Hey, y’all! I wanted to trot out my new bag and a fabulously floppy hat for these crisp, sunny days we’ve been having lately, so I threw on a reliably pretty vintage dress in a neutral print, some tights and a pair of peep-toed shoes that took the look to a fun, sassy level. Also, we found a massive dead tree branch on our little walkabout! YAH!

You might find it amusing to know that I first tried to sit on that smaller branch I’m leaning on up there. It broke after about 2 seconds and I fell right on my ass in a big pile of dead leaves, while M had herself a good bellyaching laugh in the safety of the manicured green lawn you can’t see. You can see where it disappears below, leaving only a jagged stub behind. I managed to recover…

I’m trying to think of what’s new since I last posted!

• lovely visits from friends at home – one involved baking shortbread and another very in-depth lessons in eyeliner!
• football madness – since I was raised on the 49ers, the NFC Championship Game was a BFD – sadly, we lost
• finished reading Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex for book club (not for the faint-hearted)
• began reading The Faster I Walk, The Smaller I Get, written by a Norwegian author and given to me by M
• attended my sweet cousin’s delightful baby shower sans tomboy, only to find the soiree dotted with them after all!
• dove into a new bottle of perfume, Crystal Noir from Versace – but more on that later
• received copies of Luca Turin’s perfume guides as well as After Claude, which is deliciously mean (so I hear) – can’t wait!

So, I said I was going to get back into the business of discussing perfumes soon and here we are. This newest bottle of Versace Crystal Noir was a Christmas gift from the tomboy, more or less. (She originally bought me a bottle of Bright Crystal, which she’d already done before and somehow forgot. I’d been admiring it from afar and so handily swapped Bright for Noir and called it a day!)

First things first, I love the absurdly dark, heavy, gaudy bottle. It looks fantastic on my perfume tray, lurking moodily among slender Kenzo Amour or the austere Chanel No. 5  and Serge Lutens Chene, towering over a suddenly wan-looking bottle of Flowerbomb (which is of course shaped like a crystal grenade). Its contents are another story entirely.

Perfumes: The A-Z Guide, says that Donatella Versace provided creative direction for this scent, and proceeds to dismiss it as a “trashy white floral” (an improvement, believe it or not, upon Bright Crystal’s two-word assessment: “hideously screechy” – ouch!). The notes are gardenia and tuberose, as well as amber. Out of the bottle, I suppose the florals do exit the vehicle with a somewhat jarring crotch shot, teeter a bit, and then – at least with my skin – hit their stride on the drydown, which becomes a wonderfully creamy, soft dusty musk. A hint sweet. Folks are split on this – either it’s bug spray or bombshell mystique, but to me it’s like snuggling up to the tomboy in a fancy dress, murmuring dreamily while half-filled glasses of champagne sit neglected on the bedside table, sunrise teasing the sky lighter by the second. A cozy, familiar sort of ravishing. Lovely especially in cold weather.

Do tell me if you’ve got new loves in the fragrance world, I want to hear all about them!

Dress: Vintage
Tights: Hue
Shoes & Belt: Elie Tahari
Bag: Cynthia Rowley
Hat: Kathy Jeanne
Earrings: Silver Crane Sterling
Thorned Cuff: Made Her Think

HI.

I’ve been in a Hunger Games trance for the past week or so, burning through the entire trilogy as if my life depended on it. Let me tell you how tricky it is to become so engrossed in something at the precise time of the year you’re supposed to be focused on holiday nonsense! Very tricky! I only just finished the final book, Mockingjay, earlier tonight, and I’m still in a stunned daze. The petite has only just gotten through half of the second book, and the tomboy has pledged to at least read the first one. Do you know what that means? My lips must be sealed in the comfort of my own home (for the time being, anyway) – I can’t talk about it all! It’s brutal! I have so many feelings!

We did have a really wonderful weekend, though, when my nose wasn’t deep in a book. On Friday night, M took me on a low-key secret date. She warned me beforehand – “it’s just a casual one, Jonesey, don’t go getting all fancy now!” and so I threw this outfit on. We had dinner with gorgeous vintage motorcycles floating over our heads, and antique toy train sets circling the perimeter of the entire place. They had tasty, old-fashioned sours, too!

On Saturday, we headed over the bridge and under the estuary to Alameda, where some dear friends were hosting a holiday soirée at their home. We’ve been meaning to get together for beer can chicken for months but you know how it is, and we finally got around to it!

Lord have mercy, did they ever feed us! Fresh veggies with homemade ranch, and some sort of mysterious and delicious cave-aged cheese for nibbles. Baked brie with caramelized brown sugar and soft, fresh chunk bits of baguette for scooping up the sweet, warm cheese, bacon-wrapped brussels sprouts, their incredible beer can chicken, roasted pork tenderloin, and freshly baked coconut macaroons for dessert. All the Kentucky bourbon in the world, which M sloshed into her eggnog and I with a splash of ginger ale.

