Filtering by Tag: Gap

November Rain

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...

No Dice

Hi. My cardigan is the color of putty and has many navy blue dice outlines all over it! M says the outfit makes me look like an old-timey gambling addict (in a good way, whatever that means in tomboy-speak), and I like it a lot. I suppose I like a good gamble just as much as the next guy, I enjoy Blackjack and Texas Hold 'Em, but I deeply loathe casinos. Hate casinos.

They smell like cigarettes and death, the air is cheap and full of desperation, and the majority of the people who are there thoroughly enjoying themselves are zombies (seriously, they have the blankest stares I've ever seen) or tracksuit-clad train wrecks. Some people might urge me to yank the stick out of me arse, but it's just not my scene. Obviously. 

Um, back to the cardigan! Isn't it adorable? (HOLY SHIT SANTANA JUST SLAPPED THE FUCK OUT OF FINN ON GLEE, OMG OMG) Sorry about that. Where was I? Oh, yes. Anyway, just darling. I picked it up at a Crossroads on mega-clearance for next to nothing, but it's by a brand called POL that Modcloth sells, apparently. It reminds me of the terrible English teacher we had in the 8th grade, for she was twee and very meek and as a result, the kids would gather in the corner of her classroom and shoot craps on the floor.

Poor Miss Bell. I think that was her name, I can't remember. It's probably because she gave me permission to skip her class twice a week for choir practice, or because sometimes I'd get so bored I'd climb up onto the window ledge and take a nap, like a kitten. Kids brought booze into her class, too, and one time this skater kid set an anarchy symbol made out of hairspray on the floor on fire. He was a good kid, he made me a pretty sweet mix tape once. We were just so bored! God, the 8th grade. I was also in the Mathletes club, and alternated between wearing baby doll dresses and those really big "houser" break-dancing t-shirts.

Casinos and junior high. So weird. So, I broke up with my horseback riding instructor yesterday (and by default, the horse I've been riding all year, Dakota) and it really felt like a breakup. I was kind of a mess all evening, but I'm doing much better today. I'm either terrible at goodbyes or I greatly underestimated how attached you can get to an animal after nine months.

I decided to postpone starting at my new riding school by a week, to give myself a little mourning period. Related: A dear friend in Brooklyn decided to start taking lessons herself. I didn't even know there were horses in Brooklyn, but I think it's awesome!

OK, here's the DL on the rest of this little getup:

Cardigan: POL Skirt: Gap Suede Pumps: Franco Sarto Sunglasses: Vintage Watch: Asos Necklace: Culp Baubles Pearl Earrings: Banana Republic Rose Brooch: Somewhere in Dublin, I believe. I can't remember, but I adore it.

Halfway there to this posting daily in November business - it's hard work!



Wreck Me, Resurrect Me

We took these yesterday, when the ground was still soft and wet from Saturday's rainstorms. I was still recovering from all the fun we had at the Wild Flag show at Great American Music Hall in San Francisco.

After so many years of seeing lots of amazing shows in the Bay Area, GAMH is hands-down the winner. It's over a hundred years old and lovingly restored despite its seat in the less than desirable Tenderloin, it always feels incredibly intimate but never awkwardly so (like at Cafe du Nord or Bottom of the Hill - both definitely great, but not in the same league as GAMH), its got food and well-made drinks and just feels comfortable. I walk in there and it somehow feels homey to me.

WILD FLAG! They were really, really perfect. I haven't danced like that in ages. Everyone was amazing, but Carrie especially so - there was a lovely amount of cheerful bantering with the audience, and she'd would bounce back and forth from being very deeply and seriously draped over her guitar to being unable to suppress infectious ear-to-ear grins that we all lapped up like drunk kittens. I wish I could have asked her where she got her blouse. It was really gorgeous on her.

There was plenty of slithery slithering of guitar parts and a line about hair-pulling in a new song which nearly killed me and trademark Carrie-kicks and the exceptional Racehorse went on for like 20 minutes and I. didn't. want. it. to. ever. stop. Ever. I think I'm mildly whip-lashed from working it out so hard during the show. Perfect, perfect, perfect. 

The audience was, as expected, heavily queer. For instance, I bonded with another femme over our identical cowgirl bags and we ran into some friends whilst foraging for a bite or two. I managed to scare off the one rude (and very tall) hipster who tried to elbow his way in front of us right in the middle of the show. M bought one of the band's t-shirts - it's so awesome, wait until you see it! - and I had a major fangirl moment (aside from this entire post), but I refuse to bore you with the details. When the show ended, we took off for a midnight adventure by-the-sea under a sky full of stars, and slept like babies once we were home and tucked into bed.

Trusty, Rusty Corduroys: Gap Fringed Pony Tank: Lovebyrd Denim Shirt ,Fur Collar: Vintage Calf-Hair Wedge Boots: Adrienne Vittadini Necklace: Galibardy Earrings: Betsey Johnson

Hope everyone had wonderful weekends and remembered to Fall Back. Posting daily sure is kicking my ass, but surely somewhere in all this is an effective lesson on self-discipline, right?





We're back, we're back! It's true, we nearly made an offer on a Boston home before hopping onto our flight back home, but here we are. Home sweet home.

I've been putting more effort into building a wardrobe of staples that can be thrown on in a worry-free hurry in the mornings. It's tempting to always wear dresses - they always look like you've put more thought into getting dressed, and it isn't hard to add a belt or necklace and a blazer to create a perfect look - but it feels more sophisticated to have the freedom to assemble a smart outfit no matter what the pieces are.

Since I woke up jet lagged and fell a bit behind schedule (thank heavens we showered the night before), I couldn't spend a long time in my closet and I wanted to be comfortable. When I spied this ultra-soft striped top on its hanger, I reached for a black pencil skirt and plain black pumps, and added the braided belt for some extra texture and color. A chic little ensemble in two short minutes! I don't actually wear my Evo on my belt like that, I just wanted to show off how awesomely matched it was to my belt.

See the sweet silver infinity necklace below? That was the precious 31st birthday gift from my very best friend - we've known one another since the 7th grade!

We managed to do a spot of shopping in old Beantown. We were just around the corner from luxe Newbury Street (where I got my first ever gel mani/pedi - AMAZING), and our friends insisted on a trip to Cambridge's very impressive thrifting wonderland, The Garment District. There just wasn't enough time to sample the boutiques and secondhand gems in Jamaica Plain while we were there, but all the more reason for a return trip. We're hoping for a long weekend in the Fall, just in time for prime leaf peeping season!

I'll be sure to let you know when I post on the items we got during our travels...

Skirt: Gap Shirt: Kersh Essentials Belt: Thrifted Pumps: Charles David Loverbird Bag: H&M


Welcome to my own personal lifelong dream come true. Folger Stables is the backdrop for where I've begun (at last!) formal horseback riding lessons. Still sniffling and somewhat under the weather from my persistent cold, having canceled on brunches and parties and even my mom's birthday this past weekend, I kept one commitment: I showed up to ride a pony in Woodside on Sunday morning. I didn't have the contact information for the instructor (it was on my work email, which I thankfully have not yet had to access on the weekend), and they were expecting me. Being a no-show for my very first lesson wasn't even a consideration.

Luckily, the sun was out and the sky was clear. It was almost warm that day, even. Isn't it just stunning?

Not far from the meadow I'm pictured in, there are several stables (as above), many paddocks and pens, and at least one arena for jumping or fencing. That's where I train! The facilities are nestled in Wunderlich Park, just between our home and the Pacific Coast, with redwoods and oaks and creeks and meadows and madrones, much of which is only accessible by foot or horseback.

The tires of my car bit into the gravel of the small parking lot canopied by all the trees (one of my absolute favorite sounds, next only to walking in it), and I parked and stepped out of my car. I seemed to be the only person around and hoped I hadn't botched the time in an OTC-drugged haze, and then I stopped dead still.

I saw them. At least a dozen horses, some with their little cold weather coats on, some ignoring me, some craning their necks curiously, all of them gorgeous and possessed with distinctly unique personalities. After a few moments I looked up the hill and saw a few stablemen in the distance, fussing over a gorgeous black horse with white markings, so I headed there. They sent me back down the hill, past the parking lot to the arena, where a boy no older than ten or eleven was practicing jumps with his pony and a trainer. She sent me back uphill to the stables, and as I reached the top, a little winded, I saw him. Dakota! His reigns were held loosely in my trainer's hand, who smiled at me and told me I was early. I had no idea. I thought I was late! Without much ado at all, the trainer gave me the reigns, told me to walk Dakota to the mounting block and get acquainted, as he had to fetch waiver papers he'd forgotten back in the office for me to sign. And just like that, I was a girl all alone holding the reigns of a big bay with a jet black mane and wide brown eyes. Just like that.

We walked. I led, Dakota followed politely. The trainer came back and I completed the form, snapped my helmet on (the bangs will have to be grown out immediately as they do not at all agree with helmets), went through the motions of cinching the saddle before hoisting myself up to begin the lesson. From there it was easy, the ghosts of lessons I'd taken years ago shaking off dust and taking form again.

I feel tremendously lucky and like I've got a missing piece of my heart back again. Yay!