Here it is, folks, the first official FFAF post of the year!

Picking out the first outfit of the year was a challenge – I felt like it had to be special, but at the same time the tomboy and I wanted to get ready in a jiffy for an afternoon playing around in San Francisco and at the beach (after a deliciously long morning in bed). Luckily, we spoiled Californians had lovely weather. All of these photos were taken at the Pacifica Pier, a quarter-mile long pier jutting out into the Pacific Ocean from the tiny coastal town of Pacifica, which is about a five-minute drive from our house.

Blue skies, just a hint of chill in the air, and a bit of haze around the edges to soften things up a bit. (I’m sure the hungover masses appreciated that last merciful touch.) If it’d been a touch cooler, I would have layered my lime green blouse under the sweater – how cute the pointed collar would have been against the black! Alas, t-shirt weather.

Even though in my world this is a pretty un-fussy, low-key outfit, I sure got some looks from the anglers on the pier in Pacifica! Good thing these tights are nearly as thick as pants, what with all the wind blowing around. I could never wear this skirt without super thick leggings underneath – in addition to being terribly sweet it’s also obscenely short.

Sometimes I see other style bloggers bare-legged in skirts this short (sometimes shorter still) and my mind is thoroughly blown. What about wind? What about sitting down? What if – God forbid – you drop your bloody lens cap? Are they outfits for blog purposes only and not IRL? If not, what’s their secret and must it exclude modesty? I NEED TO KNOW.

Daytime snuggles on the beach are kind of the best snuggles, no? I don’t ever do my hair this way, but I kind of love it, especially after seeing the pics. This is second day hair, teased a whole bunch at the crown with the top third or so pulled back and pinned into place, with a spritz or two of trusty Elnett to keep it all secure. I just used some shine serum on my brushed curls and heavy bangs (they’re growing out so quickly), and that’s it! Of course the sea breeze whipped things up, but it appears to be for the better.

I’m gonna talk about my nails, and then let y’all look at the rest of the pictures sans interruption. I saw an online tutorial for ombre nails, yes, just like the clothes or hair, but for nails. It was metallic and blue, but I wanted to do a girly pinkish gold version for NYE, so I picked out four colors (yes, four) and went to work. I layered a muted brown (Zoya Dea) over a pinkish nude (Who Comes Up with These Names? from OPI) over a creamy pink (Zoya Lo), and then blended it all together with a glittery layer of Butter London’s Tart with a Heart. Success!

Details

Skirt: Zara
Sweater: Target
Leggings: Silence + Noise
Studded Suede Ankle Boots: Trouvé
Patent Leather Clutch: Alice + Olivia for Payless

Silver Cuff Bracelet & Ring: BCBG
Silver Thorned Bangle: Made Her Think
Rhodium “bamboo” hoop earrings: Lauren Adams
Watch: Citizen

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

We’re back with more travel posts, but still in London. Standing on the Millennium Bridge, happy as clams, with the charming and wonderful Cari Campbell behind the camera. We were so lucky to have a generous friend to show us all around and keep us company during our trip! It really is the best possible way to visit a new destination.

All sorts of post-London Pride shenanigans. We parted ways with the parade and hopped on the tube to the London Bridge station, where we planned to meet Cari at the nearby Borough Market. We hadn’t yet been bewitched by the streets of Edinburgh’s Old Town, so walking around little curved cobblestone beauties like Stoney was quite a treat! After stopping at a fancy chocolatier and to sample the most delicious Manchego outside of Spain, we meandered along the Queen’s Walk past Southwark Cathedral, The Golden Hinde and the Tate, toward our high-rise dinner on the Thames.

We ran into these lovely little white birch trees – just like in the Maximilian Hecker song, Birch! Speaking of swans, London has a great deal of them. SO MANY SWANS. (Cue the tomboy trilling “Swans are cunts!” I’m surprised there isn’t a t-shirt by now.) At top left is the Tate Modern, of course, and then on the lower right you’ve got the bridge guiding the eye toward St. Paul’s Cathedral.

Schrödinger’s Cat Lives? – the beach at Gabriel Wharf.

Have I discussed my outfit? The only full-length shot is way down at the end of this post, but it’s a kicky little Free People dress that I love, with its little Missoni-esque chevron pattern. I wore it with an antique necklace from India, a whole mess of bracelets, my Ray-Ban aviators and comfy, sky-high Seychelles wooden platforms. M paired some nice denim with her trusty grey Aldo lace-ups, an Izod shirt and her Anchors Away! bow tie from Me & Matilda. Her belt is from H&M and I got her this smart leather messenger bag from Target a few years ago.

After that wonderfully scenic walk in the sunshine and warm weather, we headed up to the 8th floor of OXO Tower. We were early and fortunate enough to be shown to a table in the lovely, airy bar while we waited for our dinner table to open up. After a sensational (no, truly, SENSATIONAL) round of cocktails and appetizers, we were led outside to the terraces where our corner table was set up overlooking the river.

It was gorgeous! The sun’s beams fell like glory through the sparse and silvery clouds, we ordered a bottle of Harvey Nic’s champagne, because how on earth could we not? and watched the people below on the tiny beach. The food was divine, the conversation lively – speaking fondly of San Francisco and excitedly about London – and the only thing that would have been more perfect is if Cari’s love had been there with us, too. (She was in New York for a wedding!) That concoction on the lower right is a clever twist on the classic English trifle – strawberry shortcake, Pimm’s gelatin with cucumber and mint, and vanilla ice cream.

We left OXO with the most pleasant buzz, the sun drifting down like molasses (have we talked about the fact that the last light of day doesn’t truly vanish until 10pm or 11pm at night – or how we miss it so?!), and walked over the Millennium Bridge into the mostly deserted area of Holburn, where we caught a taxi to get to a lesbian party I still don’t know the name of.

I can’t even recollect the neighborhood we were in or the street the club was on, but there was a big red glittery heart with CARWASH written on it in a 1950s script hanging outside, so there you go. There we met up with some of Cari’s friends, ran into the ones we’d made the night before at Candy Bar in SOHO, and spent the night hopping between the two dance floors, one with pop music and one with house music. I taught the bartenders how to make me a Tom Collins, bless their precious hearts.

Look at these two! So handsome, those smiles full of trouble. The sun was already starting to light up the sky again when we finally stumbled home to our hotel in Kensington. It was a really, tremendously brilliant day.

More to come, I promise! Next up shall be Sunday UpMarket, our turn on the London Eye and Buckingham Palace!

XOXO,

FFAF

PS. Nicolette, my darling, I’m not doing this to hurt you, I swear! ?

Guess who needs a haircut? OK, we both do, but Conor, Conor, Bird. My goodness. What an adorable young ruffian.

My hairstylist has zero availability for the rest of the month, so my hotshot plans to get a quick trim before the wedding in Boston at the end of the month are bullocks. Thank God I was able to squeeze in a facial next week. I’m doing that femme thing where I’m like bangs redux vs. growing out the bangs and it’s fucking HOMO PANIC ROOM CENTRAL. I mean, this is the dress I’m going to wear and wouldn’t it cause tectonic digressions in your psyche, too?

And yes, I’m hunting down the perfect moto and must collect a million fabulous rings to wear it with. Can’t I just get this in pink and white and oh, all of these while I’m at it? Can’t I?!

Y’all? It was my birthday yesterday. Tuesday birthdays are kind of ho-hum, I suppose, and I had to go to work on my birthday for the first time in I-can’t-remember-how-long. Sneaky M took the day off without my knowing and spent all day baking assorted cupcakes – rainbow chip, bunny-shaped cupcakes in pink, baby cupcakes with magical sprinkles – prepping for a delicious grilled filet mignon dinner, decking out every corner of the house with beautiful pale pink roses and bright pink tulips, and putting up birthday decorations.

