fitforafemme.com

First things first, today is the 13th annual International Transgender Day of Remembrance, so perhaps take just a moment to honor those no longer with us, support those we’re lucky enough to have in our lives today, and keep fighting transphobia. Amos Mac, of Original Plumbing and Translady Fanzine fame, wrote this touching piece about Gwen Araujo, and our friends at Autostraddle have a wonderful open thread going, and I really recommend checking out both!

Gwen was a 17-year-old local who was murdered in 2002 by four young men in a brutal hate crime, and hers was the first memorial of its kind that I’d ever attended. I remember it being very somber and despondent, and frighteningly unfamiliar (I was so sheltered then, still very much a baby dyke). However, it was also softly and sadly determined, for while a vivacious, courageous transgender teen was gone and would be deeply mourned by many, the community’s response was deafening: Gwen’s life would be remembered and celebrated with a strength that wouldn’t stop until it drowned out the ignorance and hatred that took it away.

Throughout all of this, a high school in Gwen’s town was putting on a production of The Laramie Project, and so an already badly shaken student body and faculty found themselves facing a different type of incomprehensible hate: Fred Phelps and his Westboro Baptist psychopaths.

I hardly remember how it happened or who I was with, but one night I found myself among the protective circle of Angel Action folks standing outside of the entrance Newark Memorial High School, wearing those big fluffy angel wings in the cold, all of us doing our best to shield the performers and audience members from those rotten sons of bitches. It was a really small, very tiny thing, but doing anything felt better than doing nothing in the wake of a tragedy like that.

(PS. I’m donating 25% of all sales this week to the Transgender Law Center, so go take a peek at my Etsy shop, Loverbirds, and shop for change…social change! Or go and buy an awesome t-shirt from Revel & Riot – a portion of all proceeds go to LGBTQ rights and equality groups, and they’ll make excellent stocking stuffers.)

In other news, it appears I’m getting sick. This is horrific timing, as I have two elaborate desserts to make for Thanksgiving, and a bit of tinkering yet to do for our signature Turkey Day cocktails! We’re also preparing for lots and lots of house guests, and I just haven’t got the time to be sick! DID I MENTION IT’S THANKSGIVING?! I’m lucky to have such a marvelous, caring wife. (She’s already volunteered to make my cheesecakes, and I’m pretty sure I can get her to agree to cocktail taste-testing, too!)

Fingers crossed that it’s nothing several mega-doses of Vitamin C and lots of hot tea and whatnot can’t fix. Let’s chat about this outfit, shall we? I don’t think y’all have this leather skirt from Zara yet, even though I’ve worn it out and about a handful of times since I got it eight whopping months ago. I just wore it out with thick black tights and a neon green collared shirt under a black crewneck sweater, in fact! This time I topped it with an H&M t-shirt and faux fur vest, a pair of Hue tights, and my Dolce Vita platform mules. It’s cold out, so I decided to layer leather on top of leather with my Elie Tahari jacket.

I piled on lots of bracelets and rings, mixed new and vintage necklaces, and grabbed a cheeky vintage bag. We took these on our drenched tennis courts, and I love the watery effect it brought to the photos, don’t you? XO!

Last night, M & I went to a party at an aviation museum and the dress code was “business casual”. I realize that one might not consider sequins or an aviator cap meeting-appropriate, per se, but we felt the leeway was acceptable given the occasion (a party). It was awesome!

Life-sized models of the very first man-powered aircraft (successful or not) were laid out in all their rudimentary glory, all the way up to Boeing cockpits from the passenger jets of today. Of course, our favorites were the helicopters and airplanes from the 1940s and 1950s, and they had these amazing, fancily clad mannequins of yesteryear for a more genuine effect. Adorable.

We crashed every last flight simulator we got into – including an old hovercraft prototype – and it was just a lot of silly fun. Of course, M wore her vintage wings and leather aviator cap. (Poor thing fully expected to get a ride in a plane and I wanted to, too, alas.) Yes, in that photo above we are “flying”.

It was amazing to see miniatures of futuristic models, too, like the vertical landing and takeoff joint heavy lift rotorcraft:

In other news , holy macaroni and cheese, kittens, I got bangs! Soft, whispery, no-biggie bangs. I haven’t had truly serious bangs since early 2007, and they were VERY serious:

In short, too hard. Too much work, a bitch to keep up, grow out, etc. I loved them, but they totally traumatized me. I am not a girl who blow dries her hair. Curlers, sure. Curling irons I have down to a perfect science, but bangs this serious require rigorous styling and training almost constantly, which I am not for at this time. (Maybe later, though. I’m seriously considering a bob in the future. OK, jaw-length. Like in 2004, but modified for 2010.)