It was amazing, their home is lovely and warm, and we just talked and talked until it was time to take a stroll down Christmas Tree Lane to see all the houses lit up in their holiday finest. We had the incredible good fortune to catch both the Dancing Christmas Tree Ladies and the festively lit motorcycle brigade, too! Afterward, we all had coffee or tea and a light, layered chocolate mousse before presents were opened and we parted ways. It was a fantastic evening!

Of course, we came and collapsed and stayed that way all Sunday long, watching holiday movies like The Family Stone and Love Actually, and It Happened on Fifth Avenue for good, old-timey measure, all snuggled in and nursing a small fire for hours.

Now here we are, five days ’til Christmas and just twelve until the New Year! The other day I said that parting ways with 2011 will be like saying goodbye to an old friend, though I know there are lots of you who can’t wait to kick the old bugger to the curb. 2012 is bound to one hell of an adventure for my girls and I, and I’m so excited to roll up my sleeves and get in there already.

411 on the duds:

Corduroy Skinny Jeans: Levi’s
Silk Geometric Print Blouse: Laila & Savannah
Foil “Tantra” Cardigan: Vena Cava
Studded Suede Ankle Boots: Trouvé
Patent Clutch: Alice + Olivia for Payless
Braided Necklace: Tilly’s
Earrings: Silver Crane Sterling
Bracelets: Made Her Think (cuff) and Juniper Tree (beaded)
Rings (L to R): Made Her Think, BCBG, vintage

Last Saturday felt lazy, even though we left our cloud (our nickname for the fluffy new king-sized Ralph Lauren blanket we bought recently) to run a handful of errands. I wasn’t feeling super well, but we needed to go out and forage for driftwood-y tree ornaments and find an HTML5 book for M, so off we went! I perked up a bit when I snagged the very last copy of this Lula magazine and after a few sips of a gingerbread latte.

Lula and The Gentlewoman are two fancy-pants magazines I really, really look forward to buying collecting, whenever new issues come out. In a way they feel like sister magazines; one girlish, whimsical and very clever, the other almost frighteningly smart, self-possessed and beautiful. Both are incredibly lovely. I’ve noticed a few similar magazines pop up in the market, but I don’t think there’s really a comparison. The thoughtfulness of them isn’t something that can be hastily replicated!

If you’re in the SF Bay Area and wonder where you can get your hot little hands on either, try Issues just off Piedmont Avenue in Oakland (they carry everything under the sun and staff are always genuinely friendly and helpful), or the incomparable Fog City News on Market in SF (they double as a candy shop that carries one of the most outstanding selections of artisan chocolates the world over as well as a grand array of old-fashioned soda pop).

Bonus tip: Tomboys might love the high-end magazine selection at F.S.C. Barber’s tiny boutique on Valencia, or the ones at Unionmade in the Castro! They make fantastic stocking stuffers, if you happen to be looking for those final little items.

My Eleven Objects collar is on its way to me, and so are my five frames to try on from Warby Parker! I’m so excited. M has a pair from them and a handful of my friends have their frames, too, so I’m giving some a test-drive in anticipation of my annual January optometry appointment. I got it into my head that I need a pair just like James Dean’s, so I narrowed it down to these bad boys and one will surely be the winner!

It’s a total departure from anything I’ve had in the past, and I hardly wear my glasses as it is, but perhaps with a cheeky new pair all that will change! It’s all part, I think, of my gradual migration into an occasional tomboy femme aesthetic. First, the Everlane t-shirts, now this…what next?!

Dress: Fire
Tights: Hue
Blazer: Asos
Calf-Hair Ankle Boots: Adrienne Vittadini

I just tossed on some of these Old Navy bracelets and my Betsey Johnson sugary skull earrings, and called it a day! That, a fishtail braid, bright pink lips and soft grey eyeshadow, for a mellow and relaxing day.

As good a way to start a new post as any, eh? Behold M and her Knob Creek flask. I have lost count of all our flasks. There are many. Some leather-bound, some traditional, some all aerodynamic, one bedazzled with skulls…I think the only addition ours needs is one vintage, slender and ladylike flask, for yours truly. I’d like it to be silver and embossed with an elegant design. Simple. 

Remember how I thought the Habitat for Humanity fiberglass incident would be the end of cargo pants for my beloved? Well, of course she ran out and got herself a new pair, and wore them tree-huntin’, naturally. She also wears them when she doesn’t feel like getting dressed. They’re like sweats or pajama pants, in her mind. Anytime she puts them on, it’s a silent act of defiance.