The moment I walked through the door, she kissed me and plunked a MASSIVE strawberry daiquiri into my hands. I was so surprised to see how lovely everything looked, and I was content as a kitten to have a nice, low-key night. My family called and sang Happy Birthday in an impressive full three-part harmony, too, and my friends lavished well wishes on me all day long. I’m a lucky girl!

I’ve read both of Chris Cleave’s novels, Incendiary and Little Bee (The Other Hand) and we’re meeting with our book club on Friday night to discuss the latter. But later this weekend, in the spirit of celebrating my 31st birthday all month long, M is taking me shopping for Parisian lingerie, we’ll have dinner at Garçon! or maybe Restaurant Ducroix or Chez Papa and then take in a bit of theater at the American Conservatory Theater to see No Exit. Perhaps a spot of dancing will be had.

I’ll have riding lessons and we’ll check out some lighting equipment for my studio, which she’s promised to procure and build as soon as I commit to something (which is going to be so difficult – I’ve done hours of research and am not a lick closer to deciding).

Have I mentioned that I absolutely adore my thirties?

Dress, Cardigan: Target
Belt, D&B Bag, Sunglasses: Vintage
Pumps: BCBG
Necklaces, top to bottom:
Banana Republic, Mexico, Betsey Johnson
Wooden bangle: Pier One

The title of this post comes from one of my favorite miniseries, Angels In America, which I hope I’ll be able to see onstage someday. The exchange goes like this:

This is the outfit I wore on our date night on Friday. I love it. The tomboy cheered when I came downstairs. I pointed to my belt and said, “Guess who’s coming out with us tonight?” (I can’t remember the last time Sheeba circled my waist.) It’s just fun, the whole outfit, and shamelessly pretty. What makes it, I think, is the blazer from Asos. It was a steal, around 39 GBP, and it’s the perfect companion to these shoes. It’s also linen, so it was a foolish choice for a March night still being throttled by winter, but it’s going to be my BFF this Spring/Summer, I can tell.

Last night I discovered that, as far as I can tell, I cannot get Fifi Chachnil in the states. This was grave news as I’ve been desperate to get my hands on some since my decant ran out late last year. On the bright side, I’ll be able to visit their shop in London when we’re there this June! In the meantime, I ordered another 5ML to get me through, as well as a Frederic Malle decant sampler. I’m so excited. It’s been awhile since I’ve reviewed scents here, or even since I’ve gotten new ones, so I’m hoping it’ll kickstart that old habit!

Speaking of scents, I accidentally mashed these flowers into my hair when taking these, and my hair smelled weird the rest of the day. Since you readers are so swell at telling me which flowers are which, can anybody tell me what these are? I picked up four bouquets and made three lush, cheerful arrangements out of them. My nail polish is Caitlin from Zoya’s Spring Collection, Intimate.

Spring, won’t you hurry? Quit letting this dreadful, lingering winter bully you!

What Spring trends are you looking forward to most, and has Spring hit where you live yet?

Details on the outfit:
Dress, Target
Blazer, Asos
Pumps, Novela
Tights, Banana Republic
Bag, Freebird by The Sak
Belt, Vintage

Jewelry:
Bracelet: Lori’s Shoes
Necklace: Banana Republic
Rings: H&M

What’s new? I’ve realized that I must keep a list of the books I’m reading for my 2011 resolution of one book per week on average!

Currently reading: Super Sad True Love Story, The Help, Wild Girls, Vanity Fair (kind of), Revolutionary Road.

Read: Unbearable Lightness, Neverwhere, The End of Youth. I’m on track to finish SSTLS this week, and I am totally counting the first 21 chapters of The Help for the 4th week of the year. Phew!

In case you’re wondering about these snowy images and what on earth is on my feet in them: SNOW SHOES! I borrowed a pair from the gals who went snowshoeing while we skied/snowboarded during the day, and stomped around the meadow out back behind the black bear cabin, during our improv sledding off the back porch. I’m also wearing my Silence + Noise skinnies, a gorgeous corset sweater from Asos, and my Dolce Vita for Target boots and vintage fur coat. The necklace is very art deco and from Banana Republic.

