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Did you know that Saturday’s incredible heatwave broke a San Francisco record? The hottest recorded temperature was 84 degrees in 1947, and we saw a whopping 85 degrees on June 12th, 2010. In all that glorious sunshine, M & I walked just over three incredibly sweaty hilly miles to take Conor to Holly Park. We found some supplies at a wonderful little deli called Avedano’s Holly Park Market in Bernal Heights – they were very accommodating in slicing us some fresh prosciutto, they had fabulous bags of sea salt crostini and small but super high quality assortments of cheeses, chocolates and other confections. The result? A romantic Saturday picnic in the park with our pup.

Did you know that Friday, June 11th was Fit For A Femme’s 2nd birthday? I can’t believe we missed it. I had it marked on my calendar and everything! I’ll have to dream up some other way to celebrate, even if slightly belated. Let us discuss this ensemble for now. The necklace was a Christmas gift from my mother – it’s vintage and belonged to my dear grandmother – she thought I’d cherish it and put it to good use.

Shorts, Martin + Osa
Tank, Elie Tahari
Hat, Capelli
Shoes, Madden Girl
Necklace + Watch, Vintage
Sunglasses, Kenneth Cole

Can you see Twin Peaks there in the distance? It was a beautifully clear day, and I hope everyone had a delightful weekend.

Sometimes we take time from our busy, fast-paced city life to ease into the slow lane, where the neighbors are quiet and polite (or best of all, nonexistent), the food takes its sweet time coming to the table, and everything is lovely. Yes, even if it’s storming out. Most recently, it took us to the Russian River Valley in the wine country. Specifically, to Guerneville. More specifically, to Korbel Champagne Cellars for a tour of the grounds and gardens, and a champagne tasting.  Don’t we look snug? That’s because the rain stopped long enough for us to enjoy the visit.

Look at all that stuff! We did not realize how old Korbel was, nor about the trio of brothers from Bohemia, with their Bohemian brides, and all the scandal and intrigue and Wasp-y newsletters, etc. It’s a pretty interesting history, and while Korbel isn’t edging out cava or champagne from France anytime soon, their organic Brut and Blanc de Noir reserve aren’t half bad! They certainly came in handy back at our rustic cabin, pairing nicely with the fancy cheese plates from Boon’s.

Sometimes we eat. Sometimes we eat A LOT:

I’m getting ahead of myself! The gardens! They were really very pretty, with some varieties of roses over 200 years old or something incredulous like that. Take a little stroll with us, won’t you? Try not to pick up random things on the ground and eat them, like the tomboy does. It worries me.

Sometimes we cuddle and sometimes the tomboy just looks too bloody adorable and NOM-worthy for her own good, don’t you think? I’m surprised I don’t need a new stick every week just to beat all the ladies (and the odd gay) off, honestly. I guess the choke hold down there helps. I guess this is a good place to tell you where she got the scratchy wool coat at, it was the military surplus store in San Jose, which has rock bottom prices. The jeans are Sevens and the shoes are the same Marc Ecko ones you’ve seen before.

Y’all? We expected sunshine and LOTS of it this weekend (this being Mother’s Day weekend, which is where all these photos are from), but we had a single day of light and then the storm came. My Oleg Cassini weekender bag and I were beside ourselves, considering the fact that I’d packed 84,000 sundresses and little else. Good thing I was able to assemble this backup outfit for inclement weather.

PANTS: Silence + Noise (I think officially these are “jeggings”, which might make my page views plummet wildly. I apologize.)
COTTON LEOPARD PRINT TANK IN NUDE: Elie Tahari
CARDIGAN: Kersh Essentials (Costco, basically.)
SHOES: Madden Girl
BAG: Emilie M.
NECKLACE: Betsey Johnson

This concludes your getaway weekend with Skinny + M! We hope y’all have fantastical Memorial Day weekend plans. Tonight is our Friday, so we have a lovely four-day weekend planned in which there will be Ethiopian food, a great deal of bloodshed and hopefully heart at UFC 114, the world premiere of Beautiful Child, a musical set to the staggeringly gorgeous music of Rufus Wainwright (there will be OUTFITS), homemade strawberry sangria, and who knows what else?! Perhaps there will even be some sun.

CONFESSION: In spite of the fact that this dress is super fun, I’m getting the distinct feeling that old 2009 isn’t going to go without a fight. You know what, 2009? EAT A BAG OF DICKS AND GOOD RIDDANCE TO BAD TRASH! I’m not scared of you. You, my friend, are on your last wonky leg. (No offense to bona fide wonky-legged pups – they are precious and deserve nothing but endless love.)

