fitforafemme.com

Greetings from San Francisco Bay! While it is borderline insane / reckless / madwomanish to want to be out on the bay right now with all of this terrifying wind, I kind of want to be anyway. I mean, how exciting would it be!? All jostled and wild and free in the night! Not on a ferry, though, on something sexier and more, uh, seaworthy. I could be wrong, but ferries seem to be meant for quick, repeated jaunts back and forth short distances on mostly calm waters.

In that top top top photo, you can see the Golden Gate Bridge braced against the Pacific Ocean, on a very gloomy afternoon. Just above, behind me, you can see San Francisco. The hilly bit is Pacific Heights, I think. This is the commuter ferry, it hops from Pier 39 to Tiburon and Sausalito for a mere $21, round-trip. ($9 if you have a Clipper, such a steal. I also recommend a bag of hot baby donuts to keep you warm and happy, all smothered in cinnamon and sugar. So good.)

A very long time ago on a beautifully sunny, cool day, M & I took this very ferry to Tiburon, a teeny tiny Marin peninsula that sticks out into the bay. We wined and dined on freshly made beds on a huge, gorgeous wooden balcony overlooking the water with a most spectacular view of the city, while a DJ played Thievery Corporation-esque music in the background. On the ferry ride back, as the sun was setting and the big, heavy Fall moon rose like a sparkling jewel in the bosom of the sky over the Oakland Hills, we noticed a very sweet old couple nuzzling and holding hands on the ferry. It was so terribly romantic and tender, I thought, and M later confessed that she noticed them, too, and had secretly hoped that we’d live long enough to be like that one day together.

The obvious takeaway here is this: Ferry Dates, FTW!

The boats in Sausalito, where we went to this particular day, were kind of scattered at the far end of the island, and we stuck to the main drag for lunch and to wander around. There were so many tiny, fast little crabs hiding in these rocks I stood on. M & I tried real hard to catch one, but I chickened out and M just wasn’t quick enough!

So, outfit stuff:

Corduroys & Striped Sweater: Gap
Plaid Shirt: Full Tilt
Boots: Adrienne Vittadini
Coat: H&M
Fur Collar: Vintage
Leather Gloves: Cole Haan
Earrings: Banana Republic

And hey, like you need the reminder, but…

Hi. My cardigan is the color of putty and has many navy blue dice outlines all over it! M says the outfit makes me look like an old-timey gambling addict (in a good way, whatever that means in tomboy-speak), and I like it a lot. I suppose I like a good gamble just as much as the next guy, I enjoy Blackjack and Texas Hold ‘Em, but I deeply loathe casinos. Hate casinos.

They smell like cigarettes and death, the air is cheap and full of desperation, and the majority of the people who are there thoroughly enjoying themselves are zombies (seriously, they have the blankest stares I’ve ever seen) or tracksuit-clad train wrecks. Some people might urge me to yank the stick out of me arse, but it’s just not my scene. Obviously. 

Um, back to the cardigan! Isn’t it adorable? (HOLY SHIT SANTANA JUST SLAPPED THE FUCK OUT OF FINN ON GLEE, OMG OMG) Sorry about that. Where was I? Oh, yes. Anyway, just darling. I picked it up at a Crossroads on mega-clearance for next to nothing, but it’s by a brand called POL that Modcloth sells, apparently. It reminds me of the terrible English teacher we had in the 8th grade, for she was twee and very meek and as a result, the kids would gather in the corner of her classroom and shoot craps on the floor.

Poor Miss Bell. I think that was her name, I can’t remember. It’s probably because she gave me permission to skip her class twice a week for choir practice, or because sometimes I’d get so bored I’d climb up onto the window ledge and take a nap, like a kitten. Kids brought booze into her class, too, and one time this skater kid set an anarchy symbol made out of hairspray on the floor on fire. He was a good kid, he made me a pretty sweet mix tape once. We were just so bored! God, the 8th grade. I was also in the Mathletes club, and alternated between wearing baby doll dresses and those really big “houser” break-dancing t-shirts.

Casinos and junior high. So weird. So, I broke up with my horseback riding instructor yesterday (and by default, the horse I’ve been riding all year, Dakota) and it really felt like a breakup. I was kind of a mess all evening, but I’m doing much better today. I’m either terrible at goodbyes or I greatly underestimated how attached you can get to an animal after nine months.

OK, here’s the DL on the rest of this little getup:

Cardigan: POL
Skirt: Gap
Suede Pumps: Franco Sarto
Sunglasses: Vintage
Watch: Asos
Necklace: Culp Baubles
Pearl Earrings: Banana Republic
Rose Brooch: Somewhere in Dublin, I believe. I can’t remember, but I adore it.

Halfway there to this posting daily in November business – it’s hard work!

Love,

FFAF

We took these yesterday, when the ground was still soft and wet from Saturday’s rainstorms. I was still recovering from all the fun we had at the Wild Flag show at Great American Music Hall in San Francisco.

After so many years of seeing lots of amazing shows in the Bay Area, GAMH is hands-down the winner. It’s over a hundred years old and lovingly restored despite its seat in the less than desirable Tenderloin, it always feels incredibly intimate but never awkwardly so (like at Cafe du Nord or Bottom of the Hill – both definitely great, but not in the same league as GAMH), its got food and well-made drinks and just feels comfortable. I walk in there and it somehow feels homey to me.

WILD FLAG! They were really, really perfect. I haven’t danced like that in ages. Everyone was amazing, but Carrie especially so – there was a lovely amount of cheerful bantering with the audience, and she’d would bounce back and forth from being very deeply and seriously draped over her guitar to being unable to suppress infectious ear-to-ear grins that we all lapped up like drunk kittens. I wish I could have asked her where she got her blouse. It was really gorgeous on her.

There was plenty of slithery slithering of guitar parts and a line about hair-pulling in a new song which nearly killed me and trademark Carrie-kicks and the exceptional Racehorse went on for like 20 minutes and I. didn’t. want. it. to. ever. stop. Ever. I think I’m mildly whip-lashed from working it out so hard during the show. Perfect, perfect, perfect. 

The audience was, as expected, heavily queer. For instance, I bonded with another femme over our identical cowgirl bags and we ran into some friends whilst foraging for a bite or two. I managed to scare off the one rude (and very tall) hipster who tried to elbow his way in front of us right in the middle of the show. M bought one of the band’s t-shirts – it’s so awesome, wait until you see it! – and I had a major fangirl moment (aside from this entire post), but I refuse to bore you with the details. When the show ended, we took off for a midnight adventure by-the-sea under a sky full of stars, and slept like babies once we were home and tucked into bed.

Trusty, Rusty Corduroys: Gap
Fringed Pony Tank: Lovebyrd
Denim Shirt ,Fur Collar: Vintage
Calf-Hair Wedge Boots: Adrienne Vittadini
Necklace: Galibardy
Earrings: Betsey Johnson

Hope everyone had wonderful weekends and remembered to Fall Back. Posting daily sure is kicking my ass, but surely somewhere in all this is an effective lesson on self-discipline, right?

Cheers,

FFAF

We’re back, we’re back! It’s true, we nearly made an offer on a Boston home before hopping onto our flight back home, but here we are. Home sweet home.

I’ve been putting more effort into building a wardrobe of staples that can be thrown on in a worry-free hurry in the mornings. It’s tempting to always wear dresses – they always look like you’ve put more thought into getting dressed, and it isn’t hard to add a belt or necklace and a blazer to create a perfect look – but it feels more sophisticated to have the freedom to assemble a smart outfit no matter what the pieces are.

Since I woke up jet lagged and fell a bit behind schedule (thank heavens we showered the night before), I couldn’t spend a long time in my closet and I wanted to be comfortable. When I spied this ultra-soft striped top on its hanger, I reached for a black pencil skirt and plain black pumps, and added the braided belt for some extra texture and color. A chic little ensemble in two short minutes! I don’t actually wear my Evo on my belt like that, I just wanted to show off how awesomely matched it was to my belt.

See the sweet silver infinity necklace below? That was the precious 31st birthday gift from my very best friend – we’ve known one another since the 7th grade!

We managed to do a spot of shopping in old Beantown. We were just around the corner from luxe Newbury Street (where I got my first ever gel mani/pedi – AMAZING), and our friends insisted on a trip to Cambridge’s very impressive thrifting wonderland, The Garment District. There just wasn’t enough time to sample the boutiques and secondhand gems in Jamaica Plain while we were there, but all the more reason for a return trip. We’re hoping for a long weekend in the Fall, just in time for prime leaf peeping season!

I’ll be sure to let you know when I post on the items we got during our travels…

Skirt: Gap
Shirt: Kersh Essentials
Belt: Thrifted
Pumps: Charles David
Loverbird Bag: H&M
Lips: Smashbox Double Exposure Lip & Cheek Color in Double-Time under a touch of Lancome Juicy Tubes in Raspberry Ice!

Welcome to my own personal lifelong dream come true. This is the backdrop for where I’ve begun (at last!) formal horseback riding lessons. Still sniffling and somewhat under the weather from my persistent cold, having canceled on brunches and parties and even my mom’s birthday this past weekend, I kept one commitment: I showed up to ride a pony in Woodside on Sunday morning. I didn’t have the contact information for the instructor (it was on my work email, which I thankfully have not yet had to access on the weekend), and they were expecting me. Being a no-show for my very first lesson wasn’t even a consideration.

Luckily, the sun was out and the sky was clear. It was almost warm that day, even. Isn’t it just stunning?

Not far from the meadow I’m pictured in, there are several stables (as above), many paddocks, a spattering of roofed and roofless pens of various sizes, and at least one arena for jumping or fencing. That’s where I train! The facilities are nestled in a heavily wooded park just between our home and the Pacific Coast, with redwoods and oaks and creeks and meadows and madrones, much of which is only accessible by foot or horseback.

As I drove through the tiny, old-fashioned downtown of Woodside, my breath caught at how completely beautiful and lush everything looked. Things suddenly felt surreal. You know how taking off on a flight for some yet unexplored destination doesn’t feel quite real, like you won’t actually believe it’s happening until you touch down in a world entirely different from any you’ve known? It felt just like that, but instead like landing. A smooth, graceful, dreamy landing.

The tires of my car bit into the gravel of the small parking lot canopied by all the trees (one of my absolute favorite sounds, next only to walking in it), and I parked and stepped out of my car. I seemed to be the only person around and hoped I hadn’t botched the time in an OTC-drugged haze, and then I stopped dead still.

I saw them. At least a dozen horses, some with their little cold weather coats on, some ignoring me, some craning their necks curiously, all of them gorgeous and possessed with distinctly unique personalities. I had to force myself not to cry in awe and gratitude. After a few moments I looked up the hill and saw a few stablemen in the distance, fussing over a gorgeous black horse with white markings, so I headed there. They sent me back down the hill, past the parking lot to the arena, where a boy no older than ten or eleven was practicing jumps with his pony and a trainer. She sent me back uphill to the stables, and as I reached the top, a little winded, I saw him.

Dakota! His reigns were held loosely in my trainer’s hand, who smiled at me and told me I was early. I had no idea. I thought I was late! Without much ado at all, the trainer gave me the reigns, told me to walk Dakota to the mounting block and get acquainted, as he had to fetch waiver papers he’d forgotten back in the office for me to sign.

Just like that, I was a girl all alone holding the reigns of a big, dark chocolate brown horse with a jet black mane and big, open brown eyes. Just like that.

We walked. I led, Dakota followed politely. I cooed and passed my hand along his cheek and nose, peering into those bright, shining eyes. He appraised me then leaned in reassuringly. We’d reached the mounting block. The trainer came back and I completed the form, snapped my helmet on (the bangs will have to be grown out immediately as they do not at all agree with helmets), went through the motions of cinching the saddle before hoisting myself up to begin the lesson. From there it was easy, the ghosts of lessons I’d taken years ago shaking off dust and taking form again. We kept the lesson simple, basic. Dakota and I have to get used to one another before moving on to more advanced areas, but that will all happen in due time.

I feel tremendously lucky and like I’ve got a missing piece of my heart back again.

This blog is obviously about to get heavily equestrian in the next few months, so I hope you’ll bear with me. When ski season ends, I’ll be taking weekly lessons at least. This outfit (getting back to the essentials) isn’t much: a pair of Banana Republic extra-skinny jeans, a Ralph Lauren Polo wool turtleneck with suede patches, the black jacket by Gap and Lamica boots.

The bright and vivid hues you see here, my doves, are no more. Can you believe that blue sky or those magical yellow and purple flowered hillsides, all that full green grass? I long to be back in the balmy arms of this day! It was only Sunday last, on the drive out to my best friend’s house on a lovely late afternoon. After a little visit, we headed to a nearby path to take the rest of these photos. The light was incredible. We hope you enjoy them!

Lo! as the wind is, so is mortal life
A moan, a sigh, a sob, a storm, a strife.

-Sir Edwin Arnold, “The Deva’s Song”

Alas, we are having some major weather out here now. Hence this beautifully dreary quote. I suppose that’s what we get for boasting. How was everybody’s Valentine’s Day? Sweet, I hope, and full of love and light or perfectly executed snark on the Hallmark holiday du jour.

We had the day off and spent it at the California Academy of Sciences in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park. It was wonderful! We had a swanky lunch in the museum’s more elegant dining option, the Moss Room, complemented with classic cocktails. M had the Aviation and I tried a prosecco number with elder and Hangar One vodka. My lunch was divine: local, organic pork sugo with house made pappardelle, spinach, and grana padano. M went with lighter fare, the chilled soba noodles with sesame, cucumber, and a ginger chili vinaigrette. I am absolutely in love with the museum, and can’t wait to go back. We went from the humid, tropical 4-story rainforest to a faux-igloo, where we watched a short movie about the Aurora borealis, and then got faux-snowed on!

It started to drizzle just as we were leaving, so we started a fire back at home, all snuggled in and spent with a bottle of champagne, cooked an early dinner and exchanged treats. I’m sure you’ll see it here soon enough, but M gave me a gorgeous watch for Valentine’s Day! I adore it – it’s all sleek stainless steel and Swarovski around a stormy mother-of-pearl dial, and it complements my engagement ring perfectly (fun FFAF fact: I’m very much left-handed). I’m one lucky lady.

M was a VERY bossy photographer the day of this impromptu shoot! She rushed me down the path so that the train was in some of the shots (after the freight train passed, two Amtraks went by, but they’re not nearly as romantic). She made me stomp through all the tall, tall grass to a little pond. She demanded that I climb back up the hill and stated that I absolutely must roll down it, like in the Jack & Jill nursery rhyme. After that, she spied the little foot-long section of a tree trunk just in the water there, and she stood watching like a hawk until I was balanced atop it on one shaky foot.

By the time we finished, there were dozens of burrs trapped in my tights, the hem of my skirt, and on my long sweater vest! I made her pick them all out on the side of the road while I hopped from one foot to the other, scolding her. It was really, really hilarious.

I’m wearing:

Gap skirt
Converse One-Star shirt
Calvin Klein sweater vest
Nine West boots
Vintage purse
Le Tigre shades

with:

Tiered necklace from Banana Republic
Lipstick bullet by Culp Baubles
Earrings from Isla Mujeres, Mexico

How has everyone been doing with their resolutions so far? I’m not a big believer in the New Year being some blessed time to dramatically change your life, no more so than on a rainy day in April or a summer’s day in June. But with the end of a year I suppose one can step back, get a bit of perspective, and have a clearer idea of what the coming year or years should look like.

So far, I’ve finished one book (Portia de Rossi’s Unbearable Lightness) and am halfway through another (Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere). I’ve checked out the horses for adoption on Petfinder, perused the ads for horses for sale on Craigslist, and looked at leasing options, all thanks to a friend who happens to be something of an ex-horsewoman and has me looking at gorgeous Selle Francais and Dutch Warmbloods I cannot afford (as they are so fancy and can run you $80,000). We’ve dipped into our bottles of Evan Williams Single Barrel and Maker’s 46 bourbon. Not a bad start for six days in.

Perhaps your resolutions involve your beauty routines! I’m always trying to simplify mine, but I thought it would be fun to show you what’s in my medicine cabinet and on my vanity! (Maybe at the end of the year I can compare to see if it’s changed very much, too.)

Face
01. Cleanser: Lush Bûche De Noël
02. Toner/lotion: Lush Eau Roma Water
03. Cream/moisturizer: Lush Skin Drink + Estee Lauder Advanced Night Repair
04. Facial mask: Lush Catastrophe Cosmetic
05. Exfoliator: Rotation between a few favorites: Dermalogica Microfoliant, Origins Modern Friction + Brighter By Nature (twice weekly)
06. Make-up remover: Origins Clean Energy Gentle Cleansing Oil

Body
07. Shower gels/soaps: Lush Flying Fox
08. Body lotions/creams: Aveeno, Cetaphil
09. Anticellulite/firming treatment: W H U T, am I supposed to be doing this?
10. Body exfoliator: Homemade Sugar Scrub
11. Hand cream: Origins Smoothing Souffle
12. Lip balm or lip treatment: Pure Vitamin E Lip Balm or Lush’s It Started With A Kiss Tinted Lip Balm
13. Perfume: Changes Daily!

Hair
14. Shampoo/conditioner: Lush Assortment, Kirkland Signature Moisture Shampoo + Conditioner (surprisingly vegan, paraben and gluten free), Aveda Clove Shampoo
15a. Mask or other treatments: Ken Paves Healthy Hair Boost Up Color Drops, Bumble & Bumble Creme de Coco Masque & homemade masks
15b. Styling Products: Frederic Fekkai Beachy Waves, Bumble & Bumble Surf Spray, some awesome stuff I got in El Mexico, Frederic Fekkai Glossing Cream, TRESemme Heat Tamer Protective Spray
15c. Styling Tools: BaByliss Pro Porcelain Ceramic Straightening Iron (1.5″), Conair You Curl Curling Wand, a blow dryer, a really old school spiral curling iron

Make-up
16. Foundation: Perricone Active Tinted Moisturizer in Tint 02
17. Powder: MAC Mineralize SPF 15 Foundation (Loose) in Light Medium , Palladio Herbal Dual Wet Dry Foundation in Cypress Beige
18a. Blush (Powder, Highlight & Bronzer): MAC Mineralize, Cargo, Besame (too many to name just a few shades), Stila
18b. Blush (Stain): Lush’s It Started With A Kiss Tinted Lip Balm, Sephora Lush Flush Lip & Cheek Stain, Tarte Ring It In Cheek Stain Set
19. Mascara: MAC Zoom Lash, L’Oreal Voluminous Million Lashes, Clinique High Impact Mascara
20. Lipstick/lipgloss: MAC, Besame, Clinique (too many to name just a few shades)
21. Eyeshadow: MAC, Cargo, Stila, Laura Mercier, Besame
22. Eyeliner: MAC Shadesticks, MAC Greasepaints, Laura Mercier, Besame Classic Masterliner Pencils

Thrifted tunic, Silence + Noise skinnies, Gap scarf, Dolce Vita for Target boots, Freebird by the Sak crossbody bag, earrings are a gift from the tomboy for Christmas (slippery like a snake!), Pier One wooden bangle bracelet, Banana Republic cocktail ring, awesome foam axe with rabbit fur trim from Paxton Gate – Curiosities for Kids.

(From Saturday, January 8th) Today was awful. I woke up slightly hungover from my femme date at the Original Plumbing Fashion Issue party last night, we’re out of everything one would use to make a deliciously greasy breakfast, and then we sat down with coffee and saw the news. My head throbbed with grief and shock and the kind of despondence that senseless, wasted death comes with without fail. It was impossible to divorce politics and the impact that something like this will have on our country from the fact that real people are still sitting in real rooms with their broken hearts, obliterated from the loss of their loved ones even as I type this.

I looked at my very grounded and mature daughter, watched her watching the news with us, peering over my shoulder to look at the Sarah Palin map of the United States that I’d been screaming at just a few minutes ago, thinking of the social atrocities she’s seen in her short life (9/11 in preschool, sitting on shoulders at useless anti-war protests in kindergarten, wars that carried her through grade school and junior high, the ups and downs and rallies and phone banking and fighting for marriage equality, the daily routine horrors of misogyny), her bright future humming with the beginnings of certainty despite all of it, and I suppose out of self-preservation a calm, quiet numbness washed over me. I went about the rest of the day, running errands, eating dinner with my family, hosting my book club for the night.

I can’t think about the ambitious little nine-year-old girl who died today because I can’t, I just can’t, as a mother. I called my mother today, and she was happier than usual to hear from me; my little brother’s been in boot camp for the Marines for a week now, the news can’t have helped any. We didn’t talk about Congresswoman Giffords, the little girl, or the five others who died because we can’t, just can’t, as mother and daughter. We talked instead about his call home this week, the menu for our Super Bowl party in February, an upcoming ski trip.

In seventeen years, when my petite is thirty years old and calls me out of the blue on an overcast Saturday afternoon, I hope this country is a better place to live than it is right now. It has to be.