A beautiful day.
This is so much less about my outfit than it is San Francisco's unfailing yet surprising and constant beauty. All these were taken over the range of a few hours at most, and the various backdrops are within mere minutes of each other. It is easy to forget how remarkable this city is; true passion and loyalty requires constant devotion, the ability to let certain angles fade and slide back into focus. It reminds me of set changes in an opera or musical. Or of love.
Wonder will come and go like the tide when you live here, is what I am getting at, and this day was full of it.
Ocean Beach was cold but clear as a bell, and it sure didn't stop dozens of kite surfers from getting into the Pacific's icy waters. M insisted on skipping rocks into the waves and we ran around like banshees in the spray and blowing sand. Those branches I'm clutching on? That's in Golden Gate Park, in front of Rainbow Falls. Man made or not, it's a tranquil little place to stop on John F. Kennedy Drive. Finally, there's the delightful Tulip Garden (though these photos are suspiciously devoid of tulips), which lies in the shadow of the historic Dutch Windmill (and used to pump tens of thousands of gallons of water into the park!).
And there you are. For the record, I'm wearing Lamica boots with H&M jeans, a random flimsy tee with a little zippered pocket, an old striped scarf and my Blanc Noir wool coat. The cheeky hat is M's, and she got it from a little gay boy boutique on Castro Street. The boys working there bickered lovingly in a very entertaining manner. Goorin Bros. hand warmers and Spy sunglasses.
But I know y'all are going to fuss over the scenery, so do!