What else, what else? We got tickets to see Bright Eyes. We’re in a HOMO PANIC about our Superbowl/Housewarming party on Sunday, which we agreed on Thanksgiving to throw for my family. We’re expecting anywhere from 20-24 people. It’s insane. What got into me/us? We discovered Portlandia – a really funny, super random sketch comedy thing about crunch Portland types featuring the talented, gorgeous Carrie Brownstein of Sleater-Kinney fame and many, many others. TSA appears to be poised to roll out new, more benign software for their invasive, vulgar full-body scanners, C A I R O, the White Stripes officially announced time of death.

Ski beanie! Ski pants by Volcom! Foxtail! Style Snaps!

WHAT A WEEK.

Jesus Christ. It’s like this wussy little 4-day work week was so slighted by how completely and totally amazing our magical holiday weekend was that it decided to be the biggest shit in the history of the universe. So.

When I think of the last weekend, a warm, cozy glow washes over me and I nearly wince against the memory of the sun hitting so much white, can almost hear and feel the slushy crunch of snow under my boots, can feel M’s big, warm, fingerless-gloved paws against my torso as she catches me when I slip on an unsteady swath of ice (and her smile when it happens), the delicious bite of big mountain wind in my hair as I soar float down a tree-lined, twisting run, trying to catch up with her. The work week is all but washed away, and my mind sets on plotting how long before we can go back (21 days exactly).

Here is a wood we came across. Tahoe City has some nifty little walking bridge, and that’s where we were trying to get but stumbled instead into a park-like area with a Gatekeeper’s Museum and a little red shack to show you where the Original Fire House once stood, with ominous black bear painted cut-outs from particle board placed here and there.

It was beautiful. Even though footsteps had worn a clear path out to the clearing of soft, untouched snow that had fallen over the rocks or sand or both of the Lake Tahoe shores, only a few imprints were visible past a certain point. First I ran and then trotted and then walked briskly out toward the water, turning back often to check on M, who kept snapping photos and gingerly stepped through the snow, laughing.

I found a snowman missing its face, and tried to give some of it back. A long, skinny finger of land or dock stretched way out into the freezing cold water, and I wanted to walk to the end of it, but M hollered at me not to. Too dangerous. I stopped and flopped down into the snow, sunk down half a foot, and began to flail around the way I imagine people do when making snow angels (which I have never done), to make a snow angel.

M caught up with me and doubled over like she was having a fit and then told me my snow angel was the worst one she’s ever seen, so I threw some snow at her and made a beeline for the trees.

Anyway, you can’t imagine how beautiful it was there, unspoiled and hushed and lovely. These pictures of the scenery hardly do it justice. If we weren’t expected back at the cabin, we probably would have found somewhere to nap like real bears.

When I woke up today and peered through my blurry Valentino glasses to search for my contact lens case, panic set in. I knew I only had one lens left, and if anything happened to my last pair, scarcely hanging on by a thread, I was screwed. I hate wearing glasses, I hate the loss of peripheral vision, I hate how wobbly and unsteady I feel in them. I ran my hands over the bathroom counter, over sticks of eyeliner and tubes of lipstick and sundry palettes, and gasped as they met the little cage that is supposed to sit immersed in some sort of fizzing disinfectant solution overnight, every night. It hit me.

WHILE TAKING MY CONTACTS OUT LAST NIGHT, I GOT DISTRACTED BY LASH SERUM AND GIDDILY APPLIED THE LASH SERUM AND ABANDONED THE PROCESS ENTIRELY.

My eyelashes might be longer and thicker and darker, but I was stuck in my glasses half the day today because by morning the contacts had shriveled and dried into a cloudy, brittle mess. I had to make an emergency eye exam appointment (as it turned out my old prescription expired last September) and sweet talk them into giving me a trial contact lens (to go with the orphan lens) on the spot, and praise Dolly they did.

So the rest of the day went. The free lunch at work was so-so, but a coworker gave me some Tcho chocolates. I ended up working very late, but scored $300 of Banana Republic goodies for less than $50 at their last chance sale. The sitter was late picking up the petite, but we had delicious Italian delivered and I carried my stinky fathead puppy around for awhile, like a baby. There might be two suns in 2012, but Mexican CNN has naked chicks, so it’s all evened itself out, hasn’t it?

Corduroys: Levi’s
Sweater: Target
Boots: Vintage
Foxtail: Dollywood
Bag: Freebird by The Sak
Cocktail Ring: Banana Republic

How has everyone been doing with their resolutions so far? I’m not a big believer in the New Year being some blessed time to dramatically change your life, no more so than on a rainy day in April or a summer’s day in June. But with the end of a year I suppose one can step back, get a bit of perspective, and have a clearer idea of what the coming year or years should look like.

So far, I’ve finished one book (Portia de Rossi’s Unbearable Lightness) and am halfway through another (Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere). I’ve checked out the horses for adoption on Petfinder, perused the ads for horses for sale on Craigslist, and looked at leasing options, all thanks to a friend who happens to be something of an ex-horsewoman and has me looking at gorgeous Selle Francais and Dutch Warmbloods I cannot afford (as they are so fancy and can run you $80,000). We’ve dipped into our bottles of Evan Williams Single Barrel and Maker’s 46 bourbon. Not a bad start for six days in.

Perhaps your resolutions involve your beauty routines! I’m always trying to simplify mine, but I thought it would be fun to show you what’s in my medicine cabinet and on my vanity! (Maybe at the end of the year I can compare to see if it’s changed very much, too.)

Face
01. Cleanser: Lush Bûche De Noël
02. Toner/lotion: Lush Eau Roma Water
03. Cream/moisturizer: Lush Skin Drink + Estee Lauder Advanced Night Repair
04. Facial mask: Lush Catastrophe Cosmetic
05. Exfoliator: Rotation between a few favorites: Dermalogica Microfoliant, Origins Modern Friction + Brighter By Nature (twice weekly)
06. Make-up remover: Origins Clean Energy Gentle Cleansing Oil

Body
07. Shower gels/soaps: Lush Flying Fox
08. Body lotions/creams: Aveeno, Cetaphil
09. Anticellulite/firming treatment: W H U T, am I supposed to be doing this?
10. Body exfoliator: Homemade Sugar Scrub
11. Hand cream: Origins Smoothing Souffle
12. Lip balm or lip treatment: Pure Vitamin E Lip Balm or Lush’s It Started With A Kiss Tinted Lip Balm
13. Perfume: Changes Daily!

Hair
14. Shampoo/conditioner: Lush Assortment, Kirkland Signature Moisture Shampoo + Conditioner (surprisingly vegan, paraben and gluten free), Aveda Clove Shampoo
15a. Mask or other treatments: Ken Paves Healthy Hair Boost Up Color Drops, Bumble & Bumble Creme de Coco Masque & homemade masks
15b. Styling Products: Frederic Fekkai Beachy Waves, Bumble & Bumble Surf Spray, some awesome stuff I got in El Mexico, Frederic Fekkai Glossing Cream, TRESemme Heat Tamer Protective Spray
15c. Styling Tools: BaByliss Pro Porcelain Ceramic Straightening Iron (1.5″), Conair You Curl Curling Wand, a blow dryer, a really old school spiral curling iron

