betsey Johnson
Cuff: Dollywood
Boots: Nocona
Silver: Vintage

Also, I took this photo of some adorable high schoolers hanging out – they were so shiny and happy and really sweet:

Hi, there. Have I mentioned that I joined a book club and we’re gearing up to read Anna Karenina? It’s true. I’m so excited. Nevermind that I’m concurrently working my way through a half dozen or so books right now, a book club is just what I need. Assignments, discipline, discourse! The timing also excites me. We might be in the throes of an Indian summer now, but this 838-page edition, translated by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky, will last us well into Autumn.

There’s also this rather modern version, you know, they’re calling it Android Karenina.

I’m told my translation is by far the superior one, by someone who would know.

I’m just a little bit fretful that my copy is brand new. Time constraints prevented me from purchasing a more storied, gently loved tome. The result is that it’s got zero street cred and no personality, as far as the lovely tactile nuances of books go. Sadface. I’ve already appealed to the book club not to laugh at it’s horrible shiny newness when they see it.

Compared to one other girl’s edition from the 1960s, mine is like an obnoxious Marina girl standing next to a chic Parisienne who dates moody beat poets and nonchalantly poses topless and smoking for artistic black and white photos, and so on.

What else is knew? We’ve had a series of incredible cocktails at home this week, created on-the-fly by yours truly and as I type this, the handsome one toils away in the kitchen while dinner cooks, peeling a cucumber to whip a batch of something boozy and delightful, I’m sure. Tuesday night we enjoyed French 75s with Boodles London Dry gin and a nice Charles de Fère Réserve Blanc de Blancs Brut. Last night I slapped together some Ketel One vodka with lavender-infused simple syrup, Domaine de Canton, fresh lemon juice & a sugar rim, and it was delicious.

M has emerged with the cocktails: Muddled cucumber with gin, Combier and Domaine de Canton, fresh lemon juice. It tastes like eating dirt and drinking lemonade at the same time (in a good way).

My round won the night’s experiments, however. Gin with French Berry sparkling lemonade, fresh lemon juice and lavender-infused simple syrup.

Let’s talk about this book! It’s called, obviously, The Secret of Scent, and it’s a fascinating read on the science of smell, very heavy on  olfactory theory. It is chock full of the most amazing diagrams of molecules and compounds and, I mean, I may or may not have googled whether or not there are tattoos for, say, tuberose or Astrotone out there. Luca Turin, the author, is a world-renowned biophysicist and a true giant in the world of fragrance. I had no idea that there was so much we still don’t know about smell.

Anyway, this outfit!

Tunic: Staccato
Leggings: Calvin Klein
Bag: Betsey Johnson
Boots: Lamica
Cuff: Dollywood
Lips: Revlon’s Just Bitten Lip Stain in Frenzy

These are all M’s favorite looks and pieces from Zara’s F/W Collection for Men. What do you think? She’s very into (as always) bulky, shawl-collared sweaters with bold patterns, sweaters that look like dead animals, and military detail. I like it all, but the oversize infinity scarf really threw me for a loop!

This little thrifted dress has seen erratically different looks! It’s been paired with a severe studded blazer, my cropped denim jacket and a vintage braided belt in nudes, pinks and blues, and a navy vest with a big dose of retro. I guess this look is a bit earthier than the others, done but kind of dirty with the tousled waves and stony accessories.

Dress, thrifted
Belt + Bag, vintage
Shoes, Madden Girl
Leather Eagle Cuff, Dollywood
Sunglasses, Kenneth Cole
Jewelry, handmade pieces and assorted trinkets amassed during travels (which are my favorite pieces to collect)

I’d like to introduce you to a brand new blog! Closet Riots is a new body-positive fashion blog/tumblr project from stylist / performer / DJ / promoter, all-around femme fatale Jenna Riot, right out of San Francisco. (Look out, world. We’re taking over.) I already love it and I really think you will, too, so check it out. Add it to your readers, blog rolls and tweet about it to your heart’s content. I’ve been meaning to take the girl out for a drink for weeks and I can feel it in my bones that it will happen soon. If you’re lucky, maybe we’ll document the occasion!

If you’re feeling her steez and think you might enjoy a little more Riot in your life, check out Bad Reputation at the Lex this month! Don’t get any funny feelings, though, folks – she’s definitely taken.

We arrived by scooter – M drove! – to the southern tip of the island, where you’ll find El Garrafón – a national park, panoramic watchtower, sculpture gardens – as well as a small Mayan temple to Ixchel, the goddess of fertility and Cliff of the Dawn, which is the southeasternmost point of Mexico. If you’re there to watch the sun rise, you can say you were the very first person in Mexico to be kissed by the sun that day! The views, quite clearly, were stunning.