This saw was way more dangerous than it looks! Very sharp. Last night we met some friends of ours in Oakland at a place called Dogwood. It’s on the same block as the Fox Theater, just a lovely, dark little nook on a corner, and they specialize in cocktails and charcuterie. We loved the long, loose wooden community tables, and especially the big pheasants adorning the walls. Though the cocktail program could have used a bit of refinement, they were still pretty tasty, and their gin and bourbon selections extensive and pleasing. The grilled cheese I was fed was incredible. I daydreamed about it today! It was a fantastic night.

Here are the details:

Shirt, Calvin Klein
Puffer, Polo Ralph Lauren
Cargo Pants, Target
Boots, Mark Nason
Belt, H&M

Here are some lovey-dovey pic of the tomboy and I; she really wanted to take some by this plantbutchthingy plantbushthingy. Does anyone have any idea what it is? They’re not cattails and they’re not foxtails, I don’t think. They’re our favorite.

This morning I woke up (a bit fuzzy, I’ll admit) to the most wonderful early Christmas surprise – Eleven Objects, New York-based makers of exquisite, ultra-luxe detachable collars, picked me to win one of their special styles for Louis Exposure! It is easily the best thing I’ve ever won, I’m so honored and can’t wait to have it in my hot little hands!

Hope y’all are having delightful weekends, can you believe we’re already down to 12 days ’til Christmas? Bananas!

Love,

SBJ & M

Last year when we went to get our tree, the lot was still damp from rain but it was warm enough out for bare legs! It’s kind of astonishing that we ended up with almost exactly the same size tree this year, albeit through a series of humorous and unintended follies. We decided to drive out to Half Moon Bay, where certain farms hand you a big old saw and let you pick your own to cut down. It was a spectacularly clear and sunny day, but with enough wintry bite to remind you what season it is.

I got the idea into my head because growing up it was always great fun when my family drove out to Half Moon Bay to chop down and carry home our very own special Christmas tree. In my mind, I was so small and the number and size of the trees so very vast that I would run around and get lost with my siblings. The trees were a deep, bold green and it all smelled like heaven. There was hot cider and everyone was happy, rosy-cheeked and smiling. Delightful! The most wholesome Normal Norman Rockwell-like memory of my happy childhood, really, and as it were it’s a big fat S H A M.

What is that?! Do you see that?! That’s not Christmas tree material! That’s a bush thing butchered to merely resemble a vague Christmas tree shape. There were so many of these, and tricksy M kept trying to sell me on ‘em. Outrageous! They didn’t even smell Christmas-y, and I was taking one home over my dead, hacked-to-pieces-with-a-rusty-saw body. I don’t know if it’s been a bad few years for trees (yes, I hear myself, please shut up) or we arrived too late in the season, but something’s changed in the past 20+ years, clearly.

The actual Douglas and Noble Firs still standing were too sad for our purposes. (I mean, look at that poor guy up there, center left.) They’d make fine Charlie Brown Christmas trees, or even perfectly acceptable 4′-5′ trees for smaller homes. I’m not disparaging them.

We wandered acres and acres, holding out hope for “the one” so that we could make our own perfect lumberjack lesbian family holiday moment. We’d pass other families circling like despondent vultures, kids in tow, M expressing solidarity with the exasperated husbands declaring that “the next one we find, we’re cutting down!” and me rolling my eyes good-naturedly with the women, and then we’d all fight over who got to carry the saw.

It was the saddest thing ever. Eventually we all became delirious, at several points ganged up on one another in different configurations, but mostly there was a great deal of laughter (and a flask of bourbon, I ain’t gonna lie). I fed it to M while we hiked another mile to check out one last patch of land, and that’s where we decided to plop down on a hillside to ready ourselves to admit defeat.

THAT’S WHEN WE SAW THEM.

Across the street, at another farm, dozens of absolutely perfect, lush, full, enormous trees. Sure, someone had already chopped them down, but we’d been out looking for hours and hours and damn hours, and no longer gave a shit. God, they were perfect. After a quick and very absurd family discussion, we got the hell out of there and went across the street, and found our special tree. (I had a brief dalliance with a Grand Fir, but we settled on a Noble. I’m a Noble gal at heart, as was my dear Aunt Judith.) The end! 

OUTFIT STUFF! I call these my “femme cargo pants” even though they are not quite that at all. They’re from H&M and have neat panels on the inner leg, like riding pants, with zippers all over the place. Pockets, ankles. Little baby snaps on the bum pockets. The faux fur vest is H&M as well, and the ruffled silk blouse is Lauren by Ralph Lauren. The pony belt is M’s but I steal it a lot. Boots are Nine West, the studded envelope clutch is Matt & Nat.

I’m wearing my stormy vintage ring from Pretty Penny, along with a Mariele Ivy necklace and lots of bracelets from Old Navy, actually. The earrings were a gift from M, lovely antique gold hoops with spangly bits of abalone.

