fitforafemme.com

Hello, Birdie!
Hello, Jonesey!
Hello, Part Five of Anna Karenina!

When I first posted about my awesome new book club in early September, well…the past is in the past, darlings. My life only goes one way, and that’s forward. Or something. I’ve learned to ignore the book-themed catcalls and barks of sexual harassment from the vermin at the BART station I arrive at on my way home (honestly, it doesn’t matter one whit what you do, girls, they’ll find something reprehensible to groan in your direction), and I swan I stood in front of my car door for a full four and a half pages to finish a chapter before unlocking it and getting inside because I could not force myself to stop reading.

IT’S THAT GOOD.

I mean, it’s obviously been lauded as one of the greatest novels ever written but I know some of y’all are guilty of letting your copies collect dust, so I’m just saying. As our wonderful friends at Autostraddle say, READ ALL THE BOOKS.

Speaking of internets, I recently gave some tips on finding and keeping lesbian friends and you should read it – beyond my own, there are lots of great tips and resources for finding smart, like-minded hotties in your neighborhoods!

Halloween is almost upon us, and aside from our it-sounds-better-to-talk-about-it-than-to-actually-do-it idea of being Rose and Nat from The Real L Word, I’m hard-up for a good costume idea. We’ve carved a batch of splendid pumpkins, though, and I’ve customized nearly all of our baby pumpkins. The candy bowl is quivering in anticipation and there are little DIY ghosts swinging in the breeze outside, all spooky-like. What are your plans? (Keep reading for some ideas of where to go in SF and a little FFAF festiveness. )

I know a lot of you have already heard me say this 84,000 times today, but I am really loving this new song by Crystal Castles and Robert Smith (The Cure, but y’all should know that). He sounds perfect, and it’s a deliciously gloomy track. It’s a cover/remix of a Canadian new wave band’s 1983/1984 original Not In Love.

It makes me want to dance on a tiny, smoky, filthy dance floor with too much whiskey and scabby knees under my skirt.

Raw silk tunic: Banana Republic
Riding pants: The Gap
Belt: Vintage
Boots: Donald J. Pliner
Earrings: Ancient, but I love the wee pewter disco balls swaying beneath the massive heart!

I forgot to mention the Party On! Gaga party on Friday night! Bad FFAF! Here you go, kittens:

Now tell me all about your amazing costumes and Halloween plans!!!

Apparently, the rest of the country is on fire and the skies are trying to put them out with mediocre success, but I shan’t take up valuable white space with that sort of nonsense.

It was a very brutal Friday at work.

No, it was a very brutal Friday from the moment I woke up until, hm, champs ‘o clock.

It began with delays at my BART station (our metro of sorts), because some moron was walking around on the tracks. 30 minutes late. On the upside, there was perfectly cooked bacon when I arrived. A few harried hours later, I had a noon meeting, with food provided, but I don’t do pre-made sandwiches so lunch was actually half of a somewhat stale pastry chased by a bottle of OJ, eaten one-handed around, oh, 3PM. Of course, there’s nothing like a 3.5 offshore-centered earthquake from a high-rise building to make the afternoon exciting, not that I felt it (I was far too busy running around dealing with far less thrilling aftershocks of another sort).

It is no wonder then, that I made a beeline for Godiva after leaving the office, partly for my own sanity and partly because I’d promised my girls some treats. The smirk below, then, is directly related to A) Friday, at last and B) champagne truffles.

That, and the fact that we’ve got a 1.75L bottle of 10 -year Eagle Rare single-barrel Kentucky bourbon sitting atop the bar.

Plus, this dress is excellent and I’ve figured out that the Fekkai Marine Summer beachy wave hair stuff works much better when my hair is dry.

Dress, Calvin Klein
Scarf, Pier One ($10!)
Boots, Donald J. Pliner
Sunglasses, Kenneth Cole
Denim Jacket, Old Navy
Suede Tote, Banana Republic
Leather Earring, Idyllic4U (Brooklyn Flea)

Here’s what I’m thinking for my own personal inspiration sheet for Fall 2010 (or, like, life):

Weekend plans include, but are not limited to, the following:

What have y’all got going on? Is there anything else I’m missing, besides a massage and a good soak in a hot tub? Here, listen to this song, it’s pretty:

