fitforafemme.com

CONFESSION: Today marked a very important day in our new San Francisco life. (We just realized that we recently breezed past our six-month anniversary living here! Good heavens, that went by ultra-fast.) After a cursory search on yelp.com, we selected a barber shop for M. It’s been that long since she’s had a haircut! She adored her lady in Oakland’s Rockridge ‘hood, and was skeptical about whether or not she could be replaced without paying dues in the way of a bad cut, obnoxious stylists or an overpriced hipster salon. She’d been growing it out per my request, but it wasn’t cut in a way that was meant to be grown out, per se, so she’s starting from scratch. What sold us on this particular barber were the following reviews:

• No gabbing! No chit-chat! No small talk! If you want a hug and some hippie tea, one reviewer hissed, go somewhere else. It’s straight to business here, and that is rad.
• Plenty of gay porn to peruse while you’re waiting! Well, Christ. Do I even need to keep listing reasons?
• Not only have they been in the Castro for 20+ years, they have a 4+ star rating. Word.

So at 1PM today, M got a crazy fast, efficient, and very serious and handsome haircut in a barbershop where the classic barber pole’s stripes are made of bandannas and rainbow flags adorn the walls, and yes, I admired some gay porn while she was in the chair. It was superior to any of ours and I suppose I should have snagged one. Drats! (I’m kidding. Stealing is bad.) You’re going to have to wait to see her new ‘do, but to amuse you in the interim, here was her inspiration (ignore Jake G.’s dopey mug, please):

PS. If any tomboys have tips on how to train a part into hair, please let us know in the comments! M is also on the hunt for a new product or two for this type of style – she doesn’t think her American Crew pomade is going to cut it anymore, and I’m trying to get her to try my Jonathan Dirt Texturizing Paste, but the more options, the better. Thanks, yo.

CONFESSION: I suspect that this could be the very first time I’ve added actual COLOR to this dress. How foolish! Now I can’t wait to pair it with a yellow belt or a bright red coat. I had a stroke of genius and took this cameo ring – which is much too big for my skinny little fingers and which belongs to M (it’s too big for her, too – little know fact: our fingers are the same size, give or take half a size…that sounds pervy, I guess, for a lesbian blog, but I meant it in terms of pretty little baubles) – and just looped the scarf ends through twice to secure it snugly. Now when I’m thrifting or antique shopping and find a ring I’ve fallen in love with but am too tiny for, I’ll buy it anyway, because I really love this look.

Two nice things from today:

1. After a work meeting and some errands, I popped into Noe Valley and treated myself to a nice Italian lunch. I woke up in a bit of a funk this morning, and it went away almost instantly over a giant plate of creamy fettucine alfredo, garlic bread, a single glass of champagne and a good book.
2. Success regarding workout clothing at Nordstrom Rack today: A cozy new Reebok track suit thingee in a nice, rich shade of charcoal that didn’t break my bank (nothing sparkly or vulgar scrawled across the ass! nothing so absurdly tight that panty lines would show even if I went without panties at all! nothing in a shitty, fug print!) and three baby t-shirts and a tank top for appx. $6 each! HAWT. I will admit, however, to buying dark grey eyeliner. For all my strength, a gleaming ribbon of weakness.

Before I say good night, thanks to all the folks who offered words of wisdom regarding workout clothes here or elsewhere! Y’all are rad. XO!

CONFESSION: My mama’s vintage scarf again. I love it anew. I know y’all have seen this same GD LBD 84,000 times before, but not this epic wool pea coat from DKNY, all sharp and boxy. I like it a lot paired with the shoes. We had to dress up for a tea dance with friends last Saturday and I just wanted to be warm and comfortable without that meaning jeans, etc. I hope y’all are making do on the Monday back after a long and lovely holiday weekend: I’m happy to report that I scored 5 tops and 2 skirts for…let’s see, appx. $15 at the thrift store. Best picks are a Kensie sweater in a perfect shade of asparagus green ($2.50), a NWT drape-y, vintage tank in cobalt blue lamé ($1.50) and a floral print corduroy Esprit miniskirt ($4). It will be tempting to wear them all at once!

CONFESSION: Today was a day for the bank. I attended a private tasting of Dalmore’s 12, 15, Gran Reserva and King Alexander III single malt scotch whiskys, plus a very special bonus tasting, at the methodically handsome Laszlo in the Mission. The dear Scottish man who led the tasting said that I reminded him of a lovely, elegant Lowlands single malt scotch whisky, when he wasn’t spitting onto the floor at any mention of the French. (You can eventually read more about all that here, at my “other” blog. I don’t want to spoil it.) They were kind enough to let me pop upstairs before and after the tasting to take some super awesome FFAF photos, hurrah. Just a moment ago the UPS guy arrived with a very important package, and I was so excited that M said I made a big old ruckus of “kitten noises,” whatever those are. It contained a new dress (not-so-LBD) and super badass new shoes. I can’t wait to show y’all! M is well enough to drink a bottle of cava with me (finally!) and lasagna is baking in the oven with some fluffy garlic bread in hot pursuit. DREAMY.

SCENT: Tom Ford’s Black Orchid. I must confess something. I broke up with Tom awhile ago, but after reading about his directorial debut starring Colin Firth (and Julianne Moore) in A Single Man, I’ve realized something very, very important: My love for Colin is greater than my hate for Tom. Does that make sense? Of course it does. (He’s Mark-bloody-Darcy, after all.) I digress. Black Orchid is a hot, heady, stunning mess. The jury is out on whether or not that’s a good or bad thing. The opening is almost like scorched black licorice drizzled over jasmine and sundry florals, like in Absinthe or Drambuie. It does kind of smolder, all bared teeth, glossed lips and super dangerous bedroom eyes. This smells like the kind of woman you should stay away from – you know better, of course – but you can’t help yourself. I’m going to have to come back to this, because it’s too complex!

Here are some notes, FYI: Black Truffle, Ylang, Bergamot, Black Currant. Then the black orchid, dark florals, rich fruit, Lotus Wood. At last, there’s Patchouli, Incense, Vetiver and Vanilla Tears, Balsam and Sandalwood.

Watch this and tell me you don’t find it completely gorgeous. Seriously.

And since it was one of the most beautiful stills:

When: Thurs., Jan. 16th, 2008.

Femme What: Pink coat by Tulle, black dress by H&M, striped scarf of unknown origin, dark pink suede pumps with flower by Franco Sarto.

Femme Scent: I needed something light and bright for this bizarre, mid-January summer day! I decided on Diptyque’s Oyedo. It goes on a bit sharp and sweet, but dries down to a very amicable and polite scent, very serene. The staying power isn’t good at all! Its notes are described as “citrus fruits and thyme on a ground of wood scents,” and the scent itself as “an orchard of limes and tangerines on the shore of the Great South Sea.” I think the thyme rounds it off as it dries down, but I wish this stayed on better so that I could give it a fairer chance.

Femme Confession: I just finished my cheesecake breakfast – the crust to filling ratio was appx. 2:1 – it was excellent! We still have half a baby cheesecake left from a friend’s birthday dinner last night, at Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse. Aside from the fact that the name of the place grates on my soul to a degree I cannot adequately express without wanting to throw something, or that my petite filet was swimming in garlic butter when it arrived, it was pretty delicious and pleasant overall! I particularly enjoyed my pear twist martini – Belvedere Lemonessence “twisted” with Absolut Pear Vodka and fresh lemon sour – despite the fact that it initially gave off a very subtle black licorice or anise-like flavor. Oh, and we took these silly photos in the handsome lobby of our building! Ha. God, I love furniture by Mitchell Gold + Bob Williams.

Tomboy What: Awesome Fox motorcycle leather jacket, white Alfani dress shirt, revolver tie by Cyberoptix Tie Lab (x-mas gift!), argyle belt by, uh, a place that sells belts, Kenneth Cole slacks, Kenneth Cole black boots.

