fitforafemme.com

When: Friday, Feb. 27th, 2009.

What: Ivory dress by M by Madonna for H&M, vintage fur coat. Bra and panty set by Elle Macpherson. (I am in love with her website. The photographs with all the goosebumps and dimples and realness of yes, very trim women, but still more real women than we are used to seeing in ads, especially in lingerie ads, delights me.) Watch, Guess. Earrings from Juniper Tree. Rings, vintage and Laundry by Shelli Segal.

Scent: The very elegant Tubéreuse Criminelle by Serge Lutens, with notes of tuberose, jasmine, orange blossom, hyacinth, nutmeg, clove, styrax, musk and vanilla, from the exclusive range. Let me say this first: When M & I were married at San Francisco City Hall, it was in a cloud of giddy-yet-somber love reverberating through the rotunda and gently raining down tuberose, from my bouquet. I can’t help but sink fondly into this fragrance, even it comes howling like the devil out of the decant. Within moments it stops shrieking like a newborn from the womb and just nestles in, and if angels existed the soft folding of their wings to kneel down and gaze into the eyes of some broken creature with love so abstractly vast it melted your brain to even contemplate it, well, the sound of them would smell like this.

People love or hate this. They are so put off by its vulgar beginnings that they abandon it, or some version of tuberose so watered down it scarcely resembles the real thing has blinded them to the beauty of Criminelle. Some people think it’s mysterious, they marvel at its depth, its can’t-put-my-finger-on-it-ness. Some think it packs sexual power.

I love Criminelle because it tells the truth. Perfect. In every way.

Confession: I promised assorted FFAF readers that I’d post a blog with this dress and the fur, albeit not necessarily together. With the recent days of still chilly air veiled with clear blue skies and the faint stirrings of Spring, I knew my days were numbered where the fur is concerned. (Not that we really ever have fur-worthy days out here, I know you East Coast kittens are rolling your eyes at me so hard they’re loud as eight balls cracking against corner pockets.) So I paired the two, experimented with some trickery in Picasa and Voila!

When: Tues., February 10th, 2009.

What: H&M dress and orange knit arm warmers. Black tights from Old Navy, satin blouse from Libertine for Target, satin bow headband from Claire’s (shut up). Black peacoat by Blanc Noir and boots by Lamica.

Scent: Serge Lutens Un Lys, oh. Since most flowers are obviously girls, let’s imagine a dear lily stumbling upon a fetching lilac, falling madly in love and living happily ever after. ON MY WRIST. Until a vicious, cruel and incurable case of LBD sets in (read = the dry down) and all that’s left is the sickly sweet memory of what once was. Still, the love here is so, so pure and stunning. Lily and Lilac share the kind of love that makes everyone around them want to be in love, too. After a few hours this turns into creamy vanilla and just the whisper of floral left…too sweet and flat. If this fragrance were a grainy old foreign film, it would be absolutely perfect.

Confession: AYL! I have decided that I must first clean my room before I even think about taking photos of my closet. Both are an absolute wreck, but I’m working on it! Also? Y’all, tomorrow is the anniversary of the day (night, really) M and I first met four years ago! DREAMY. Let’s just all take a minute and thank Dolly that she and I met one night so long ago, because neither of us believes in the Oxford comma, God or neglecting booze! Soulmates!

Happy anniversary, angelface! I love you so!

When: Tues., Nov. 18th, 2008.

What: Little soft jersey cotton dress by Monteau (um, the only legitimate place I could find them was on some rand-o Lucky editor), black knee socks with Charles David ‘Butane’ boots. Pendant from Claire’s. Feather headband from Target. Oversize white leather clutch with black / silver croc stripes, vintage.

Scent: Film Noir by Ava Luxe. I wore this last week, right after I had previously been wearing Serge Lutens Chene. It wasn’t fair, really, to either olfactory beauty. Film Noir is described as “a gorgeous leather fragrance with sueded notes that is sure to kindle your darkest desires,” with black leather, Morrocan rose, bergamot and tonka bean notes. Meryl Streep might wear Film Noir. It’s soft yet stern, warm and mysterious, it just kind of glides effortlessly over the skin, luring you around the next dark corner. But gaily. It’s not very long-lasting, but it certainly doesn’t wear off anywhere nearly as quick as CB I Hate Perfume’s Black March, for instance.

Confession: My internet friends enabled me to go shopping today. My wife enabled me to go shopping today. (“Can you pick up cutting boards at TJ Maxx? You know, the one that carries DIOR.” “Sure, babe! Just the cuttings boards [and Dior]?” “Oh, you know, hot stuff…since you’re there and all.”) Maybe the conversation didn’t go like that at all, but whatever. The most beautiful thing happened to me today in the form of a XL boys cardigan from Buffalo by David Bitton. You will see! It cost me SEVEN DOLLARS and it is truly amazing. I know it’s mean to say that and not post it, but it’s crucial that I sit my family down for homemade tacos, beans and rice. Like, now.