fitforafemme.com

So, we haven’t got any outstanding FFAF photos from the wedding you’ve heard so much about, but we have a VERY good reason for it.

#1 reason: An actual madman went on a rampage through our posh 4.5-star hotel, setting off fire alarms which forced all guests to evacuate while the police and fire department got everything sorted out. No one was hurt, thankfully, but our floor was particularly affected by the damage and to give you an idea of how badly behind schedule we’d got: I WAS LITERALLY STEPPING INTO THE SHOWER WHEN M STARTED HOLLERING ABOUT A FIRE ALARM. Out we went, and then we waited. By the time the coast was clear, we had 40 minutes to get ready (and that was after calling our driver and pleading with him to give us an extra ten minutes before fetching us for the drive to Lincoln). The wedding was a 35-minute drive away from Boston proper, and you bet your ass I was sitting in the back of that Lincoln cursing under my breath, putting on finishing touches, and trying not to panic.

Praise Dolly, by the grace of I-don’t-know-what we got to the wedding with just about ten minutes to spare before guests were seated – long enough to say hello to some dear friends and sip a little champagne. The wedding was beautiful, perfectly suited to the giddy, gorgeous couple, with a few lovely pinches of tradition thrown in with the modern art and some cheeky hilarity here and there.

We had so much fun and it was beautiful out. Not traditionally beautiful, no clear skies and sunshine, but the rain slowed to an ethereal, slightly spooky mist that just clung to the air and lingered in the trees. It was wonderful and utterly unlike the fog we get here. After the ceremony we took this stroll outside with friends, enjoyed bits of the amazing sculpture art and managed to snap a few photos. The night seemed to go by so fast – one super highlight was dancing to good old Tiffany – and the next thing I knew one of the brides was shoving a glass of their fancy rosé into my hand and telling me to slam it before the museum kicked us out. (Note to self: It’s fine to be a booze hero, but NEVER slam rosé. Maybe never slam champagne, period.) A big giant school bus took us all to an afterparty, and it was magical.

That was the way of it, so these stolen moments will have to do! We were just incredibly happy to be there and sharing the special evening with our friends and their dearest loved ones. Yay!

So! Here it is. A Winter Kate dress, with a sequined clutch and my vintage fox fur coat. Lots of rings and layered necklaces. The tomboy’s outfit is comprised of Zara slacks and grey-brown dress shoes, a striped Ralph Lauren shirt, sweater vest and blazer from H&M and a one-of-a-kind polka dot bowtie from Etsy. She’s drinking Maker’s. We’ll have to re-shoot these outfits to give you better details and such, but may these tide y’all over in the meantime!

Love,

FFAF

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!

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!