Very Vintage

What a weekend! It began quietly at home on Friday night. The girls and I piled on the couch with the puppies at our feet, Indian food strewn across the coffee table, Secretariat on the widescreen. On Saturday, I cursed my Navigator all the way through the Sunset to the Castro to fetch the one and only Bevin Branlandingham of Queer Fat Femme for a lovely brunch and afternoon tea. Wait a minute, scratch that. The weekend actually began Thursday night, when we hit the town to check out Flourish at Public Works. We ran into the lovely Bevin and Miss Dylan Ryan and LISF, and whoever put together the slideshow to benefit GLBT Historical Society did an amazing job. That's how it really started!

Back to tea! It was a drizzly, gray sort of day, and I thought this dress was perfect for the weather and Tal-y-Tara, the equestrian & tea shoppe I've written about here a few times before. Bevin and I were headed there for civilized conversation and to film an episode of her delightful new web series called Lesbian Tea Basket. She thought I was kidding when I told her it was part polo shop, and after I chivalrously let her out in front while I found parking nearby, I found her wandering inside in absolute awe, touching all the fine pony things and blinking her big, lush eyelashes in disbelief. We sat and ordered and talked and marveled over the little fixins for tea sandwiches, the famous scones and shortbread and cookies and, of course, sipped tea. I won't say much more but I can assure you that you'll know when the special FFAF episode goes up!

I returned Bevin just slightly past her curfew (she was off to the Santa Cruz mountains for the epic, overnight Hard French Winter Ball half of queer SF was at on Saturday night), and headed home. I needed to get out of this outfit (vintage dress and coat, Max Studio pumps, Alice + Olivia for Payless clutch) and into something suitable for Strikeforce, an MMA fight thing some of M's colleagues scored tickets to earlier in the week. Talk about a wardrobe change!

It was my first time at an official fight night, and I wore cowboy boots, ratty black tights, a short leather skirt, and a Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirt under a dark wash denim jacket. Plus layers and layers of mixed metal necklaces, a foxtail and red lips.

IT WAS EXCELLENT.

My outfit was also excellent, but I meant the fights. Amazing. I can't wait to go again, and M said that she wants to go to a big UFC fight for her birthday this year. They shot huge, 10-ft. tall flames and fireworks from the sides of the stage whenever the fighters were announced, and the crowd was well-behaved for being at a bloodsport event. (The fights weren't bloody, but they were good.) I drank beer and ate nachos and stole M's Cracker Jacks. We woke up the next morning and, in a total 180, made our way to a baby shower in Oakland, then lazed around in a cafe with some new books and filled our bellies with an Italian feast.

Hope y'all had wonderful weekends full of your favorite things, too. I'm scooting off to join the tomboy in front of the fireplace for some reading and cuddling with the pups.

XOXO, FFAF

PS. A friend and dear reader noted that it was terribly coy of me to talk about all these books and not say what they were, and she's right! Here you go: