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CONFESSION: Today was a day for the bank. I attended a private tasting of Dalmore’s 12, 15, Gran Reserva and King Alexander III single malt scotch whiskys, plus a very special bonus tasting, at the methodically handsome Laszlo in the Mission. The dear Scottish man who led the tasting said that I reminded him of a lovely, elegant Lowlands single malt scotch whisky, when he wasn’t spitting onto the floor at any mention of the French. (You can eventually read more about all that here, at my “other” blog. I don’t want to spoil it.) They were kind enough to let me pop upstairs before and after the tasting to take some super awesome FFAF photos, hurrah. Just a moment ago the UPS guy arrived with a very important package, and I was so excited that M said I made a big old ruckus of “kitten noises,” whatever those are. It contained a new dress (not-so-LBD) and super badass new shoes. I can’t wait to show y’all! M is well enough to drink a bottle of cava with me (finally!) and lasagna is baking in the oven with some fluffy garlic bread in hot pursuit. DREAMY.

SCENT: Tom Ford’s Black Orchid. I must confess something. I broke up with Tom awhile ago, but after reading about his directorial debut starring Colin Firth (and Julianne Moore) in A Single Man, I’ve realized something very, very important: My love for Colin is greater than my hate for Tom. Does that make sense? Of course it does. (He’s Mark-bloody-Darcy, after all.) I digress. Black Orchid is a hot, heady, stunning mess. The jury is out on whether or not that’s a good or bad thing. The opening is almost like scorched black licorice drizzled over jasmine and sundry florals, like in Absinthe or Drambuie. It does kind of smolder, all bared teeth, glossed lips and super dangerous bedroom eyes. This smells like the kind of woman you should stay away from – you know better, of course – but you can’t help yourself. I’m going to have to come back to this, because it’s too complex!

Here are some notes, FYI: Black Truffle, Ylang, Bergamot, Black Currant. Then the black orchid, dark florals, rich fruit, Lotus Wood. At last, there’s Patchouli, Incense, Vetiver and Vanilla Tears, Balsam and Sandalwood.

Watch this and tell me you don’t find it completely gorgeous. Seriously.

And since it was one of the most beautiful stills:

Confession: You are about to know WAY more about 1. Lush henna hair dye and 2. my night last night than you ever, ever wanted to know. Get cozy, stay awhile. Before I tell that story, I must share the link to the new LGBT Pride Month Proclamation from President Obama posted on the whitehouse.gov website yesterday. It pleases me – I still need to see more significant action, but I am pleased. Especially with this part (bolding mine):

These issues affect not only the LGBT community, but also our entire Nation. As long as the promise of equality for all remains unfulfilled, all Americans are affected. If we can work together to advance the principles upon which our Nation was founded, every American will benefit. During LGBT Pride Month, I call upon the LGBT community, the Congress, and the American people to work together to promote equal rights for all, regardless of sexual orientation or gender identity.

NOW, THEREFORE, I, BARACK OBAMA, President of the United States of America, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the Constitution and laws of the United States, do hereby proclaim June 2009 as Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Pride Month. I call upon the people of the United States to turn back discrimination and prejudice everywhere it exists.

Back to the story. M is in Phoenix on business and last night seemed like the perfect time to commit to appx. 8 hrs. of semi-risky hair experimentation. The objective: To make my newly cut hair shinier (yes, shinier) and a little bit richer and more even in color via one bar of Lush’s Caca Brun Hair Mama Henna. I really wanted to NOT dump more chemicals into my hair b/c, well, it’s gross and not conducive to shininess. Pursuant to the overall advice of countless forum and comment posts I researched, I chucked the bar into the blender with a freshly brewed 1/2 pot of delicious coffee, observed the fact that once blended to the consistency of brownie or cake batter, it looks JUST LIKE GREEN BABY POOP and went to town thoroughly applying the dye with gloves out of my DIY bain marie.

No more than 10-15 minutes after committing my head to a slimy-but-gritty green beehive wrapped tightly with plastic cling wrap, ready for a full night’s sleep, did our building’s fire alarm go off. Dudes, seriously? I was like Eminem on MTV Movie Awards Night: ARE YOU SERIOUS!? ARE YOU SERIOUS!?!??!?!?!?!?!?! Eff. My. Life. It was so worst case scenario it’s not even funny. I got the petite up. Got the puppies together. Grabbed my documents and phone and rummaged through M’s things to put on one of her beanies – A FUCKING BEANIE!!! – over the slime-hive of baby poop death and schlepped downstairs, where all 60 or so of our neighbors waited for the fire dept. to come and investigate and then finally turn the deafening alarms off. When I say deafening, I am not kidding. That shit is louder than standing right in front of a speaker at a Sonic Youth show, and shrill as hell. It cannot possibly be within legal decibel levels.

I suppose I should note that it is common knowledge that REAL fires would trigger the overhead sprinklers, so the only real danger was my total and utter embarrassment. The bldg. was cleared within 10-15 minutes, in the meantime I cooed soothing things to the puppy and repeatedly asked my petite if slime was oozing out of the hat anywhere. She said no, but she was also sleepily giggling at me. Once we were safely back in our loft, I tried to sleep, but woke up every 30 or so minutes from 12:30AM through 5:30AM, at which point I could no longer stand it and got up to rinse all the dye out and shower, while M slept just as fitfully from her hotel room in Phoenix because we are awesomely pathetic like that. She watched an Arizona sunrise, I obtained shinier, more uniform dark brown hair with soft hints of auburn.

But you’ll have to wait until my next blog post to see it!

More fun facts about Lush hair dye:

• They come in four colors – rouge/red, marron/chestnut, noir/black and brun/brown. The results vary wildly by hair type, condition and natural color, but the guarantees are pretty much that your hair will be: shinier, healthier, chemical-free, in terms of color, richer and multi-dimensional.
• People experiment wildly with these – adding DIY, at-home ingredients like paprika, lemon juice, cloves, etc. to the mix and swapping plain hot or boiling water with brewed coffee, red zinger or chamomile or black tea, etc. depending on your desired result. Oils like olive or lavender are also popular additions, as much for shine as texture or scent.
• Next time, I’d probably do a 2:1 ratio of marron:brun or even marron:rouge over my dark, dark hair, because it really seems to make the strands pop like whoa. I envy like hell any blondes/dirty blondes who can get away with their reds – the results are simply stunning, provided you have healthy hair and a decent cut to start with. Like Tori Amos stunning.
• It also seems like some of the added ingredients are meant to help with the smell, which folks whine about A LOT, but for me it was just like an especially earthy and damp green tea.
• Another thing I’d do different next time is buy a few empty hair dye applicator bottles from the beauty store, fill them up with the hot henna mix, and plunk ‘em into near-boiling water (bain marie or whatnot) to make application easier. It’s messier than regular dye, but not THAT much messier.
• People also seem to get more intense results when they babysit it with a blow dryer every 30 minutes or so for 2-3 hrs., as opposed to no heat overnight, like I did, so I’d probably try that as well.

Confession: I first noticed this poster months ago, right after we elected Obama, I think. It’s stuck onto the front of a massive electrical unit, which hums rather loudly despite the fact that the 880 is a few yards away. I knew I wanted it as a focal point for a blog post but it just didn’t want to happen. Until today! I don’t know, I love it. I love that it’s red, white and blue, I love that it says DONE, I love that it’s got that prick SOB’s face on it and that the words “shining beacon of hope” are tucked into the lower right corner, for one to interpret however they best wish. I hope that I am posting this before the message is too obsolete, though I don’t think – as a person, a woman and a mother, a lesbian, nor for the country as a whole – that it can ever truly be obsolete at all. What do y’all think? Any similarly awesome political street art in your ‘hoods?

Scent: These are so fancy and awesome that I’m writing them up instead of a new fragrance. They are candles and they smell incredible. I wanted Stonehenge (smoked cedarwood and amber), which was much more handsome and gentleman’s parlor, but M picked Havana, which would have been my second choice – for the tobacco leaf and bergamot notes. They are potent but not overpowering, pretty to look at and eco-friendly (I think). Get your own Archipelago goodies here!

For a little bit of Oakland, pics of our delicious brunch at Somerset and more, check out the slideshow!

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Confession: I’d sent in my RSVP for the Lush Grand Opening Party at Bay Street two weeks ago and needed a tub of Dream Cream, so M & I dragged our happily spent bodies from bed and set out on the day. After appx. 30 seconds of crowded Lush store air, M made a beeline outside and stood like Cool Hand Luke against the glass window while I shopped. Remembering the goodie bag that came with a $40 purchase, I snagged a tub of Ultra Bland cleanser and one of their lip pots, which got me the following 100% free (well, you know): Olive Branch solid perfume, an Avobath bomb, a bottle of Smitten hand cream (so delicious) and a Pop In The Bath bubble bar. Plus, they handed out little Lush cookies for nibbles.

And I know it’s SO last summer, but FINALLY a pair of aviators that don’t make me look like Nicole Ritchie. Whee!

And then we bought even MORE Girl Scout cookies, as you can see.

When: Friday, Feb. 27th, 2009.

What: Ivory dress by M by Madonna for H&M, vintage fur coat. Bra and panty set by Elle Macpherson. (I am in love with her website. The photographs with all the goosebumps and dimples and realness of yes, very trim women, but still more real women than we are used to seeing in ads, especially in lingerie ads, delights me.) Watch, Guess. Earrings from Juniper Tree. Rings, vintage and Laundry by Shelli Segal.

Scent: The very elegant Tubéreuse Criminelle by Serge Lutens, with notes of tuberose, jasmine, orange blossom, hyacinth, nutmeg, clove, styrax, musk and vanilla, from the exclusive range. Let me say this first: When M & I were married at San Francisco City Hall, it was in a cloud of giddy-yet-somber love reverberating through the rotunda and gently raining down tuberose, from my bouquet. I can’t help but sink fondly into this fragrance, even it comes howling like the devil out of the decant. Within moments it stops shrieking like a newborn from the womb and just nestles in, and if angels existed the soft folding of their wings to kneel down and gaze into the eyes of some broken creature with love so abstractly vast it melted your brain to even contemplate it, well, the sound of them would smell like this.

People love or hate this. They are so put off by its vulgar beginnings that they abandon it, or some version of tuberose so watered down it scarcely resembles the real thing has blinded them to the beauty of Criminelle. Some people think it’s mysterious, they marvel at its depth, its can’t-put-my-finger-on-it-ness. Some think it packs sexual power.

I love Criminelle because it tells the truth. Perfect. In every way.

Confession: I promised assorted FFAF readers that I’d post a blog with this dress and the fur, albeit not necessarily together. With the recent days of still chilly air veiled with clear blue skies and the faint stirrings of Spring, I knew my days were numbered where the fur is concerned. (Not that we really ever have fur-worthy days out here, I know you East Coast kittens are rolling your eyes at me so hard they’re loud as eight balls cracking against corner pockets.) So I paired the two, experimented with some trickery in Picasa and Voila!

When: Monday, Jan. 26th, 2008.

What: Lamica boots, Laundry by Shelli Segal trousers, vintage neck-tie blouse by Georgiou Studio, layered vest by Boom Boom Jeans, long cardigan by Kersh Essentials.

Confession: In numeric form, a grab bag of random -

1. That lady with the litter in SoCal should give M & I a baby. I took the petite and her friends to an especially infant-laden neighborhood cafe this afternoon, and my ovaries went into overdrive. This wee Asian baby waved at me with his little hand. All snuggled inside of his stroller. He couldn’t have been 10 mos.! Can they do that so soon? I’ve forgotten! I’m all out of practice! OMG!
2. I took my petite and her friends to the arcade today, where she and I scored 700+ tickets. We cashed ‘em in for candy (cherry pixie sticks!) and a fortune telling machine that’s all WIISSSHHHHHHRRHHHSSSHH! YES, BUT PROCEED WITH CAUTION! WHHHSSSSIIISISSHRRRRSSHHH!
3. There is a new Bachelor episode tonight and I am so so so impatient for it. DeAnna, where are you!?!?!? HURRY UP!
4. M & I have to go to the gym again tonight, for Operation Get Buff 2009. I’m scared. Hold me!