Let’s hope these are a bit easier to manage. I am rather fond of them!

Confession: Ta-da! New birdie dress. I love it. It’s comfortable and easy and a gorgeous cornflower blue I so love, even if I hated the actual crayon when I was little. Let bygones be bygones! Today my loverbird fed me breakfast in bed – freshly baked croissants and delicious Peerless coffee – and then we made fancy little fried chicken sandwiches and arranged sneaky booze and set out for Dolores Park in San Francisco, because it was a glorious day. The bay was choppy, a million sailboats and windsurfers were out and while the park was windy, it was deliciously warm whenever the breeze slowed down. We snuggled and read books and snacked and giggled a lot because…

DOLORES PARK IS FULL OF THE MOST AMUSING ATTENTION WHORES.

Our favorites were the hipsters pretending to play Scrabble, the guy rope-walking barefoot between a few palms and the guitar singalong Brazilians camped out a few yards away from us. At some point a young guy rode by on his bicycle with paper-wrapped flowers for some lucky lass, which was adorable. There was a tiny black puppy flopping all over himself next to us, and while we missed the creme brulee guy, we politely declined the pretty ganja truffles for sale.

I read this book, which I’m enjoying very much:

Now here is a little collection of some photos from our picnic. Clockwise from left:

1. Tomboy shoes, femme shoes.
2. My crazy Gap Kids sunglasses in electric blue.
3. Luna Park is one of our Mission favorites, with their delicious fancy baby corn dogs.
4. Fancy couple next to a scooter.
5. Skinneh!
6. Open your golden gates!
7. A cuddle.
8. A bashful cuddle.
9. A friendly cuddle.
10. Obnoxious Brazilians!
11. The essentials.
12. The high school. I think.
13. The palms.
14. The tomboy.
15. Young man with flowers.
16. HS.
17. Legs.
18. Ice cream!

Some Oakland love, clockwise from left:

1. Most handsome building on the block.
2. Tomboy face.
3. Oakland Waterfront Warehouse District has official trash cans, so why is this one beside it?
4. Paper company.
5. Headless house.
6. Korres kiss.
7. Fantasy and reality.
8. Brickhouse lofts.

When: Tues., February 10th, 2009.

What: H&M dress and orange knit arm warmers. Black tights from Old Navy, satin blouse from Libertine for Target, satin bow headband from Claire’s (shut up). Black peacoat by Blanc Noir and boots by Lamica.

Scent: Serge Lutens Un Lys, oh. Since most flowers are obviously girls, let’s imagine a dear lily stumbling upon a fetching lilac, falling madly in love and living happily ever after. ON MY WRIST. Until a vicious, cruel and incurable case of LBD sets in (read = the dry down) and all that’s left is the sickly sweet memory of what once was. Still, the love here is so, so pure and stunning. Lily and Lilac share the kind of love that makes everyone around them want to be in love, too. After a few hours this turns into creamy vanilla and just the whisper of floral left…too sweet and flat. If this fragrance were a grainy old foreign film, it would be absolutely perfect.

Confession: AYL! I have decided that I must first clean my room before I even think about taking photos of my closet. Both are an absolute wreck, but I’m working on it! Also? Y’all, tomorrow is the anniversary of the day (night, really) M and I first met four years ago! DREAMY. Let’s just all take a minute and thank Dolly that she and I met one night so long ago, because neither of us believes in the Oxford comma, God or neglecting booze! Soulmates!

Happy anniversary, angelface! I love you so!

FINALLY! The low-down on our crispy September wedding wardrobe.

When: Monday, Sept. 15th, 2008.

Femme What: Sully Bonnelly gown. Silver trench by Lapis (from previous slideshow). Peep-toe pumps by Carlos by Carlos Santana. DIY fancy hat courtesy of all things hella gay at Michael’s, incl. Swarovski crystals, golden pheasant plumage in bronze, assorted ribbons and voile fabric. Tuberose bouquet and boutonniere courtesy of The Meadows on College Avenue.

Tomboy What: Gray corduroy suit and white dress shirt by Express for Men. Tie by Calvin Klein, shoes by Kenneth Cole.

Newlywed Confession: More wedding photos from the femme & M. You’re welcome, kittens! XO.

[vodpod id=ExternalVideo.742604&w=425&h=350&fv=host%3Dpicasaweb.google.com%26captions%3D1%26noautoplay%3D1%26RGB%3D0x000000%26feed%3Dhttp%253A%252F%252Fpicasaweb.google.com%252Fdata%252Ffeed%252Fapi%252Fuser%252Fmissjonesey%252Falbumid%252F5266483623775917649%253Fkind%253Dphoto%2526alt%253Drss%2526authkey%253DfA-A3bydO5A]