fitforafemme.com

Praise Dolly! The sun came out in a glorious way today! Not in that wintry, deceptive, incapable-of-penetrating-the-chill way, but in an honest-to-God Springtime sort of way. It was lovely. To be completely honest, I’ve been wearing this dress around the house like a muumuu or house dress, or a hearty old slip, so when it was time to put on proper clothes, I just tossed on the leggings and jacket and scooped my hair into a ponytail. Voila! It felt sinful and fantastic.

When we stepped out onto our little street to take these photos (M is really coming into her own as a style photographer), the kittens were out, the trees were green, bumblebees buzzed, I sipped my whiskey sour and reapplied my very red Besame lipstick with very red nails. Spring and I went at it hot and heavy. Alas, I fear the cold will come and go until it warms back up in earnest, but that’s OK. Today was wonderful.

So, spit it out! What are your big Valentine’s Day plans? We’re going to be lazy bears until the early evening, with small bites and cocktails at Annabelle’s and then to a “Share The Love” party being thrown by a friend of hers and her loverbird. It should be dreamy!

Of course, FFAF wouldn’t even be worth if not for y’all, so here’s a big wet lipstick-y femme kiss from me to you! XO!

I braved the drizzle to nail this FFAF post today, you guys! Drizzle and a steep, steep grade, not to mention this lingering head cold. Cloud cover mutes the otherwise dreamy view of the bay in the background, but maybe you can make it out just a little bit. When I took out my gloves to put them on this afternoon, I noticed a faint emerald green print on the inside. Upon closer inspection, the left glove shows the no. 7, and Lionel Le Grand beneath it. Inside of the right, Made In France Expressly for I. Magnin & Co.! I don’t know how I missed that before. I found them at an old Lutheran thrift shop in the East Bay, of all places. Years ago.

Anyway, this magical, high-waisted, uber-tight, red hot miniskirt. Unfortunately, it’s all sold out at modcloth.com, but I love it. They had another of its kind – the Da Vinci skirt – in a pretty purple shade, but that’s all gone, too! Next time I wear it, I’ll try more color, but I couldn’t help but femme fatale it up a bit for the first go-r0und.

CONFESSION: Last week I received a call out of the blue: Would you like two tickets to the opening night for A Christmas Carol? Why, yes, of course I would! I suppose it was a reward for good parental behavior (I donated several bottles of wine to the holiday auction) or perhaps for my offspring’s own stellar academic performance, regardless, the petite and I left the tomboy at home on a freezing Tuesday night and embarked on a mission in the heart of Union Square to the Geary or A.C.T. Theater (depending on a number of variants or preferences).

Not wanting to freeze my arse off yet insisting upon paying respect to the performances sartorially, I chose this glam-but-officious outfit, topped with leather gloves and a heavy wool pea coat. I haven’t seen the play since I last evolved politically,  but it was wonderful nonetheless. Very spooky and lively and pretty to look at and modernized for today’s ADD-addled audiences. During intermission, the petite and I sipped Orangina and champagne respectively, and it was a splendid evening.

PS. The socks are from Bloomingdale’s or Saks or something, and the fur is vintage. Of course.

PPS. WTF re: my skinny arms? I am convinced it’s the heavy velvet wide-leg pants skewing perspective, because NO.

CONFESSION: I know the rainbow heart print is a bit twee, but the button-up backline sold me on this dress. It’s a fairly well-made H&M number that I scored at a local thrift store for $5. It’s sweet and comfortable, and I love that it can be belted or not, paired with sky high heels and a skinny, studded, layered belt to punk it up a bit. Or not. (In fact, I’ve got a pair of killer moto-chic heels headed my way that I can’t wait to pair with this dress.)

SCENT: ARE WE READY FOR THE LAST OF THE LAST? I can’t say how pleased I am to be done with this sad, trashy collection of Victoria’s Secret fragrances, I honestly can’t. A friend of mine tweeted today about the arduous task of finishing a book she disliked. She started reading it in March. I think she read a bit of it each day. That’s torture. It’s exactly how I feel about this little scent experiment. Thank heavens it’s over with and I can now return to reviewing sniffs worth their salt.

Victoria’s Secret Very Sexy: I spritzed a bit on, turned to M and said, “Sweet, sharp floral…” and she added “…with citrus!” and sure enough, it’s described as a “sultry blend of sensual vanilla orchid, sparkling clementine and juicy blackberry.” It still smells like shitty potpourri and continues to on the drydown. I fail to comprehend why all of their scents are pitched as hyper sexy, alluring, come-fuck-me irresistible when they couldn’t be further from it. It’s so bad I can scarcely take satisfaction in the fact that I was right – and I love being right – the quality and caliber of their fragrances parallel the quality and caliber of their lingerie. I was open to being proven wrong or humbled, alas.

