Guess what? Garage doors are a luxury afforded to few in SF’s most desirable neighborhoods. We are not among that few, but that certainly won’t stop us from using them to our advantage in other ways. See that green, mildew-y stuff to in the lower left hand corners? M calls it moss, and she likes the way it looks. I don’t trust it!

I didn’t really care that the studded blazer AND the bib necklace was a bit much; I just wanted to maximize my orange nail polish while it lasted (read: it’s Tuesday and I scrubbed that shit off HOURS ago). Also, why is my mussed next day hair always so much more come hither than when I actually try to come hither it the night before? Hm?! PLEASE TALK ME DOWN FROM THE LEDGE OF A $99 MADE FOR TV CURLING IRON / STRAIGHTENER / DRYER THING. Please, if ever I needed y’all, it’s now, before I’m a walking poster child for Regretsy, can’t you see?!

Tomboy. Sunday Chronicle. Floppy puppy. That hat she searched and searched for so tirelessly in Old San Juan’s wet, succulent heat (the shirt, too). Her nonchalance, that easy, honest grin, how her hands assume their rightful place around my bony little torso. The nuanced tones of her voice saying all the words she can’t / won’t / doesn’t know how to say. The sun on our parched winter skin, albeit briefly. You know, years ago she once wrote to me, “…except for when you make that trademark SBJ gasp noise, I don’t think you ever even blink off beat.” It hooked me. She hooked me, however slippery I was at the time.

That one up there was just too incredible to be mixed in with any of the others. And then, dips!

This song has the power to change your life. Listen to it, I beseech you:

The above just blew your mind, I know, so here’s a clockwise from top left explanation:

• M reading the menu at Sparky’s. I was so adamant about pancakes, but we ended up splitting a massive chicken parm.
• M pouting over agonizing eye wear choices at the chic and friendly Eye Dare office.
• M demonstrated her best DeNiro squint and a delicious graham cracker.
• Boots the kitten comes when we call her over. So does Scab. And Pimp Gandalf, but not Blanket.
• Pretty damn good chicken parm for a 24-hour diner. Plus, cute gay waiter boys and singing patrons.
• The creepy doll that greets you at Sparky’s.
• Some street art/porn to keep the Valencia sidewalk extension project construction workers* motivated.
• The mystery palm that showed up overnight in our little garden. Weird!

This is the day we walked over 3 miles! I really, really love our meandering walks through the Mission and surrounding ‘hoods like Bernal, Noe and Castro. We pop in and out of cute shops and boutiques, we giggle, we eat, we drink, we cross a few items off of our To Do list, we people watch, we peruse real estate, we mussy-sikk, we’re RIDICULOUS. It’s just completely spontaneous, unplanned bliss, and neither of us cares much that we said we’d be here or there or “should” be somewhere else. It’s what the best weekends are made of!

What are your best weekends made of in your neighborhood? (Otherwise, let’s face it, we’d all say something absurd like BORA BORA!)

*I am sure this is not the official name of the project.
**My ankles don’t even BELONG to me, they’re so shockingly white. No, seriously. Look at them. What the hell?!

Ready for some video? Okeedokee, kids:

Get more at NPR’s Exclusive First Listen, Under Great Northern Lights.

Beg for mercy:

Imagery, for funsies:

You’re welcome!

XO,

Skinny

Hello!

Happy Oscars!

Happy Spring Forward! (Almost forgot, didn’t you?)

How handsome does the tomboy look in her vintage bowtie and sweater vest?! GAH!

It’s been an exciting weekend. I had a fantastic dinner with my BFF on Friday night,  traipsed 3.2 miles with the tomboy through the Castro and Mission in yesterday’s gorgeous sunshine, went dancing to the ladies of the 80s at New Wave City and brunched at noon today with a dear friend in the lovely Noe Valley. And if you want to hear a dirty little secret, I’ll tell you one (well, two):

1. I let the tomboy pick out my dress. I can’t believe it’s supposed to be worn this way!
2. M & I redressed in last night’s outfits for a FFAF shoot because we didn’t have time to last night!
3. I was forced to wear tights because my bruises from self-defense fights last weekend are still quite prominent and nasty looking. In fact, just yesterday I dubbed the one just above my left knee “the eye of Sauron.” It’s very serious!

I had a lily in my hair last night, but the rest is basically the same. Anyway, we were hoping that you could help us. The tomboy needs a new pair of glasses, and she tried some on yesterday but just isn’t sure. She is also convinced that Tom Ford frames are going to be the answer to all her prayers (not that she prays). Take a look at the three different frames below and let us know which ones you like the best in the comments section!

HELLO, KITTENS!

How the hell are you? It’s been a week! A whole week!

Before anything else: Thank you for voting for Fit For A Femme, even if we didn’t win a Lezzy Award this year, we stood up there with the big dogs and it was totally awesomesauce, and I lovelovelove y’all for voting day in and day out with all your might.

So, I got this mini whilst thrifting for, like, $2, NWT. It makes for a great casual, relaxed look, but where the hell does The Gap get off charging $50 for a tiny denim miniskirt? Not that it isn’t great. It is. It’s just that I wouldn’t dream of wearing this without leggings on underneath. It’s SCANDALOUSLY short. And tiny. And not worth that crazy sticker price, which makes finding it for next to nothing that much sweeter. I went BANANAS thrifting last week. It was a month-end clearance sale, and I got 15 super awesome pieces – from a beautiful azure blue sunhat with the most dramatic brim to an armful of calico sundresses for Spring to a soft chestnut brown shrunken velvet blazer (it screams equestrian) – for just under $35 and in less than 1.25 hours. SCORE. Shopping = femme sports.

What else? Oh, you know, not much. I completed my utterly life-changing self-defense training on Sunday, and new bruises are STILL popping up all over my body. Badges of honor, my instructor calls them. I had the privilege of fighting FIVE fights at my graduation ceremony (with M and the petite there to support and cheer me on), instead of the standard three. DO NOT MESS, Y’ALL.

I was just named a member of the Femme Collective, which is gearing up for Femme2010: No Restrictions this August. Femmes, mark your calendars (and reserve your spot on the infamous Skinny + M sofabed now if you’re an out-of-towner)! Speaking of M, she and I are headed across the Bay Bridge next week for a meeting with other legally wed California couples to discuss next steps as powerful advocates for marriage equality, which I’m really excited about. Writing checks and being visible and all that is well and good, but I never feel like I’m doing enough unless I’m doing.

I will be a busy girl. A busy, happy, girly girl!

Also, we just ordered her a pair of these dapper new shoes:

My first thoughts upon seeing (yes, late, as ever) the Liberty of London collection for Target:

1. ALL YOUR FLORAL TEAPOTS ARE BELONG TO US. Seriously, I’ll have to be physically stopped from buying them in every pattern, because I’m mental like that.

2. ZOMFG, that bike comes in a blue floral. Hotsauce. What if it’s in black and white, too?! HOW WILL I CHOOSE?!

3. Her hair is so interesting. Fluffy. (Would the clothes look less appealing with flat, shiny, ultra-straight hair, I wonder?) Also, I want to see some of these pieces on a black girl, pronto. Not that I don’t appreciate the whole lily white thing – femmes come in all the colors of the rainbow, after all – but some of these softer, lighter, feather-y colors would look sososo gorgeous against darker skin tones, and I can almost see it in my mind’s eye but, you know, I’d rather look at pretty pictures.

Like on this girl, at right:

Am I right? I’m totally right. Put her in the romper, the buttery yellow dress and one of the maxis. Dreamy. Also? I want to be at whatever tea party they’re having.

4. I don’t know what that probably-see-through romper-nightie looking thing is exactly, but can I pretty please wear it in public on hot summer days if it isn’t too scandalous? OK, great.

5. Last but not least, if M gets a hunter-themed room in the house, surely I deserve one that is purely Liberty of London-themed. It is only fair, no? Exactly.

I was just so excited about it all that I had to share it with y’all. I felt it a pressing obligation and hope you enjoyed it.

This concludes the LOL for Target stylegasm. Thanks for joining us!

PS. Don’t forget to vote today!

PPS. Don’t forget to scroll down if you missed last night’s late post, “Pearls & Curls”!

Palettes! THESE ARE A LOT OF COLORS. But it works.

I’ve had this really fabulous Kenneth Cold necklace forever and as far as I can tell, it’s made a single, sad little appearance on this blog.

I still remember buying it!

M & I were at this amazing, super industrial outlet store near our old place – in its heyday, I’d leave with an armful of shoes, and its slow decline saddened me – and I saw it in the glass case. The brown leather is unbelievably supple and buttery, and the little pearls randomly strewn through out this textured silver, well, I died. Of course, I took it home, never once suspecting it’d end up around my waist one day.

I love it this way and probably ought to have more faith in its construction, but I was a little afraid all my rigorous running around and climbing up and down rickety old stepladders might break it. It turns out fate would take care of that for me, when I spilled a shitload of cooking oil all over the front of the dress whilst preparing for dinner with poor scientist. will blog for food, requiring a head-to-toe wardrobe change.

It happens to the best of us, right? Or maybe just me. Hm.

Hey, are you voting daily? You know, to help FFAF win a richly deserved 2009 Lezzy Award? WELL, GEEZ, GET VOTING ALREADY!

(CLICK ON THE IMAGE ABOVE TO VOTE NOW!)

I am still in total and complete shock that Fit For A Femme made it through the nominations rounds to end up competing with super big dogs like Autostraddle (also up for Best New Blog) and Dorothy Surrenders (a repeat Lezzy Award winner) for the 2009 Culture / Entertainment Lezzy Award! It’s amazing. Just being here flanked by the awesomeness of those two is totally amazing and so, so fantastic.

I need to profusely thank The Lesbian Lifestyle for putting the Lezzys on every year. I need to lavish thanks and praise and admiration for each and every reader and supporter out there who nominated FFAF, or who comments here, reads here, spreads the word and of course, to the thousands and thousands and thousands of you who will vote for me DAILY over the next week, thank you. VOTE LIKE HELL, Y’ALL! (But remember, only one vote per day. Don’t be all greedy. This isn’t…hm, well maybe it is the online lesbian Olympics. Go figure!)

I so want to be praising Dolly up on my fancy internet stage in a dramatic gown next Wednesday for seeing to it that Fit For A Femme won a big, shiny Lezzy. Y’all know how I like big, shiny things.

XOXO,

A very grateful and humbled FFAF ?

Alas, I need each and every one of you to click on the image above to get to The Lesbian Lifestyle, where nominations continue untilmidnight on Sunday. We have just over 24 hours to make sure that Fit For A Femme gets enough nominations to make it through to the voting round! Only the top 3 nominated blogs in each category will go on to the voting round, so nominate your hearts out, and ask your friends and lovers to nominate, too!

If I make it through, I’ll post a poll on what you really, really, really, really, really want to see on FFAF, and the winning idea will get exactly what they ask for!

Love,

FFAF

Howdy, kittens! This day was strange. It began shrouded in fog and sadly, a local tragedy. When we woke up this morning, we could hear the non-stop fog horns on all the cargo ships out in the bay, coming and going from the Port of Oakland, under the Golden Gate Bridge. We’re pretty far from the water, so it was kind of spooky and magical. M got the alert about the power being down as she dropped me off at the office (wearing a sweater!), and headed back home to wait it out while I worked.

Fast-forward four or so hours. 30 minutes south a town and company on the cusp of their IPO and surely the family of the crash victims began to pick up the pieces. The lethal fog had lifted completely, leaving the sweet, warm sun to shine down on the city. It lapped it up. M picked me up. We lapped it up! She and I decided a day this spectacular didn’t deserve squandering, and so we packed up and headed out into the world for a reading date. Our first thought was Atlas Cafe – they have such a great little back patio. Then, I remembered Pilsner Inn’s lovely little courtyard and we decided reading over beers at 3PM was far superior to reading over iced mochas. Alas, Pilsner Inn had workers toiling away back there, with loud machines and sawdust (and carting in, I think, a Creature from the Black Lagoon arcade game!), so we bid the bartender adieu and made our way down the street.

After snapping a few pics of intriguing local scenery (cherry blossoms, painted deer (above, being air-shot by M), scooters with giant wooden boxes affixed to the rear), I remembered Cafe Flore in the Castro! It was perfect. We quickly took up a carafe of margaritas and a small table. Nouvelle Vague played quietly in the back of my mind. The sky shone blue, blue, blue and it was heavenly.

Two more days until Flourish’s one-year anniversary party! It’s going to be fabulous. We can’t wait.

PS. I know. I pegged my jeans. I couldn’t help it. I felt a gripping need to show some ankle.