fitforafemme.com

This almost looks like summer! Almost. We took these at the end of the heat wave last week, when I was just beginning to feel a bit under the weather.  This dress has a criss-cross back, the tricky kind like you used to wrestle into all wrong when you were a little girl and all the swimsuits came with those cross-cross backs, you know? Confession: I still sometimes get it wrong, but I think that’s because I’m terribly impatient.

Confession No. 2: Sometimes when I’m not my usual frisky self or don’t have music to loosen me up for these FFAF shots, I look to my catalogs and magazines like Lula for posing inspiration. It feels silly but it’s better than boring y’all and myself to death! Anyway, here’s M, threatening to beat me with my own catalog. Tsk!

I am not sure what she’s grinning at so adorably up there in the sky somewhere, but it made for great photos!

When I snagged this necklace at one of those little Isla Mujeres boutiques back in April, it was because I envisioned it just like this. Set against a solid, severe backdrop or against a nice, bold, black and white print. I particularly like how the funky tattoo-influenced print clashes with the dark coral strands. The only thing I’d change about this is my nails, which are naked. They should be Jeffrey Campbell “No She Didn’t!” red, of course.

M wants to know if you like her kicks. I think you’d better! She even bought herself a hoodie in the exact same shade of green to match.

Pants: Calvin Klein
Shirt: H&M
Shoes: Etnies M. Taylor Skate Shoes

Dress: Fairground
Cardigan: Calvin Klein
Shoes: Franco Sarto
Clutch: Alice + Olivia for Payless
Sunglasses: Le Tigre

I need very badly to be a bunny in this amazing sweater:

Good evening to all. I’ve been a bit MIA due to time constraints, exhaustion and a jam-packed social calendar. Since I last posted, I’ve partied at Lush and a luxe lesbian party with dear friends, cried my face off at the Stars show, done quite a fair amount of shopping and fetched the dry cleaning, welcomed a Canadian tomboy to the San Francisco Bay Area, started a new job, celebrated Father’s Day with M and the family out of town, finished reading one book and started another.

Additionally, my new schedule is thoroughly kicking my ass, despite being tremendously worth it in absolutely every possible way. My nightly sleep has been reduced by at least one-fourth and no amount of caffeine seems to do the trick. (Plus, if anyone knows of a reputable threader in the Embarcadero or Financial districts of San Francisco, for the love of God share her with me. I scarcely have time to pick up my new order of contact lenses and new checks from the bank, let alone tend to my poor, poor eyebrows.)

Finally, M’s birthday is this Friday, so we’ve got some serious celebrating to do. Starting tomorrow night. Without our pants on, of course.

2010: NO PANTS!

Blouse: Calvin Klein
Slacks: Express Design Studio
Wingtip Pumps: Franco Sarto
Oversized Lace + Pearl Necklace: Spoiled! Boutique (Oakland)

This outfit is a stark departure from last Friday night’s black and tan (like the milkshake!) bandage dress by Bebe, but more on that later.

Sunbathing on a delightful Saturday, we watched little boys chasing around birds like wee tyrants while the little girls did the smart thing and frolicked in the fountains nearby. We could have dozed here forever.

Femme: H&M dress, Franco Sarto patent leather wingtip pumps, Alice + Olivia for Payless clutch, Elle sunglasses.

Tomboy: Seven for All Mankind jeans, Ben Sherman belt, Penguin tie, Macbeth shoes.

Petite: I LOVE her flats. I bought them for her and wish we could share ‘em. They’re a brand called Me Too. She’s wearing them with Zara jeans she inherited from me. She’s also inherited some old pairs of Blue Cult, H&M and Miss Me denim from me – lucky petite!

Look at all of that vivid, glorious blue! I’m beat after spending a happy morning and afternoon helping a dear friend get settled in her new Oakland flat. It’s gorgeous. Flooded with warm sunlight through windows on nearly every wall of every room (which her two adorable cats love), tray ceilings with crown molding, hardwood floors with pretty inlays and those charming old touches all over, and French doors separating the huge master bedroom from the even larger living room. Just lovely. I AM SO JEALOUS, but incredibly happy for them (her beau arrives in two short weeks, she’s a carpenter and can play a mean banjo).