Don’t worry, M brought her lumberjack hotness and she’s up next, along with before/after pics of the actual tree.

Hope everyone is having a lovely December out there,

FFAF

It seems we’ve all gone headfirst into December, with brash winds and orphan sunshine. Poor M’s been locked in a brutal two-day offsite brainstorming session for work the past few days, and is so sleepy she can’t even drink bourbon. It’s shocking, I know. Anyway, here she is standing in front of some sort of houseboat in a state of disrepair, in Sausalito. There are all sorts of boat lifts and such on either side of her, and despite the abandoned cooler in the front left, there wasn’t a soul around!

Boat, boat, we’re on a boat! This is pulling into Tiburon, on the ferry, of course. I love how it looks like she’s manning the corner/door, like she’s keeping watch almost. Side note: Did you know that watchcaps haven’t got anything to do with watches? I didn’t. I had to be told. I thought perhaps watches got so cold in extreme weather that there are wee tiny knit hats to keep them safe from the elements. Adorable, but WRONG.

This is the amazing, $300 Newkirk Down Vest she scored for $99 not long ago, by Polo Ralph Lauren. It’s pretty amazing, especially considering we’d been scouring the interwebs for puffers for weeks and she kept vetoing most of them as not awesome enough (even those with wildly outrageous price tags). She thinks this one is perfect, and now she’s got two and is satisfied – I think.

I like these photos so much, M all smashed up against the window (you can see how cold it is) and peering out with that dreamy, childlike curiosity. We saw all sorts of wildlife in the water that day – harbor porpoises who’ve been hanging out in the bay this time of year for the past few years (biologists are researching why, it’s fascinating), enormous pelicans dive-bombing for food, and sea lions. While the porpoises were super cool, my favorite, hands-down, are the pelicans. They’re so kamikaze! And clumsy! And the splash they make and the angle at which they plummet into the water, it’s a sight to behold.

This is where the very unsuccessful, wee crab-catching occurred. Hooray!

Corduroys: Kenneth Cole
Shirt: Izod
Sweater: Zara
Puffer: Polo Ralph Lauren
Boots: Mark Nason
Gloves:  H&M
Glasses: Dior Homme

Look how happy we are! We ought to live on a boat, like Conor says. (I love this song, I’d sing it over and over at the top of my lungs to and from my riding lessons all summer. Such a good album.)

We should move to Sausalito
Living’s easy on a houseboat
Let the ocean rock us back and forth to sleep

In the morning with the sunrise
Look in the water see the blue sky
As if heaven has been laid there at our feet

Greetings from San Francisco Bay! While it is borderline insane / reckless / madwomanish to want to be out on the bay right now with all of this terrifying wind, I kind of want to be anyway. I mean, how exciting would it be!? All jostled and wild and free in the night! Not on a ferry, though, on something sexier and more, uh, seaworthy. I could be wrong, but ferries seem to be meant for quick, repeated jaunts back and forth short distances on mostly calm waters.

In that top top top photo, you can see the Golden Gate Bridge braced against the Pacific Ocean, on a very gloomy afternoon. Just above, behind me, you can see San Francisco. The hilly bit is Pacific Heights, I think. This is the commuter ferry, it hops from Pier 39 to Tiburon and Sausalito for a mere $21, round-trip. ($9 if you have a Clipper, such a steal. I also recommend a bag of hot baby donuts to keep you warm and happy, all smothered in cinnamon and sugar. So good.)

A very long time ago on a beautifully sunny, cool day, M & I took this very ferry to Tiburon, a teeny tiny Marin peninsula that sticks out into the bay. We wined and dined on freshly made beds on a huge, gorgeous wooden balcony overlooking the water with a most spectacular view of the city, while a DJ played Thievery Corporation-esque music in the background. On the ferry ride back, as the sun was setting and the big, heavy Fall moon rose like a sparkling jewel in the bosom of the sky over the Oakland Hills, we noticed a very sweet old couple nuzzling and holding hands on the ferry. It was so terribly romantic and tender, I thought, and M later confessed that she noticed them, too, and had secretly hoped that we’d live long enough to be like that one day together.

The obvious takeaway here is this: Ferry Dates, FTW!

The boats in Sausalito, where we went to this particular day, were kind of scattered at the far end of the island, and we stuck to the main drag for lunch and to wander around. There were so many tiny, fast little crabs hiding in these rocks I stood on. M & I tried real hard to catch one, but I chickened out and M just wasn’t quick enough!

So, outfit stuff:

Corduroys & Striped Sweater: Gap
Plaid Shirt: Full Tilt
Boots: Adrienne Vittadini
Coat: H&M
Fur Collar: Vintage
Leather Gloves: Cole Haan
Earrings: Banana Republic

And hey, like you need the reminder, but…