Perhaps that’s a bit unfair. 2009 wasn’t exactly bad, I mean, it wasn’t full of absolute misery and suffering, not at all. It was simply a year of bipolar highs and lows, and I am only saying, “We had a good run, 2009, you taught me a lot and I don’t regret the stellar changes and growth you saw me through. But you were a little unfair, a little hysterical, you threw one too many hissyfits and, in the end, you just weren’t there for me. You were kind of a cocktease, also. Your upside just isn’t good enough, considering all of the risk.” Harsh? Perhaps.

C’est la vie! 2010 is a fresh start. Go on. Touch me.

CONFESSION: Fall arrived in head-to-toe drag queen regalia in San Francisco in the wee hours of the morning yesterday, loud and brassy and thunderous and with all the sky’s gaudy sequins refracting through myriad bedroom windows. It was fan-fucking-tastic. Really splendid. Of course, M & I slept through most of it, or shall I say we experienced it from the comfort of our bed, but storms like that are really rare here, so I loved it. M said that it sounded a lot like an earthquake, and she kept waiting for the shaking to start! The rain that came was far less impressive, in fact, that part was more like walking around the Mission drenched in a vat of the appropriate CB I Hate Perfume scent. Lovely. Hope y’all had lovely weekends.

CONFESSION: Tuesday seems so very long ago that I can scarcely remember what even happened that day. I woke up, pouted about heading to a photo shoot in the South Bay for a meeting, the overcast of morning clearly refusing to budge, I wore this beret and piled on olive green eyeshadow because I felt moody, arrived at the photo shoot, admired a necklace, attempted to download some software, declined offers to shoot and/or be shot, smoked cigarettes, drove back, went to the library…oh! So, two things about this outfit. The dress looks like a nightie when it’s not belted, which I kind of love, and the great little shrunken, perfectly faded denim jacket belongs technically to the petite. Oh!

Confession: Can’t think to confess. Too shocked about American Idol outcome. Too blown away by how awesome everything but the conclusion was. (Cyndi Lauper + Alison gave me goosebumps!) I’m not saying this HuffPo article says it all, but it’s certainly a relevant consideration. I did, however, work myself into a feverish, fantastical froth of excitement over potential Team Glambert duets – Dave Gahan? Robert Smith? Morrissey? RUFUS WAINWRIGHT? – of course none of them would be caught dead on AI, but still. A girl can dream, and she can dream big. BIGGER THAN JESUS, EVEN, BITCHES. So here, take it. The same dress you saw yesterday, with one of your favorite tops on me. I’ve nothing more to give.

FFAF SPECIAL ALERT: Don’t say I didn’t warn you! The tomboy and I are packing up and heading…um, East! That’s it, East. East to Yosemite for a glorious 4-day camping trip full of horseshoe games, exploration of several lakes and nearby creeks, lounging poolside with a 2′ tall stack of books, and chocolate fondue. That’s right. FONDUE. Ask anybody. Even when I camp, I am fancy.

The downside? 4 FFAF-less days.
The upside? Some rugged FFAF posts when we get back!

Confession: It has come to my attention that when it comes to music, I am a fast sucker for a good horn section. Triumphant horns, despondent horns, horns that shout jubilation through a downpour of misery gasping for air – give it all to me, I’ll take it. Most recently it’s manifested in Beirut’s entire discography and Carina Round‘s new song, Backseat, from her newly released EP “Things You Should Know.” (The EP is kind of all over the place – I’m hearing Evanescence and Mazzy Star and she’s used to getting a great deal of PJ Harvey comparisons, as well – but she’s got quite a pretty, clear-as-a-bell voice. Plus, she’s really cute!) Anyway, it’s my favorite off the EP, with a lovely crescendo of horns toward the end. I adore it. I get into the same sort of helpless state in the last bit of Bright Eyes‘ Nothing Gets Crossed Out, which has got horns and much, much more. Songs that level you, you know? I’ve been leveled. So that’s how this post got named what it did. She sings those words like she’s just seen the last sliver of her life’s love walk off into the sunset, never to return, and she’s just sort of whimpering it into the wind, not quite sure whether or not she can stay upright. I told you. (Well, what would you sound like?) Onto cheerful things!

Scent: Italian invasion! There isn’t too much to say about Gianni Campagna’s Gelsomino. It’s wild Italian jasmine, so sultry and a little bit bossy or overbearing. Exquisite, but can be overwhelming and can knock you over with one sniff! In a good way, I think, for something this concentrated and intense, you really do have to apply it very sparingly and let it just sort of waft around you. Others get notes of cedar and clean sea air, even bergamot, but I’m not sure. It might also be for men, but I cannot imagine it.  Here’s some pretty wild jasmine to look at AND the actual bottle.

PS. My sewing machine is supposed to arrive today! Tonight! NOW! I’m going to run downstairs now and check.