I was also mere blocks from our old loft today, and I felt pangs, y’all. Pangs of yesterday. Pangs of concrete-sandwiched-between-multiple-layers-of-drywall “party walls.” Pangs of walk-in closets and his ‘n her sinks and well-lit showers and a DISHWASHER and stacked washer/dryer sets, le sigh. Of course, living in San Francisco has its perks and advantages over Oakland, but bang for your buck where square footage and amenities are concerned ain’t one of them.

Laundry by Shelli Segal pants, Chicks On Speed for H&M racerback tank, thrifted vest, vintage shoes and Gucci scarf.

Another day, another outfit. This was my “laundry day” outfit. Far more interesting is that Karen Elson was pretty incredible last night at Cafe Du Nord. Her voice is much prettier onstage than it is on her solo album, which already sounds lovely, but still. Live her voice is haunting, taut, taunting. She chatters on between songs and apologizes profusely for her incessant need to “explain everything,” and then she half-giggles, half-chuckles in an awkward, nerdy way I really loved.

It goes without saying that she looked stunning, but real. I didn’t expect real, approachable. She was wearing a very long peach dress that fit her poorly in some places, but it kind of only made it that much more fetching, and there she was, oscillating between an ethereal, singing (and guitar-playing) angel and a bashful geek! The crowd favorite seemed to be The Truth Is in the Dirt, but I found myself singing along to The Birds They Circle the most today.

I’d write more, my friends, but it’s my turn to make cocktails and I cannot think up ways to use this unopened bottle of Lillet Blanc, can you? Let me know in the comments.

PS. Yes, Jen, my jeggings had faux pockets. In some circles jeggings aren’t considered the real deal unless they have the faux pockets. I’m just torn between shame and comfort on the subject.

PPS. Here’s where you’ll find us this weekend. This time, baby, I’ll be Bieber-proof! (I know, you hate me, you can’t get it out of your head. Oop! Kylie! Sorry about that.)

Dear readers, you’re in for a treat. I’m handing the blog-mic over to my dashing M, who will surely amuse you as much as, if not better than, I do. Enjoy!

Don’t let my awesome cowboy-ish outfit trick you into thinking it’s hot out here. IT IS NOT HOT. Every day for the past week, the cocktease sun will come in through our tiny tiny bedroom window and blind us while we’re trying to sleep, and all the heavy sunlight tricks us into putting on shorts or flip flops or cowboy shirts and lures us outside into the PHONY PHONY spring day. Bah! By then it’s too late to go back in and change, so here I am, acting like it’s all warm, but in reality, only 1/10 of my face was warm enough to justify this outfit.

We went on a mad shopping spree this weekend! Sometimes you wake up, not sure if you’re still drunk or not and you decide you really, really need new white underwear. Not a fleeting desire or idea, a NEED. I decided I was going to buy some white underwear. ‘Cept I’m not really known for buying a reasonable amount of anything. Not clothes, not booze, certainly not lemons! I need a whole truckload of a thing. I shit you not, I think I got about 30 new pairs of white underwear. You can’t see them in these pics, but I am wearing them! Of course, once we were in the store, the femme decided I absolutely needed this shirt — she’s already threatened sexual assault — and as you can see, the sunglasses also go quite nicely. After this photo shoot, I put on a giant christmas sweater.

Fuck you, SF sun!

I love my wife, guys. She makes me laugh. Wanna know something else? We totally sex-broke our – well, her – bespoke harness not last weekend, but the weekend before. It’s only been a year or so! Anyway, off we went first thing Saturday morning afternoon, in a homo ass panic to Mr. S (super NSFW) to see if there was anything they could do at the Sex Toy Hospital for M’s most beloved leather piece and lo! “This will just take us 15 minutes. We’ll be right back.” OMFG, I love them so, so much. Thanks to them, we only had to resort to the lowly commoner harness once. Well, a few times. But still. IT WAS REALLY A SCARY TIME FOR US, OKAY!?!