Edited to include this sandwich explanation: Pre-made and packaged sandwiches disgust me. I will also never, ever eat at one of those creepy, psychotic “dining in the dark” places. I must see exactly what you are putting in my probably very sparse sandwich, and I will watch you like a goddamn hawk tracking a sweet little bunny rabbit in an open field on a lovely Spring day if you are making it for me. I cannot believe that people actually consume sandwiches that have been sitting there for fuck only knows how long, with the spread or oils or whatnot soaking all into the bread and the other contents withering inside of suffocating plastic wrap. I also really loathe mayonnaise, and I still can’t quite figure out how I am friends with people who are known to eat it by the spoonful. The same is true for salads, you know, even if all of the ingredients are tidily separated from one another. Salads should be fresh. They are not fresh if they are boxed. I realize that being impossibly fussy makes me somewhat disagreeable, but I’m not quite as obnoxious as vegans or gluten-free types or people who can’t handle dairy without a big to-do, so there.

Palettes! THESE ARE A LOT OF COLORS. But it works.

I’ve had this really fabulous Kenneth Cold necklace forever and as far as I can tell, it’s made a single, sad little appearance on this blog.

I still remember buying it!

M & I were at this amazing, super industrial outlet store near our old place – in its heyday, I’d leave with an armful of shoes, and its slow decline saddened me – and I saw it in the glass case. The brown leather is unbelievably supple and buttery, and the little pearls randomly strewn through out this textured silver, well, I died. Of course, I took it home, never once suspecting it’d end up around my waist one day.

I love it this way and probably ought to have more faith in its construction, but I was a little afraid all my rigorous running around and climbing up and down rickety old stepladders might break it. It turns out fate would take care of that for me, when I spilled a shitload of cooking oil all over the front of the dress whilst preparing for dinner with poor scientist. will blog for food, requiring a head-to-toe wardrobe change.

It happens to the best of us, right? Or maybe just me. Hm.

Hey, are you voting daily? You know, to help FFAF win a richly deserved 2009 Lezzy Award? WELL, GEEZ, GET VOTING ALREADY!

TOMBOY CONFESSION: M has said that her confession would only wax poetic about ham or sweet potato pie or my deliciously festive sparkling Cosmopolitan cocktails from Christmas, so I guess I’ll say a few words in her stead. We are both VERY excited about the gun rack my brother and his girlfriend so thoughtfully gave us for Christmas. She keeps fussing with her hair, y’all, saying it’s already gotten too long, despite the fact that it’s only been three weeks since she had it cut. Tomboys!

A bit about this blazer: M found it without much ado at our favorite neighborhood thrift store, for five gay bucks and in pristine condition. Turns out it’s from a little place in San Francisco that’s been in business for over 35 years, The Hound Shop. The embroidered label on the inside says “Tailored for the Montgomery Street Man” and has a great hound in the center – it’s really fantastic. She did a dapper job pairing it with this vintage striped, flat-bottom tie I got her two Christmases ago, I think.

FEMME CONFESSION: I really, really, really love this dress! Another epic thrift store find – it must have been somewhere between $3-$5, tops. From the fluttery little sleeves to the deep pinks and reds to the cut and wearability – it’s almost perfect. I have to try it in some va-va-voom heels and decide whether or not the hem needs to come up a couple of inches. I tossed the beret on as an afterthought on our way out of the door and it really made the buttoned-up look (though the weather was so agreeable, I didn’t need the coat at all).

Long story short, it was a very brilliant Christmas – cozy and raucous and abundant in the best ways – with a very full house, wonderful surprises, lots of incredible food and loved ones. My mother had several silly games with awesome prizes for us to play, including a 2-page, multiple choice Christmas trivia quiz in red and green ink that had us all in stitches (M had the lowest score of everyone, even the foreigners – it was hilarious). Nearly everyone teared up when I opened my mom’s gift to me – several sets of my beloved Grandma’s gorgeous vintage jewelry – I was astonished! Amazed and so, so touched.

Some festive Christmas pics below:

CONFESSION: So much! (Such words.) The new hair! The new boots! The never-seen-before couch that so many beloved friends have slept upon! The under-appreciated brown suede tote bag from a Banana Republic sale years and years ago, and still it serves me well! Come in, sit down, have a drink. I’ve got so much news.

First things first, the holiday party I threw last night for work went swimmingly. (If you’re ever in town and want to grab a cocktail at a bar that perfectly melds art with liquor, please visit Madrone. Don’t forget to call me so that I can join you!)

