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It’s been an incredibly busy week at work, but happily so. Plus, I found out I have lunch buddies I could hit with a quarter if the windows from my office opened (they tend not to in skyscrapers), they’re that close, so I won’t have to go to the Ferry Building all by myself like I have been (though sometimes I imagine I will, because there’s something a little bit magical about that, especially on a warm day with gloriously blue skies). I’m lucky enough to get away with outfits like this at work, for the most part, even when it’s not a Friday!

Urban Heritage light denim, pink blouse, Free People floral blazer, vintage necklace and leather belt from Modcloth.
Madden Girl conical nude pumps.

I’m watching Moulin Rouge! It’s one of my absolute favorite movies of all time. I told M that I would just watch the beginning. Right now, Satine is walking out of the theatre to send Christian away, and I swear to God I would wear the outfit she’s got on in this scene every day for the rest of my life if I could. (It’s the long gray wool suit, with the matching hat and veil.) M & I are sipping some cocktails that I made with this new American gin we’re trying called Leopold’s. I muddled some fresh strawberries with fresh-squeezed lemon juice and a fistful of basil, added gin and some lavender-infused simple syrup, and they are heavenly. (I love how when Satine is crying and singing on stage her make-up is all jacked, and she doesn’t look perfection, but it doesn’t matter, because she loves, damn it. Oops, this is very definitely the end of the movie now.)

I got a new product from the Fekkai line and I can’t wait to try it:

I got tickets to this and I can’t wait to go!

Action shots, Bird looking very thirsty, my new muddler from Sur La Table:

Welcome to my Party On! Pants Off! outfit. I really just cannot imagine a gayer outfit utterly devoid of rainbows than this, kids. You’ve got your sequins and your stars and your crazy ruffles and lots of leg and your body glitter and a completely nonsensical pattern / paint-splattered motif. In gold. There are lipstick bullets around my neck and an actual bullet-sized lipstick tucked neatly away in the warmth of my cleavage, and of course it’s in an obscene shade of red also used to color my lips and ARE YOU CRAZY don’t even think my nail polish deviates from the exact same poppy red.

The breakdown, because heaven knows this was no easy task (especially when it was time to pee):

Romper, Brooklyn Flea
Star-shaped tights, Betsey Johnson
Cut-out moto pumps, Modcloth
Lipstick bullet necklace, Culp Baubles
Lipstick, Besame Cosmetics

I’m fairly certain this number will never see the light of day, and I’m okay with that. The tights have runs in them a mile long and I’m okay with that, too. I flailed around so very enthusiastically with the tomboy to a Grease medley that night that I toppled over a very full whiskey sour of mine, fresh from the bar, and I’m okay with that (even if it still hurts, a little). A friend of ours gifted me with a Midori-issue tank top that says “ALL NATURAL MELONS” across it. I bartered a pair of neon green Wayfarers for an epic jar with a handle on it, which M now guards with her life.

When midnight came and it was officially M’s birthday, we dutifully did tequila shots at the bar and I crawled around rather helpfully all over the Supper Club beds and we danced to that really dirty reggaetón song we both love, Gasolina. It was a spectacular night, and not wearing pants was a pretty big part of it. I’m hoping Ms. Jackson and Party Ben and co. can be convinced to hold pants-free parties at least once a month, because the vibe is genuinely special.

And before you bossies call me a total tease for not posting waist-down photos of the infamous bandage dress from Flourish, here you go:

MORE PRIDENESS COMING SOON!

HELLO THERE. How the hell are you? It’s Memorial Day, are you enjoying yourselves? We are. It’s been a merry four-day weekend, and we’ve managed to perfect the balance between being lazy and resting without missing this wondrous sun gracing the rain-soaked city, running to and fro. If you’d asked me if I thought it would get hot enough to wear these shorts this weekend, I probably would have popped you one. M’s been dying to wear hers for at least a month.

These photos are from the little walkabout we took BEFORE our massive, late sunny afternoon Pimm’s Cups.

I don’t know about y’all, but M’s outfit here makes me think of tag football, grass stains and making out at dusk on a park bench. We both took advantage of the RVCA Memorial Day sale, and M scored this new shirt. Mine is also new and the lightest, softest silk-cotton blend. It’s, like, the perfect shirt for dancing around braless with no pants and a whiskey coke in your hand, on the hottest summer nights.

We found this spot in a narrow alley behind a mortuary near our place. I don’t understand this shelf or why it’s placed here, sandwiched between garages and trash bins of all things, but there it was, little Lady of Guadalupe and all. Perhaps people put candles on it and pray or something. How nice! While I pondered all of this very seriously, M snapped photos. Obviously. My favorite thing of all on our walk is the sidewalk graffiti a bit further down. They’re so lovely! Sometimes I think we’ve got the most delightful graffiti of all here, underfoot and ever-changing.

You didn’t think I’d mention it and not post the video, did you?

Damn this SF second coming of winter. It’s revolting! All I have to keep me warm is a tomboy, two pups and the Hot 100 list of real queer girls at Autostraddle. I suppose it’ll all have to do. All that and some thick leggings. Leggings.

Anyway, I wore this outfit to the post-fight party we attended on Saturday night. It’s a great little thrifted dress also written up here, topped by my snazzy little blazer and a sedate side ponytail. It was a hit! I got compliments from strangers in line at Mitchell’s Ice Cream (fetching a delicious Mexican chocolate ice cream cake for the guest of honor) and party-goers alike. I really, really wish I’d gotten a photograph of the Noam Chomsky tote bag this one girl had, it was kind of AMAZEBALLS.

I didn’t actually fall asleep in this stairwell. It was an early night. Want details, dear readers? OKEEDOKEE:

Dress, thrifted
Blazer, Paper Doll Clothing L.A.
Leggings, Nordstrom Rack
Shoes, Modcloth
Bag, Betsey Johnson
Belt, NO IDEA (maybe Buffalo Exchange)
Black Onyx Pendant, vintage

THE EYELASHES ARE ALL FRESH FIREBIRD + SUPERNOVA ACTION, YO.

Sometimes I really stick my head where it should not go.
Like into tiny puppy houses.

Did I mention that M might bring me some creamsicle kittens tomorrow? It’s true. She might.

The above just blew your mind, I know, so here’s a clockwise from top left explanation:

• M reading the menu at Sparky’s. I was so adamant about pancakes, but we ended up splitting a massive chicken parm.
• M pouting over agonizing eye wear choices at the chic and friendly Eye Dare office.
• M demonstrated her best DeNiro squint and a delicious graham cracker.
• Boots the kitten comes when we call her over. So does Scab. And Pimp Gandalf, but not Blanket.
• Pretty damn good chicken parm for a 24-hour diner. Plus, cute gay waiter boys and singing patrons.
• The creepy doll that greets you at Sparky’s.
• Some street art/porn to keep the Valencia sidewalk extension project construction workers* motivated.
• The mystery palm that showed up overnight in our little garden. Weird!

This is the day we walked over 3 miles! I really, really love our meandering walks through the Mission and surrounding ‘hoods like Bernal, Noe and Castro. We pop in and out of cute shops and boutiques, we giggle, we eat, we drink, we cross a few items off of our To Do list, we people watch, we peruse real estate, we mussy-sikk, we’re RIDICULOUS. It’s just completely spontaneous, unplanned bliss, and neither of us cares much that we said we’d be here or there or “should” be somewhere else. It’s what the best weekends are made of!

What are your best weekends made of in your neighborhood? (Otherwise, let’s face it, we’d all say something absurd like BORA BORA!)

*I am sure this is not the official name of the project.
**My ankles don’t even BELONG to me, they’re so shockingly white. No, seriously. Look at them. What the hell?!

HELLO, KITTENS!

How the hell are you? It’s been a week! A whole week!

Before anything else: Thank you for voting for Fit For A Femme, even if we didn’t win a Lezzy Award this year, we stood up there with the big dogs and it was totally awesomesauce, and I lovelovelove y’all for voting day in and day out with all your might.

So, I got this mini whilst thrifting for, like, $2, NWT. It makes for a great casual, relaxed look, but where the hell does The Gap get off charging $50 for a tiny denim miniskirt? Not that it isn’t great. It is. It’s just that I wouldn’t dream of wearing this without leggings on underneath. It’s SCANDALOUSLY short. And tiny. And not worth that crazy sticker price, which makes finding it for next to nothing that much sweeter. I went BANANAS thrifting last week. It was a month-end clearance sale, and I got 15 super awesome pieces – from a beautiful azure blue sunhat with the most dramatic brim to an armful of calico sundresses for Spring to a soft chestnut brown shrunken velvet blazer (it screams equestrian) – for just under $35 and in less than 1.25 hours. SCORE. Shopping = femme sports.

What else? Oh, you know, not much. I completed my utterly life-changing self-defense training on Sunday, and new bruises are STILL popping up all over my body. Badges of honor, my instructor calls them. I had the privilege of fighting FIVE fights at my graduation ceremony (with M and the petite there to support and cheer me on), instead of the standard three. DO NOT MESS, Y’ALL.

I was just named a member of the Femme Collective, which is gearing up for Femme2010: No Restrictions this August. Femmes, mark your calendars (and reserve your spot on the infamous Skinny + M sofabed now if you’re an out-of-towner)! Speaking of M, she and I are headed across the Bay Bridge next week for a meeting with other legally wed California couples to discuss next steps as powerful advocates for marriage equality, which I’m really excited about. Writing checks and being visible and all that is well and good, but I never feel like I’m doing enough unless I’m doing.

I will be a busy girl. A busy, happy, girly girl!

Also, we just ordered her a pair of these dapper new shoes:

Palettes! THESE ARE A LOT OF COLORS. But it works.

I’ve had this really fabulous Kenneth Cold necklace forever and as far as I can tell, it’s made a single, sad little appearance on this blog.

I still remember buying it!

M & I were at this amazing, super industrial outlet store near our old place – in its heyday, I’d leave with an armful of shoes, and its slow decline saddened me – and I saw it in the glass case. The brown leather is unbelievably supple and buttery, and the little pearls randomly strewn through out this textured silver, well, I died. Of course, I took it home, never once suspecting it’d end up around my waist one day.

I love it this way and probably ought to have more faith in its construction, but I was a little afraid all my rigorous running around and climbing up and down rickety old stepladders might break it. It turns out fate would take care of that for me, when I spilled a shitload of cooking oil all over the front of the dress whilst preparing for dinner with poor scientist. will blog for food, requiring a head-to-toe wardrobe change.

It happens to the best of us, right? Or maybe just me. Hm.

Hey, are you voting daily? You know, to help FFAF win a richly deserved 2009 Lezzy Award? WELL, GEEZ, GET VOTING ALREADY!