She also left out this very crucial part of our retail therapy binge on unmentionables:

After seeing the DKNY Spring 2010 campaign in the April Vogue I decided that I, too, could just go totally apeshit with every floral I could find in my closet. What do you think? Am I nuts? It’s a little nuts. That’s OK. It was one of those experiments that could possibly benefit from a little fine-tuning, but where’s the fun in that? It’s far more exhilarating to step outside and boldly go where perhaps only upholstery has gone before. I did find it perplexing that I just happen to have similarly colored florals on black in scarf, skirt and little jacket formats, and of course these suede pumps by Franco Sarto were all, “TODAY IS MY DAY, BITCHES! ME!”

The real star of this post is my new fancy ribboned pony pin from Little Otsu (a door or two down from the site of the hotly debated new Banksy in the Mission). It’s delightful! (The pony, I mean. I’m allergic to that much hype, re: Banksy.)

Hey! Remember the pics from my marching band meets pin-up post the other day? You’ll recognize most of it in this here outfit, where I swapped the vest and shorts out for a natty little Brooks Brothers pencil skirt to accommodate a wardrobe change from day to night, and ended up with a completely different look and feel.

This is more Blair Waldorf, less camp, though you’ll notice I couldn’t resist updating the bow headband with a red rhinestone pin shaped like a perfect red pout! The gays at The Apartment helped me pick it out. They are so sweet and awesome there. M & I had promised to meet some friends for a glass or two of peachy white sangria at this party later that same evening, and the wind had picked up as dusk fell, so I needed something a bit more substantial than a tiny pair of shorts!

Keep your eyes peeled for a special post over at Femme Fairy Godmother – a wee birdie mentioned that there’s a surprise coming in the next day or two!

I wanted nothing more than to accessorize with an actual trumpet or something yesterday. I just felt this whole marching band nerd meets pin-up girl vibe and that I really needed an instrument, specifically a shiny one. Two exciting things happened yesterday (well, three):

1. I was rather spectacularly hungover and deliciously sleep-deprived.
2. I woke up to being on Autostraddle’s most esteemed list of queer blogs to read RIGHT NOW and FREAKED OUT:
   

   “So basically what you’ve got here is a gorgeous woman in adorable outfits, and it’s a blog called Fit for a Femme. More specifically, you’ve got a gorgeous femme, SBJ, showcasing these hot f*cking boots or this perfect dress. And just when you think it can’t get any cuter, BAM there’s a photoshoot like this one with M in which they’re at the beach and omg I think she stole M’s hat and would you look at that mothereffing wool coat?! Stop it both of you STOP BEING SO LOVELY.”

1. Who wouldn’t freak out?! It’s insanely sweet, and wonderful news! Plus, the other blogs are amazing – we’re in such fantastic company! As a result, M & I celebrated with lunch at Regalito, one of our favorite places ever, a bit of window shopping at Therapy and The Apartment, and a trip to Good Vibes, where we ended the 10-year ban and grabbed a handful of porn, landed ourselves on the waiting list for one of the new VixSkin numbers (I can’t remember which one, honestly, IT’S JUST SO HARD TO KEEP TRACK, GUYS) and snagged a bottle of Swiss Navy (NSFW) lube, which was recommended by the lovely Madison Young over at the Sugarbutch Chronicles (NSFW) last week. I loved the name and was prepared to buy some for that reason alone – C’mon, Swiss Navy? RADSAUCE – and it’s actually really fantastic. FFAF-endorsed, y’all. Getchusome.

All in all, a really spectacular Sunday and I just want to heartily welcome any newcomers and again express how completely thankful Fit For A Femme is for your support and love and page views.

Also? Just to be bossy, I’m going to insist that y’all head over to Facebook and LIKE us there, too. XO!