On a whim, I popped into Buffalo Exchange and found not just one but two pairs of fantastical brown boots – a dark chocolate pair of riding boots ($16) in lovingly worn leather and these nutmeg suede, pointy-toed wonders. Love. I still have the gorgeous, supple, high-heeled Donald J. Pliners, but these are great for day-to-day traipsing around.

I wore them tonight to a very special scotch tasting, hosted by Glenrothes at Foreign Cinema (which had even MORE great art). It was great! In addition to the awesomely themed Blood & Sand cocktail, they had tastings of the 1991, 1985, 1975 and Special Reserve, and after a few brief and entertaining speeches and a few rounds of hip-hip-hooray, they cracked open an exceptional bottle of 1979 Single Cask (No. 3808, I think, but I could be wrong) and it was well worth the wait. M said she wouldn’t pay $1,000 (the asking price for one of the remaining 13 bottles left in the world – we drank the 14th tonight!), but could see how one very expensive bottle would last one a very long time. My search for the perfect Lowlands scotch marches on with just 29 days left in the year…

After saying goodbye to some fresh new friends, we popped into the adjacent Laszslo for a round of cocktails (M with her Bulleit on the rocks and me with my favorite, Grey Gardens), and I was suddenly STARVING despite an early dinner, so we popped into a taqueria on the way home for some much-needed Mexican fare.

By far the most incredible news of all is that I will be participating in the Impact Self-Defense Basics Course for Women this weekend. My friend is assisting the instructor and I couldn’t be more thrilled to finally, finally be taking this. (I believe an old therapist of mine suggested it way back in 2000-2001, I think, so it’s been a very long time coming.) Of course, y’all won’t judge me if my first thought upon confirmation was, “ZOMG, must go out and get new workout outfits ASAP!” It’s the one weak point in my entire wardrobe! So much to do before classes begin on Friday!

Hope y’all are surviving this freakishly long week after the long holiday weekend! XO!

Here are some pics from earlier tonight – look at that moon…

PS. Also?! THE CURE TRIBUTE AT NEW WAVE CITY THIS SATURDAY NIGHT! Most excellent. I can’t wait.

CONFESSION: There’s a mural painted beneath the I-580 overpass in Oakland, at or near Harrison & West Grand, I can’t remember exactly, with these long-necked giraffes that I’ve driven past hundreds and hundreds of times. It’s subtle, the design and the giraffes themselves, if you can believe it. They kind of belong there in a way that’s absurd and familiar and should never be changed.

(more…)

When: Wednesday, Jan. 7th, 2009.

What: Blue satin Kenneth Cole dress, Donald J. Pliner boots, vintage hand-me-down fur coat.

Scent: Perfect Veil by Creative Sensualizations. With notes of lemon, bergamot, musk, vanilla and sandalwood, this perfume is described as follows:

This was created to smell like clean, naked skin, but honestly, we have yet to meet anyone whose skin smelled this good all on its own. Maybe the skin of an angel? Maybe the skin of a fallen angel, looking for a little trouble? Warm, soft, subtle and extremely sexy, this very wearable fragrance is wonderful on its own and perfect for layering under other scents, as well, to make them warmer and more enduring. A staple on many Hollywood vanities.

While it is pleasant, it’s also a little bit creepy. It’s almost Stepford-y, you know? I sniff and I’m like, “Oh, that’s nice…and soft” but then I almost immediately visualize blank stares and shiny 50s hair and perfectly painted, mild-mannered smiles. It’s got so-so staying power and is actually pretty consistent throughout the wear, I think.

Maybe I’ll just spray it on a pillow and hug it next time. Mommy!

Confession: My iPod put me in a really silly mood yesterday. It was playing Bronski Beat, for crying out loud! It never fails in its divine, insanely gay glory, to make me dance. I threatened to do nothing more than pout, smoke cigarettes and dance around in my fur coats. For a little while, I did (except the smoking part, that’s not allowed indoors and M would beat me). I also tried on these long gloves with the dress, but as you can see, it’s not working. It’s goofy. In fact, I kind of look like I’m trying to woo the Cookie Monster.

C is for cookie, that’s good enough for me.

Disclaimer: My entire fur wardrobe (hold the lesbian jokes, please) are vintage, purchased secondhand or given to me as hand-me-downs. Like this one. Thanks, Jenna! I would never ever buy NEW fur, unless of course I were filthy stinking rich, and then I would simply replace whatever PETA drenched in red paintwith another. Made out of precious little snow leopard kittens. Nom-nom-nom. ???