This was our first day, as evidenced by my relatively pasty gams. The wind did insane things to my hair. The sun did hurtful things to my poor arms, but every minute was worth it. The sculptures and statues were really incredible. I love these sandals.

STUD ALERT! STUD ALERT! STUD ALERT! Witness the tomboy, nestled so lovingly in the bosom of her motherland. (Ah, Mexico, land of lawlessness and splendor. You’re so damn pretty. Your babies are pretty. I’m so glad I married into you, Mexico.) M kept up with me in terms of wiliness that day, hopping down into restricted areas, leaning rebelliously against rickety railings perched on sea cliffs, climbing into the little crevices and caves, and peering into mysterious wells of water or curious nooks and crannies.

When I stood here gazing upon the sea, I had no idea that I – four days later – would be ziplining from an identical structure in a bikini, over the crystal blue waters in the hot, hot sun! (Twice!) When we paused in our adventures for some lunch, we ordered these margaritas, which were way bigger than our actual heads. I climbed into this super weird, sandy, vertical crater in the side of Cliff of the Dawn, and pretended I was on a moon. A hot, beachy moon.

I don’t believe the above needs a caption at all, but SCOOTERS! Rest assured that when we get one, our helmets will be much sexier than this. This next one is just for fun:

Greetings from San Francisco! It’s Friday! The weather’s lovely! What have you got planned? M’s arranged an afternoon soiree for birthday cocktails tomorrow, but we’ve got to be up extra early for a petite school competition, so no Flourish for us tonight, sadly. It looks likely that we’ll be laying low on Sunday (especially since kick-started the weekend early last night at Glam).

Femme2010: No Restrictions Update!

I’m super happy to report that the programming committee for August’s femme conference in Oakland has received so many amazing submissions, and we’re poring through them all diligently. It’s really exciting and if you haven’t done so yet, absolutely mark your calendars (or just take the plunge and REGISTER NOW for the early bird price of just $50) for what is sure to be one of the most amazing FemmeCons yet! While you’re at it, look them up on Facebook, too.

Last but not least, of course:

Praise Dolly! The sun came out in a glorious way today! Not in that wintry, deceptive, incapable-of-penetrating-the-chill way, but in an honest-to-God Springtime sort of way. It was lovely. To be completely honest, I’ve been wearing this dress around the house like a muumuu or house dress, or a hearty old slip, so when it was time to put on proper clothes, I just tossed on the leggings and jacket and scooped my hair into a ponytail. Voila! It felt sinful and fantastic.

When we stepped out onto our little street to take these photos (M is really coming into her own as a style photographer), the kittens were out, the trees were green, bumblebees buzzed, I sipped my whiskey sour and reapplied my very red Besame lipstick with very red nails. Spring and I went at it hot and heavy. Alas, I fear the cold will come and go until it warms back up in earnest, but that’s OK. Today was wonderful.

So, spit it out! What are your big Valentine’s Day plans? We’re going to be lazy bears until the early evening, with small bites and cocktails at Annabelle’s and then to a “Share The Love” party being thrown by a friend of hers and her loverbird. It should be dreamy!

Of course, FFAF wouldn’t even be worth if not for y’all, so here’s a big wet lipstick-y femme kiss from me to you! XO!

CONFESSION: I finally, finally found a perfect little weekender bag. I’ve been searching forever. It’s simple and roomy and will be perfect for ski weekends or last-minute trips to Dollywood and so on. I’d been drooling over the Betsey Johnson rainbow snakeskin print bag for awhile, but M thought it gauche so eventually I just let it be. This one is admittedly more grown-up and I’m quite pleased with it and myself!

It’s otherwise been a lazy, drizzly Sunday of recuperation. We slept for 12 hours straight last night, and a little while after breakfast M suggested that we make beef stew, so I modified the recipe at chow.com with brisket and some extras like EVOO, whole cloves of garlic, thyme and oregano, red bell pepper, a bit of butter and – most importantly – Guinness. It turned out beautifully, especially with the soft loaf of french bread we bought just for dipping. We are positively stuffed, but there’s a mini-batch of homemade shortbread baking as I type this (another tomboy request), which we’ll have with some Mexican hot chocolate garnished with fresh, fluffy homemade almond marshmallows sent to us by a dear friend (and avid FFAF reader!).

In a perfect high / low mix, we’ll probably be watching the latest Jersey Shore episode while we nibble and sip, because Jersey Shore is AWESOME. If that isn’t quite your speed, feel free to,  drool over the foodie pics below!

*Big bag by Betsey Johnson!

CONFESSION: So, the weekend! It was officially kicked off at bartending school, where we sped through our lesson to get to the tequila lecture and tastings. I learned that sipping tequila straight is like unleashing a pack of hellhounds on your palate, unless it’s an anejo, or extra-anejo. M & I stayed up late watching old episodes of Grey’s Anatomy and eating the Indian food we had delivered.

(more…)