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When I was little, I read like a fiend. The librarian let me check my own stacks out. I’d emerge from the doors of my sleepy little library with a pile of books in my arms that teeter-tottered above my line of sight. When I was little and my family would nestle into a cabin high up in Trinity Alps each summer, I’d see one of those logging trucks with unbelievably massive bundles of cut trees on the road, and I’d burst into tears. Such a wee hippie! I don’t think I ever made the connection, nor did the hypocrisy occur to me then. I reckon this is a fine example of the blissful ignorance of youth.

Years later and I’ve still a deep, abiding fondness for books, and for cabins tucked into wilderness.

Places like Powell’s become a little wonderland.

I think during our very brief stay in Portland we ended up at Powell’s three times! I invested in a super bright book light, which is spectacularly nerdy but, like, I needed one for the road. The staff recommendations were really fun and the little rainbow flags were quite helpful in identifying The Gay. This location is called the City of Books, and as the website says, it’s the “largest used and new bookstore in the world…occupying an entire city block, the City stocks more than a million new and used books. Nine color coded rooms house over 3,500 different sections, offering something for every interest, including an incredible selection of out-of-print and hard-to-find titles.” I came dangerously close to dropping hundreds of dollars on big, weighty, beautiful books, but the limited space in our car and luggage anchored me to my better judgment.

(But seriously, when is it ever a BAD thing to buy another book? N E V E R.)

M very sweetly paused to snap these in the fashion section.

Riding Pants: The Gap
Tank: Nordstrom Rack
Denim: Old Navy
Vintage Scarf, Boots: Rock n’ Rose (Portland, OR)
Bag: Betsey Johnson

1360 miles
1 majestic waterfall
12 new towns we’ve never been to before
4 hours at Bite of Oregon beer, wine and food festival
9 hours of non-stop driving through the Pacific Northwest
nearly falling into the deepest lake in all of the United States
2 adorable companion goldfish delivered to us by room service

…learning that I actually thoroughly enjoy a good road trip after being certain for the past five years that I hate them unequivocally – PRICELESS!

And now we’re home, in fact we drove right into San Francisco’s deliciously foggy embrace late last night. Here are all the places we stopped in: Weed, Medford, Canyonville, Salem, Woodburn, Lowell Covered Bridge, Pleasant Hill, Salt Creek Falls, Crater Lake, Mazama, Klamath Falls, Bridge Bay, and of course Portland.

Sadly, we didn’t get to explore the Hawthorne District, but we did get a pretty good taste (and I do mean taste) of downtown and the Pearl, Old Town/Chinatown, Nob Hill, and Alberta Arts Districts. I took a bite out of a “Hot Hood” from the grilled gourmet PB&Js, made with Challah bread, black cherry jam, jalapeno, apple wood  smoked bacon, and PBJ’s peanut butter. That was after the savory fried pie, stuffed with BBQ pulled pork, from Whiffies. I drank an Old Curmudgeon paired with mouthwatering Draper Valley fried chicken and country gravy at the very new, very fantastic Irving St. Kitchen, made with Buffalo Trace bourbon, Aperol, Cynar, pepper jelly and lemon housemade grapefruit bitters.

If I discussed how incredibly marvelous their butterscotch pudding with brown ale caramel and crème fraîche was, or that it was complemented with a brown paper cone of caramel corn with curried peanuts, I’d have to change my panties and that’s rather inconvenient at the moment, so you’ll just have to find out for yourself.

And the shopping! Of course, there were a lot of typical big name chain stores, and the standard hippie-dippy weekend markets that pop up with common wares all over the Bay Area, but there are even more really outstanding boutiques featuring local, independent designers or craftspeople. For instance, the next FFAF will be set among the stacks at Powell’s! (Many FFAF household dollars were cheerfully spent at Powell’s.)

The photos here were taken in a room of big, beautiful doors for sale at Cargo, an importer of handpicked antiques and artifacts from around the world. It’s an incredible store, set in an enormous warehouse, and you can pore over the tables and shelves and cabinets for hours. (Friendly FFAF Tip: Bookmark this link, kids, the site goes live in about a month where you can order and ship their goods online!)

Dress: Fire Los Angeles
Boots: Rock n’ Rose (Portland, OR)
Denim: Old Navy
Pony Bag: Cargo’s own! (Hell yes, I bought it.)

In this extra-exclusive FFAF post, a few dapper tomboys reveal their secrets to smelling good. Read on for two rather different takes on the world of men’s cologne and how to wear it well.

Our first portion is from G of the awesome Can I Help You, Sir? (Seriously, if you’re not reading this, you should be! It’s the adventures of G, with hot lists of swoon-worthy femmes and discussion on all things butch. RAD.)

G says: My preference is for clean, fresh or in some cases, woodsy scents with an underlying masculine feel. I tend to stay away from the spicy colognes, as they’re too heavy. I don’t want my scent to be noticed as soon as I walk in the room; I’d rather it be noticed because someone had to lean in closely to talk to me.

My top 3:

• Armani Code for Men: I think it’s the combination of the lemon and the wood that really does it for me with this scent. One of the things I like best about it is that it’s definitely masculine without being overwhelming, which is an elusive quality with all the macho colognes out there.

• Burberry Classic for Men: I really love what Burberry does with their fragrances, especially this one. It just smells great on my skin. It’s been around for a while, but it’s still one of the first ones I grab as I’m getting ready. The top notes of bergamot, cedar and amber really do it for me. I also own Burberry London, Brit and Beat, and I love them all.

• Banana Republic Slate: I love the fresh scent of this cologne, which relies basically on a blend of ginger and citrus notes. Those two together give it the a quality that is tough for me to find, which is clean AND inviting. It also just feels like a simple, easy-to-wear cologne, which I really like.

My choices also vary a bit depending on the season. These ones are all good fall/winter selections. I have different standbys in the summer that are a little lighter with more prominent citrus undertones (Dolce & Gabbana Light Blue is a favorite).

Next up is our very own M, who needs no introduction.

M says: OK! This is about colognes!

First, much like G, I treat most colognes like seasons. Summer scents are not okay in the winter, unless there’s some sort of obscene heat wave that drives all the sea lions from Pier 39 all the way to Oregon. There are a few that are transcendental, though, and can be enjoyed year round, not unlike peach cobbler (Team Pie! Niiiiiiiiiice. – SBJ).

• I like spicy  (but earthy) colognes in the fall and winter. Serge Lutens Borneo 1834 and John Varvatos Vintage are good examples. The Varvatos in particular smells like you just made an emergency landing with your prop plane in a mossy forest, survived, and so did your flask. It is quiet-handsome-action-hero-ruggedness! Tobacco, dirt, woods, gasoline, smoke!

• I am loathe to admit this, because Tom Ford is a giant dickbag, and most of his colognes reek like urinal cakes, but I really liked his Black Orchid cologne for Men. Fuck you, Tom Ford (but also: good job)! I plan to steal some from a department store so Mr Ford doesn’t profit. This makes me feel better. Anyway, why I liked it- even though he is like an attention-whorey-Vegas-casino, the cologne is more like an Olympic fencer: surprisingly subtle.

• Summer and Spring call for lighter, cleaner/fresher scents, to go with lighter clothing. Although I am all out, Creed Silver Mountain Water is my favorite. It is light and clean and not FRUITY! I don’t want to smell like food. Only food should smell like food! In fact, I have a household ban on any non-food product that smells like food (candles, soaps, cleaning products, etc). Okay, okay, I made one exception for a fig candle.

Tomboy Out!

I hope y’all enjoyed this! I sure as hell did. Now you have a whole roll call of fancy men’s cologne to get your tomboys or boy toys! (Or to try yourselves – I know I have some tough guys lurking out there!) In other news, M just smoothed a palmful of Lacoste all over the puppies. Sigh. As a bonus gift from me to you, take a peek at some covert butch stuff below – we femmes aren’t the only hoarders! – SBJ