In summary, it’s all very black and white, kids. Like so:

PS. ZOMG, someone hold me back before I ruin everything I’ve been working toward and DYE MY HAIR these 84,000 colors:

CONFESSION: I love this dress so. It’s easy and comfortable, but pretty. It looks better without the white tights (points to anyone who gets the lyrical reference), and I’ll post it that way someday but it is COLD here, so tights you are. (Get it? Tights you are! Right you are! Ha!) My little kitty friend came to take pictures with me, she’s very affectionate; she’ll jump up and paw at me like a puppy might. It’s adorable. I love her!

SCENT: Let’s not dilly-dally, I’ve got a different Victoria’s Secret perfume on either arm just waiting to be scrubbed off, ach so:

God, just look at that packaging. Cue involuntary sneer! OK, OK. Super Model out of the vial makes me think of soft vanilla and citrus, orange, actually, like a creamsicle. (M’s favorite!) It’s terrible. She likes it, which concerns me, but she is sick after all. On the drydown, it becomes something like stale, matted cotton candy.

Dream Angels Heavenly (America’s No. 1 fragrance, according to the VS website) shows some promise right away – quince, cardamom, white peony – but fades into boring, stuffy mediocrity. I will definitely have to hold this up against Dream Angels Desire to compare the two.

Y’all? I only have one more of these crap vials to test and report, and the epic experiment is final. To celebrate this, I have a very special fragrance post in the works. All I can say is that it involves intimate peeks into the cologne closets of two roguish tomboys, and you will want to go to there. Just in time for the holidays, too! I can’t wait, and I bet neither can you. Until then, kittens!

XOXO,

SBJ

PS. This chair had a cold puddle. I sat in it. Bugger.

CONFESSION: Check-out at Hotel Vertigo. Super dreamy lobby. You can read more about it here, if you’d like. We are up and at ‘em on approximately 4-5 hrs. of sleep and absolutely pining for donuts and coffee. We weren’t sure how nightmarish the Love Parade malarkey would be, so we just dashed out of there right before noon and headed to our favorite Noe Valley donut shop. They have Peerless coffee there! A plus. Let’s see if you can guess what I’m thinking as I gaze fondly down upon that polished, gorgeous hunk of wood.

CONFESSION: It was so Fall on this day! Monday, to be exact. I used to loathe the grey + ivory combination, but I am for it this season, especially if you swap the predictable dash of mustard with a nice, predictable and lush rose instead. Ideally, in some sort of ridiculously lavish, ruffled suede. Mm. I guess I’m sort of a moron for not throwing on my pink posie Tulle coat on over this. Next time!

CONFESSION: We discovered that M hates shooting at night and Halloween today. I know, right? OK, so night shooting is HARD and a pain in the ass, but hating Halloween? I think I should remind her about candy corn and slutty costumes bonding with loved ones in a creepy way. In any case, I can’t let her hate Halloween until we’ve dressed up as Moroccan Tranny Patsy and Edina first. It’s our dream! I had fun on the night shoot; we explored the creepy alley across the street and I pretended to be scary and chased kittens around.

NOTE: I gave y’all a three-for-one because even though they were different pairs of jeans, they were still jeans. Never fear (esp. not you, H), I had heels on in both of the above and a brand spankin’ new pair of hella fierce Betsey Johnson tights that are dying to debut themselves.

QUERY: An extremely lovely and devoted reader recently wondered if I might do a Q & A here at FFAF, and you know what I thought? I thought I would, if you’d like. Feel free to send burning questions to fitforafemme@gmail.com and I’ll answer enthusiastically and in bulk to the best of my ability!

CONFESSION: Hurrah, hurrah for holiday weekends! Guess what?! WE ARE GOING TO DO SWEET AND BLISSFUL ABSOLUTELY NOTHING! Having been going relatively non-stop since we moved in, I cannot even begin to express how delighted I am that we’re going to lounge about in our pajamas well after noon, take long, shuffling strolls through the park like old people, giggle through messy, langorous brunches and dig our hands deep into the dirt of our wee urban garden. It’s going to be wonderful. We’re starting by heading to one of our favorite places in the Mission for lunch, The Liberties, because their happy hour is to die for and they are friendly.

(more…)