Make-up
16. Foundation: Perricone Active Tinted Moisturizer in Tint 02
17. Powder: MAC Mineralize SPF 15 Foundation (Loose) in Light Medium , Palladio Herbal Dual Wet Dry Foundation in Cypress Beige
18a. Blush (Powder, Highlight & Bronzer): MAC Mineralize, Cargo, Besame (too many to name just a few shades), Stila
18b. Blush (Stain): Lush’s It Started With A Kiss Tinted Lip Balm, Sephora Lush Flush Lip & Cheek Stain, Tarte Ring It In Cheek Stain Set
19. Mascara: MAC Zoom Lash, L’Oreal Voluminous Million Lashes, Clinique High Impact Mascara
20. Lipstick/lipgloss: MAC, Besame, Clinique (too many to name just a few shades)
21. Eyeshadow: MAC, Cargo, Stila, Laura Mercier, Besame
22. Eyeliner: MAC Shadesticks, MAC Greasepaints, Laura Mercier, Besame Classic Masterliner Pencils

Thrifted tunic, Silence + Noise skinnies, Gap scarf, Dolce Vita for Target boots, Freebird by the Sak crossbody bag, earrings are a gift from the tomboy for Christmas (slippery like a snake!), Pier One wooden bangle bracelet, Banana Republic cocktail ring, awesome foam axe with rabbit fur trim from Paxton Gate – Curiosities for Kids.

(From Saturday, January 8th) Today was awful. I woke up slightly hungover from my femme date at the Original Plumbing Fashion Issue party last night, we’re out of everything one would use to make a deliciously greasy breakfast, and then we sat down with coffee and saw the news. My head throbbed with grief and shock and the kind of despondence that senseless, wasted death comes with without fail. It was impossible to divorce politics and the impact that something like this will have on our country from the fact that real people are still sitting in real rooms with their broken hearts, obliterated from the loss of their loved ones even as I type this.

I looked at my very grounded and mature daughter, watched her watching the news with us, peering over my shoulder to look at the Sarah Palin map of the United States that I’d been screaming at just a few minutes ago, thinking of the social atrocities she’s seen in her short life (9/11 in preschool, sitting on shoulders at useless anti-war protests in kindergarten, wars that carried her through grade school and junior high, the ups and downs and rallies and phone banking and fighting for marriage equality, the daily routine horrors of misogyny), her bright future humming with the beginnings of certainty despite all of it, and I suppose out of self-preservation a calm, quiet numbness washed over me. I went about the rest of the day, running errands, eating dinner with my family, hosting my book club for the night.

I can’t think about the ambitious little nine-year-old girl who died today because I can’t, I just can’t, as a mother. I called my mother today, and she was happier than usual to hear from me; my little brother’s been in boot camp for the Marines for a week now, the news can’t have helped any. We didn’t talk about Congresswoman Giffords, the little girl, or the five others who died because we can’t, just can’t, as mother and daughter. We talked instead about his call home this week, the menu for our Super Bowl party in February, an upcoming ski trip.

In seventeen years, when my petite is thirty years old and calls me out of the blue on an overcast Saturday afternoon, I hope this country is a better place to live than it is right now. It has to be.

Last night we went dancing at a party where they played lots and lots and lots of songs by Depeche Mode (and The Cure, which pleased me greatly). I wore a green dress with black polka dots. I don’t know that I’ve ever owned a great deal of green clothing, but suddenly it seems polka dotted numbers in green are a thing I do now. The mysterious Tommy has given me a ton of fantastic tips for my new and still very much a work-in-progress FFAF studio, but for now these and my in blessed natural night posts will have to do.

This outfit was thrown on in a great hurry on Thursday last week. I was going for easy. Here’s a blouse that doesn’t need pressing! I thought. These black velvet trousers will do just fine and I pulled them off the hanger. Try to at least look like you’ve put in effort, I scolded myself, and then threw on the vest. I am very lucky that high topknots are in right now, because like hell I had time for that malarkey. I hopped down the stairs putting in my earrings and shoved a fistful of bobby pins into my pocket to catch the strays.

Off I went to work, but not before M drowsily informed me that I looked like a fancy Puerto Rican girl.

Black velvet trousers: Erin Fetherston for Target
Blouse: Vintage
Vest: Hengst
Earrings: Claire’s
Bracelet: Modcloth (I think, hard to remember)
Shoes: Yves Saint Laurent

E. C. Star dress. Franco Sarto wingtip pumps. Richard Chai for Target coat. Thrifted mini crossbody. Tegan & Sara scarf. I repeat, Tegan & Sara scarf. Red Velvet lipstick from Besame Cosmetics.

Today was shite. It didn’t start out that way; I crawled out of bed, wiggled into my favorite Peggy Olson dress and surprisingly sturdy, comfortable tights by Nina. M zipped me up and chattered away in bed whilst checking the stock market from her new phone, and I set off for work. A sweet colleague fetched coffees for us both when I arrived. At lunchtime, I met a friend in a toasty pub near our offices and we gossiped over grilled cheese and French dip sandwiches, and I ducked into Godiva afterward to carry out Day Two of Mission Find Outstanding Toffee. (Day One consisted of a trip to Fog City News, a lovely place where I picked up Richard H. Donnelly chocolates and the newest Gentlewoman. The latter is nearly perfect, has Inez van Lamsweerde and Chloé on the cover, the former not so much.)

It was all downhill from there. Godiva’s toffee was a joke. You’d do better to pick up a pink canister of Almond Roca! I ran into an infuriating issue at work. The old landlord still hasn’t sent us our deposit. (She still has a week or so to get it to us by CA law, but we can tell we’re probably going to have to fight her for it.)

After work, when I drove all the way out to the thrift store I’d left my phone at on Saturday, the workers were still there but the door was locked. They’d been closed for 15 minutes. My attempts to knock at the door and mime my desire to fetch my phone and only my phone went ignored, waved away; I am bad at charades, it seems they thought me either illiterate or simply stubborn (which I am, that is not the point): “WE’RE CLOSED,” the closest worker mouthed.

I remembered my fancy new phone. I googled the thrift shop. I jabbed my finger at the link to the phone number. It rang. I narrowed my eyes at the worker, standing just twelve feet away from me still at the register, focused intently on a stack of paper, watched her twitch and finally, after three rings, pick up the phone. P H E W. I helpfully volunteered a description of my phone, frantically making eye contact and forcing smiles, and suggested that it would only take her a few seconds to slide it through the mail slot or something so that I could get it back. “Yes, ma’am, we have your phone right here. It’s here. You need to come back when we’re open.”

My toffee was bad. My job vexed me. I am owed money. My data is held hostage at a thrift shop with rude workers. Bullocks.

Then, after a long and strangely soothing trip to the grocery store (maybe it had to do with huffing a fresh fistful of basil), I went home. It was warm inside. My girls greeted me; M helped me pull all the bags in from the car. Our handsome new striped armchairs had arrived, along with a great big mystery box. We were having piping hot lasagna with a loaf of garlic bread for dinner. Comfort food. I opened the mystery box. A sweet note from my friend Ali, who has recently launched a gourmet cookie company with her mom, and – heaven help us – piles and piles of her delicious creations. (More on that – and our first ever giveaway! – on Black Friday, so be sure to check back and enter to win.)

M made me giggle during this FFAF shoot out in the biting cold of our yard, she shined a flashlight on me and I fought to keep a candle lit in the wind. (“It’s supposed to be creepy,” I explained.) The moon was huge and shone eerily through the branches, which swooned and tottered around it like baby ghosts. (“It was orange and SUPER creepy before,” M explained.)

And just like that my day was right side up again. Hurrah!

Enjoy these spectacularly politically incorrect Thanksgiving pin-ups and have a dreamy, delicious holiday, everyone! We’re very much looking forward to my 90-year-old grandma’s brandy-soaked San Francisco Thanksgiving, with collard greens and pumpkin cheesecake, pop culture pumpkin pies and puppies. My mother’s given us just two assignments: an appetizer and a dazzling, festive cocktail for all to imbibe. I’m plotting something herbaceous, probably Italian, with spiced pear and sparkles. We’ll see how it goes!