love this place

The Unseen Sea from Simon Christen

what I saw at Folsom Street Fair

Well, let's just say what is seen cannot be unseen, so proceed with caution (that means you, mom).











For those who don't know, the Folsom Street Fair is an annual gathering of BDSM enthusiasts in San Francisco. For about 8 hours, the streets are overrun with sexual deviants of all stripes and colors. Here are just a few of the things I saw:

- Bare-assed men getting whipped before a delighted crowd
- A pair of she-males pissing on a woman
- butt plugs (one with a whale tail hanging from it!)
- cock rings (stacked 5 or 6 high! It was like an arm party...but on a cock)
- ball gags

...and so much more! No really, so much more. Too much more. It was an experience to say the least, and I'm glad I did it but it was kind of like Disneyland--once is too much. I think I'm good for a few years.

If you have nerves of steel, check out the rest of the (NSFW) photos after the jump!

pinned

images, from top: unknown, Pierre Dal Corso photography via here, Vilhao Pham photography via here.
Just a few images that have been capturing my fancy imagination. If you want more, follow me on Pinterest. 

hot coffee

wearing UO sweater, vintage suede shorts, Lush button-down, Stella & Dot necklace, Timex watch, UO boots, random sunglasses from costume shop

My favorite weekend coffee spot happens to be the one where my boyfriend works, called Brown Owl in the Outer Sunset. He makes a mean cappuccino, and his latte art is top-notch. Totally worth the drive into the persistent fog that hovers around the neighborhood, and even more worth it on a day like today, when the weather is so nice, it's even nice in the Sunset. Woo hoo.

waning

wearing ASOS dress, vintage bag and belt, Swedish Hasbeens for H&M shoes, vintage bracelets and antique monocle necklace

Summer is, I guess, officially over. But it really just started in San Francisco, which is why it suddenly feels appropriate to post these pictures from my visit to New Orleans in May. New Orleans, the city of myriad enchantments, including the fabled Hand Grenade, a radioactive green drink made from the fermented juice of god-knows-what. Fact: if you have too many of these, your vomit will be the exact same color. I hate them, but I had to subject Wardell to their grossness for his inaugural trip. It's a rite of passage.

Love this dress. I've also worn it here, here, and here. It's always a sad day when I have to officially retire it to the "out of season" box under my bed.

where were you when it happened?

I was in my first month as a Freshman at Tulane University. I woke up to what seemed like absurd rumors that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. As soon as I became aware it wasn't an accident, I freaked. Called my parents to make sure my dad wasn't crossing the Golden Gate Bridge like he does every day for work. Because for all I knew, San Francisco could have been next. I felt sort of lucky to be in New Orleans, the kind of back asswards town that wasn't symbolic enough of "America" to warrant a copycat attack. But anxiety gave way to anger (as it does) which gave way to a profound sadness and sense of loss. I couldn't stop looking at the pictures of the towers. Of the people falling serenely out of 90th story windows, choosing that over burning to death. People who had woken up and gone to work that morning just like everyone else. I saw images of New York looking like some kind of surreal, fucked up movie set. But I also felt the groundswell of camaraderie between Americans in the wake of the attack. The quiet knowledge that, in the words of one survivor, "as long as a plane didn't crash through your office building" you weren't really having a bad day. 9/11 didn't just happen to New York. It happened to all of us.

Ten years later. I can't believe it's 10 years later.

suede

vintage suede shorts, H&M knit top

The suede shorts from this post in action. They have this genius fit--nice and roomy through the thigh so that when I sit down my legs don't look like sausages oozing out of their skins. Very important. I'll be wearing these all winter with tights, boots, and secretary blouses.

Oh, and I'm having a Kobe sleepover weekend! Yay!

more or less

images via Nanna van Blaaderen
Loving these sculptural hand knit pieces from Nanna van Blaaderen. She created them by combining knitting and braiding techniques. I have no idea where she was able to find yarn that big though. Do you suppose she used giant knitting needles?

cool hunting

Tie-neck blouse, Suede shorts, and Norwegian sweater via Black & Brown vintage

I've been pretty lucky at thrift stores/vintage boutiques/flea markets over the past few weeks. So much so, that I'm kind of on financial lockdown until I can at least unload some of my old stuff. Besides, shit's getting a little crazy in my closet and I'm out of hangers.

nail swag

From top left: Illamasqua campaign, Ben Trovato Blog, Nailside, Fuckyeahprettynails, Fleury Rose (I think?)

Just a few of the nail designs that have been catching my eye in the blogosphere lately. I'm especially fond of variations on the half-moon manicure. And all those tribal/Native American designs that there's no way in hell I'd be able to emulate.

For Fall, I'll probably need a few new polishes in my arsenal.





And finally, just because I'm an asshole, an image that you'll be trying to erase from your memory for the better part of a week.



image via Nail PornNAIL PORN! Lit-rally. Har har.