fitforafemme.com

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: Today marked a very important day in our new San Francisco life. (We just realized that we recently breezed past our six-month anniversary living here! Good heavens, that went by ultra-fast.) After a cursory search on yelp.com, we selected a barber shop for M. It’s been that long since she’s had a haircut! She adored her lady in Oakland’s Rockridge ‘hood, and was skeptical about whether or not she could be replaced without paying dues in the way of a bad cut, obnoxious stylists or an overpriced hipster salon. She’d been growing it out per my request, but it wasn’t cut in a way that was meant to be grown out, per se, so she’s starting from scratch. What sold us on this particular barber were the following reviews:

• No gabbing! No chit-chat! No small talk! If you want a hug and some hippie tea, one reviewer hissed, go somewhere else. It’s straight to business here, and that is rad.
• Plenty of gay porn to peruse while you’re waiting! Well, Christ. Do I even need to keep listing reasons?
• Not only have they been in the Castro for 20+ years, they have a 4+ star rating. Word.

So at 1PM today, M got a crazy fast, efficient, and very serious and handsome haircut in a barbershop where the classic barber pole’s stripes are made of bandannas and rainbow flags adorn the walls, and yes, I admired some gay porn while she was in the chair. It was superior to any of ours and I suppose I should have snagged one. Drats! (I’m kidding. Stealing is bad.) You’re going to have to wait to see her new ‘do, but to amuse you in the interim, here was her inspiration (ignore Jake G.’s dopey mug, please):

PS. If any tomboys have tips on how to train a part into hair, please let us know in the comments! M is also on the hunt for a new product or two for this type of style – she doesn’t think her American Crew pomade is going to cut it anymore, and I’m trying to get her to try my Jonathan Dirt Texturizing Paste, but the more options, the better. Thanks, yo.

Confession: Here is my outfit for the local fashion show. Guess what? NOT GOOD FOR KNEELING IN THE PHOTOG PIT TO TAKE PHOTOS OF THE MODDLES, GUYZ. Also? Why was I the only one in the photog pit not just in a dress, but FEMALE?!?! Plus, I held hands with a woman on stilts, clad in a flaming red costume with so many sequins. She insisted. There were also people roller skating in head-to-toe spandex with little flashing light tubes twisted around every inch. It was like someone threw up Burning Man into a giant convention center, right into the khaki laps of its attendees. Like, there was actual fire and I didn’t like it, y’all. ACTUAL FIRE FLAMING FIERY HOT AND I WAS YAAAAAWWWWWWWNNNNNNNN. So bored.

The fashion part was stellar, for the most part, like red carpet, hand-beaded Bollywood madness. I wanted to snatch every dreamy tunic off those skinny models and wear them scandalously, without pants, and sky high heels. Plus, I got to pop backstage and meet the designer.

Oh, and I was forced to drink a Jack and coke (I know) and now plan to NEVER go out to one of these things without at least two bottles of mini-booze in my bag. To be on the safe side. Like a grown-up version of a Girl Scout.

PS. M took these photos of me. Didn’t she do a really, really good job? Isn’t the one with two faces awesomely creepy?

PPS. I love love love my new haircut. It is exactly what I wanted and I got it all wavy like this just by scrunching. SCRUNCH.

I wanted a kind of soft bang as pictured above. I have a 2pm hair appt. It’s 1:07pm and I’m not dressed. My ends are CRYING OUT, they are begging to be put out of their sad, split misery.

But I just realized that it took me between 1-1.5 years to grow out my crazy blunt bangs, so I’m thinking a big, old EFF YOU, BANGS right now. That was sobering. You know? Although maybe since they’re not blunt, it might be OK? Plus, I’m having some serious, last-minute commitment issues re: my part. If I even get a slight bang, I’ll be committed to a part, right? LOOK, I DON’T GENERALLY DO COMMITMENT. I’m feeling very anxious right now. Maybe I should take an Ativan before this cut, you know? It’s freaking me out.

I’ve also really been enjoying all these fancy up-dos I’ve been rocking, they keep my hair out of my face, and if I get bangs – BOOM! – hair in the face. Do you think I’m overthinking this? Is this funny to you? Does anyone take a therapist with them to the salon? I’m thinking I might need to look into that.

OK. No, really. I’m getting ready to go to the salon now.

VS.

TRA LA LA, I LOVE MY SHINY NEW HAIR, with bangs hitting my jawbone: