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I’d talk about how abhorrent The Lovely Bones is, but I prefer to discuss pleasant things. Like the fact that we’ve all kicked off a three-day weekend. Like the fact that I came home to a cheeky tomboy with a gorgeous bouquet of blush roses just for me, and lasagna baking in the oven, and an array of tiny Haagen-Dazs cups of ice cream in the freezer, bottles of bubbly chilling in the fridge and fat, happy cinnamon rolls waiting to be baked in the morning for breakfast. Very pleasant things.

I’m going to curl up with my newest collection of locally penned shorts (Instant City, Issue No. 6, snagged at Gypsy Honeymoon in the Mission) in bed, with a brand new sparkling cocktail that is so, so good: splash of spiced pear vodka (ours is crafted by Hangar One, of course), splash of raspberry pink lemonade, topped with your sparkling beverage of choice. Not-too-sweet, perfectly crisp and refreshing!

Bonjour, readers! A little bit ago a fledgling butch wrote in asking for some help in the tomboy department. I handed it over to M and I’m posting the exchange here in case it helps you or a tomboy you know. Enjoy!

Hey FFAF,

I love your blog, not least of all because you are highly enjoyable eye candy (do you mind? Such a silly question! – FFAF), but also because you clearly have an eye for fashion.  In fact, you remind me of my own femme. I have to admit though, that I scour your pictures for glimpses of M, and what she’s wearing – also, clearly put together.  I was wondering if you could relay a question from me to her.

I’ve realized I’m not in college anymore and I probably shouldn’t wear sneakers everywhere (even though I love them).  I’m in desperate need of a pair of shoes to wear to work, but I’ve decided NOT to wear the Stuart Weitzman black patent pumps my mom got for me.  I’m sure, as a femme, that your heart is breaking upon hearing this – don’t worry, I’m finding them a good home – but my butch feet just can’t stand them.  Plus, my coworkers say I look silly, looking like a rugby player teetering around on tiny little pumps.  Ha!

I guess this is my first foray trying to buy butch-appropriate dress shoes.  Do you have any tips?  I wear a women’s size 8.5, and my understanding is that it translates to a men’s 6.5, narrow width.  Is the width important?  How do I find these teeny men’s shoes?  And how do I make sure that my shoes aren’t “too butch”? Is there such a thing?

Your help is much appreciated…I’m still a newly minted butch.  Or, always butch in attitude, finally realizing how to dress. Thanks! - Newly Minted Butch

Dear Newly Minted Butch,

Thanks for writing! Let’s see if we can’t help you sort this out. Unless you have a super skinny foot, the normal width should be fine. Also, depending on the amount of walking to be done, you want to possibly go up half a size to make room for insoles (recommended) and thickness of sock (I don’t like super thin men’s socks, they feel weird on my foot!!).

Therefore, I would start with a normal size 7 and see how those feel. Skater shoes are usually pretty snug to begin with, so I’d go another half size up for that. So, maybe a 6.5 for fancy shoes that won’t be worn everyday, a size 7 for everyday business casual (to make room for an insole), and a size 7 for any athletic/skater shoes.

Much like with clothing – take jeans, for instance – you find that certain brands or lines or stores carry types that suit you best. Shoes are no different! It’s why I tend to stick with a small number of brands, but more about that at the end. Here are an assortment of suggested possibilities in your estimated size to get you started:

Black Leather Oxfords from Kenneth Cole, $115

The Bicycle-Toed Shane Oxford from Fitwell, $91

If you’re anything like me and don’t like laces…Ecco’s New York Hand Sewn Slip-On, $125

Ankle boots are the best! Prada Men’s Chelsea Brown Leather Boots, $400

Skater shoes! Osiris 247 in 4 Color Combos, $64

A note on brands: I like Kenneth Cole shoes for fancy/business, and DC or Adio for skater shoes. For affordable, current, handsome enough ankle-length boots you’ll blast through in a year or so, try Aldo – during sales you can pick up a pair for as little as $50/pair, but they run out of sizes quickly, so act fast. Though if I were super rich, I’d probably just buy a pair of Prada boots and maybe a pair of DSquared2 boots to be ultra-ghey once per year.

Alta 4 Evening Ankle Boot byDSquared2™, $925

Be sure to report back! And don’t, you know, let this stop you from scouring the blog for photos of me in the future!

- M

CONFESSION: One of my favorite San Francisco quotes is this one, One day if I do go to heaven I’ll look around and say, ‘It ain’t bad, but it ain’t San Francisco’. Oh, to be here. Quotes about San Francisco are always love letters, lavish or gritty, meandering or ravenous, but that’s one of my favorites. On Saturday night, after a very long day of chauffeuring one of M’s old MIT classmates and his lovely wife around our fair and fickle city for their new home, we discovered we were bring sprinkled upon. It was, well…spittle from the sky, basically, but in July. It brought with it a double rainbow (like the ice cream!) and the sweetest fresh rain smell on our sweet little block, which is greener than most.

I am happy to report that they got the flat they wanted best – they sign the lease tonight and are making a cross-country move from New York City to San Francisco this August. It was actually super fun to check out some of the places we had to pass up that wouldn’t take pets! As a thanks, they took us to dinner at Sinbad’s, an old-fashioned, super romantic seafood restaurant situated right on Pier II, adjacent to The Slanted Door. Watching night tuck the last bit of twilight away was gorgeous, especially with the Bay Bridge looking right over our shoulders. I got lost in wistfulness just looking at it…I knew I’d miss that drive over the water, heading into San Francisco, in some ways just as special as being a part of it.

Also, we bought a very dreamy couch from Pier 1. Praise Dolly.

Here’s another bit about San Francisco-as-heaven, one of the best parts from HBO’s Angels In America (though I’d do very bad things in order to see it onstage, in a heartbeat):

Roy Cohn: [under the impression that Belize is the Angel of Death] Can I ask you something, sir?
Belize: [going along with it] “Sir”?
Roy Cohn: What’s it like? After?
Belize: After…?
Roy Cohn: This misery ends?
Belize: Hell or heaven?
Roy Cohn: …heh…
Belize: Like San Francisco.
Roy Cohn: A city! Good! I was worried… it’d be a garden. I hate that shit.
Belize: Mmmm. Big city. Overgrown with weeds, but flowering weeds. On every corner a wrecking crew and something new and crooked going up catty corner to that. Windows missing in every edifice like broken teeth, gritty wind, and a gray high sky full of ravens.
Roy Cohn: Isaiah.
Belize: Prophet birds, Roy. Piles of trash, but lapidary like rubies and obsidian, and diamond-colored cowspit streamers in the wind. And voting booths. And everyone in Balenciaga gowns with red corsages, and big dance palaces full of music and lights and racial impurity and gender confusion. And all the deities are creole, mulatto, brown as the mouths of rivers. Race, taste and history finally overcome. And you ain’t there.
Roy Cohn: And Heaven?
Belize: That was Heaven, Roy.
Roy Cohn: The fuck it was!

Confession: Since I will be attending a local fashion show tonight to review AND shoot it for my new gig, I must away, for I’ve an appt. in an hour with the Aveda people to get my locks cut. Question: Will Skinny slice and dice her long tresses for summer, or just leave them be save a modest trim and touch-up? OH, GOD. I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO.

Scent: L’Artisan Fleur de Narcisse. Something must be up, because this is the second fragrance in a row that I’ve felt is lacking in sweetness. Normally, I find things too sweet! Granted, this is before the dry down, but still. There’s the pristine white floral, something dry and cedar-y and almost smoky, a stern edge. Blond tobacco! Leather! The last note surprises me, while the others – narcissus, hay, hyacinth, blond tobacco, iris, blackcurrant bud, moss – do not. One review said that it’s rather like a roll in the hay, or “…think of Lady Chatterley and her gamekeeper and you will have a very good idea of what goes on in Fleur de Narcisse.” I beg to differ. There is no forbidden sex here. At least not on my skin! (Well, you know what I mean.) I would wear this to a friend’s wedding with a lovely, elegant dress on a summer’s day. That’s what it’s like to me. Well-behaved, beautiful and serene.

PS. Perhaps I like my leathers to be too aggressive, doused in gasoline and dragged through dirty, rumbled linens. Who can say? If anything, this is new leather, not yet begging to be broken in. Is it Friday? Are we talking about sex? Huh? What? Nothing!
PPS. I meant rumpled, of course, but have decided that rumbled works just as well. Sometimes it’s less a roll than a rumpus!

Scent: Santa Maria Novella’s Toscano was lovely at first, it really was. I didn’t know whether or not this was a feminine or masculine scent, because while it had aspects of the latter it was still quite sweet and alluring – it’s actually unisex! It began like a curious, unexpected filling in an otherwise predictable cookie, but unfortunately, after the dry down all that was left was a lingering sweet rice note that reminded me of my cunty Filipino grandmother, so that was that.

For everyone else, the fragrance, with notes of bergamot, jasmine, tobacco, birch leaf, vanilla, burnt malt and amber, is typically well-received and noted for being “easy to wear.” The official description reads “…inspired by the famous Toscano cigars of Lucca in Italy, Santa Maria Novella’s latest addition Tabacco Toscano opens with a sparkling fruity-floral note and quickly changes into a warm and leathery yet airy tobacco scent.”

Confession: So, I am pretty sure that I’m still high on adrenaline from my women’s self-defense class tonight. It was so fantastic. There were two instructors; one young woman who did most of the work and coaching, and a lanky guy with tattoos who was trained to be the assailant in the padded suit. In the group, reasons for taking the class ranged from recent muggings to rape to feeling unsafe in general or vague and frankly upsetting feelings of being unsafe in one’s own home. Oh, and a few women had recently moved to sketchier neighborhoods. In terms of age and ethnicity, we were equally diverse. My friend was taking it for the 5th time and had brought another friend of hers along, too.

I BEAT THE CRAP OUT OF THE PADDED DUDE, YO.

God, it was so fantastic. We did a lot of verbal and body language exercises, but we also learned a handful of strikes and did a few full-force fights with the padded guy. The first time I fought back he went down after just the second strike! (The highly trained faux-assailants are taught to “go down” when they feel a KO or knock-out strike. I didn’t realize that and returned to the line pouting and asking my friend why I only got to hit him twice when everyone else got at least THREE strikes! Ha.)

It wasn’t even wombmoon, and I was very thankful for that. The pacing was pretty good and everyone was really supportive. Any questions that were asked got satisfactory and educational answers or responses.  Sudden or unexpected emotional bouts were handled with respect and focus. (Warning: Being faux-attacked from behind is REALLY intense in a bad way, but that’s the point. I did not get upset, but my friend assures me that the longer course will require waterproof mascara.) I feel really good for doing it!

In conclusion, I am so so so sold on signing up for the 3-day (24 hrs. of training) course as soon as I can afford it, for it is NOT cheap. Alas, my safety is priceless. After that course, I probably want to sign up for their advanced weapons course, too. They have another advanced course for handling multiple assailants at once, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself!

Seriously, if I won the lottery one of the first things I’d do is fly all my friends and loved ones and yes, even you, FFAF readers, and the Impact trainers to a villa in Antigua for unlimited private training, and it would be amazing.

This is from a different academy, but you’ll get the gist:

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.

Confession: My new best friends are designed for ballerinas, but I am fancy enough to kick it. I needed change for the parking meter at my threading appointment last night, and instead of popping into the bar or a restaurant, I wandered into a sparkly dance boutique. Ooh. I grabbed a pair of awesome tights/leggings that seem extra durable and came in the prettiest shade of cornflower blue for $13, and saw a display case with these enormous, monster-sized hair pins.

Bunheads hair pins. It was love at first sight. I held my breath and took the plunge, hoping against hope that elaborate french twists and the like could be mine, at last. My hair has just enough Asian-y slip and impossible thickness that regular bobby pins and clips are a joke. I got the 3″ pins in brown and they are AMAZING. Seriously. I used four for a messy chignon and a tidy bun, and I am totally, totally shocked that they hold all of my hair in place. At $6 for one dozen pins, they’re a steal.

I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before!

*Boots by Charles David. Too lazy to change in .JPG!