Tomboy Scent: Well? I am clearly wearing a moto-jacket with slacks, so only Varvatos Vintage will work here.

Tomboy Confession: I didn’t think there could be such a thing as too much butter, when in fact there very much is such a thing. And Ruth’s definitely crosses that line! I was, however, very pleased with the broiled ginormous tomatoes, and my handsome Maker’s Mark cocktail. Next time ask for butter on the side!

When: TGIFriday, Jan. 9th, 2008.

Femme What: Sheer floral t-shirt by Shameless, black jumper by French Toast, vintage silk polka dot scarf, rand-o tights and necklace-cum-belt from unmemorable origin. Black leather and wool sweater by BCBG Max Azria and boots by Lamica.

Femme Scent: Caron’s Coup de Fouet – Eau De Cologne Poivrée. It’s described as being a unisex fragrance, a “refreshing fragrance on a base of rose and carnation, accentuated with a hint of pepper.”

The intensity is overwhelming at first application. It’s spicy, almost tangy and thick with cloves, even swerving for a few moments dangerously close to potpourri. All this underneath a cloud of something medicinal. It does dry down into something much softer, and the floral gradually undulates, but all so stubbornly. The staying power is good. M said that it smells like a “scent blocker” – like it’s hiding something else, or used to cover up something. The translation is “crack the whip,” which I rather like, but this merely makes me feel perplexed, but in a sort of rabid, obsessive way.

Maybe they meant it that way. Caron, cracking the whip at all the femmes since 1957! Word.

Femme Confession: I’m seriously having some critical and urgent hair dysmorphia, y’all. M is sick of me whining about it. She’s given up trying to reassure me that my ends look just fine and simply rolls her eyes at me and tells me that I have mental problems and might want to seek help. My friends coo reassurances. I, however, continue to jump into pools of harsh light like a spastic frog or insect, grabbing a lock of hair and staring unblinking and with disgust at my split ends. It’s fucking untenable. I recently gave a lovely FFAF reader a list of salons in our area without so much as skipping a heartbeat and my BFF is absolutely thrilled with her new hair, which I helped to advise yesterday. I, however, remain homeless, salon-wise.

YOU CAN’T HELP SOMEONE WHO WON’T HELP THEMSELVES. CRY.

Tomboy What: Brixton ‘Hooligan’ plaid hat (which everyone loves and tells me they love it, including total strangers in the elevator), awesome almost-worn-in RVCA jeans, brownish-green hoodie from Express for Men, blue T-shirt from the GAP and brown boots by Aldo.

Tomboy Scent: John Varvatos Vintage cologne. Do you want to smell fancy and ruggedly handsome, like a polo player or a fighter jet pilot? This is the scent for you! Not too clean, not too dirty, definitely handsome, but a quiet handsome, not the chatty, attention-whorey handsome! Top notes and description as follows: “Brisk Moroccan coastal plants spiked with piquant fruits, cinnamon tree leaves, pepper, lush florals, smooth woods, and Turkish tobacco make this scent truly unforgettable.”

Tomboy Confession: I sneaked out for a fancy hot dog for lunch today, even though it takes me forever to get there and back, because they are THAT good! It pisses me off that they are so far, and that they only accept cash and that it’s in the middle of a stupid mall, BUT I STILL GO THERE! Today, I find that prices have gone up some 25% for a hot dog, but you know what? I will probably be going back sooner or later. Sucker!

When: Sunday, June 29th, 2008.

What: Same as on horseback from Jenner-by-the-Sea, Part II, but topped with a b/w striped scarf from Collection 18 and a striped sheer v-neck sweater from Tristan.

Confessions: I loved that fucking Tristan store in Manhattan so much. So did M. Anyway, I’ve got that sweater in white, as well, as a few more things. M & I have matching fancy shield crest things, too. (Gay. So gay.) We went on a major, major hike after our horseback ride. We found the creek (“crick”), fell down a steep ravine and hiked the creek back for about a half-mile or so. It was awesome.