They Saw This and Thought of Me

A co-worker of mine was gifted this high heeled shoe Scotch tape dispenser.  She didn't want to keep it, and a concensous was formed by other ladies in the office (there aren't many, and menfolk largely outnumber us) that it should go to me.

It's one of the most gratuitous, hideous office supplies I think I've ever seen. I can't think of anyone who would seriously like this. Maybe Beth Chapman.  But that woman moves mountains as well as the cockles of my little coal heart so she gets a pass.  That said, it's sitting on my desk as I type this.

Sweater Weather

Today was our last full day in Texas.  Ted's mom gave me a sweater of hers that she had in the eighties.  It kind of has a Missoni type vibe to it.  It's wool and very cozy.

 Sweater - vintage

Necklace - Fenton/Fallon

 Jeans - J Brand

Shoes - Miu Miu

Ring - House of Harlow 1960

Bag - Chloe

We visited many thrift shops out here.  It was fun to see what was there, but I ended up coming away with nothing.  Sometimes you just don't have the thrifting gods in your corner.

Last night we drove through a neighborhood that takes their Christmas lights and decorating very seriously. Every street has a theme, and apparently when you buy a house in this neighborhood you buy all the decorations that come with it and have to agree to keep participating in the tradition.

I don't want it to sound like I'm saying Texas is nothing but over-the-top Christmas decorations and fireworks stands. Still, both were quite plentiful.

Christmas Key

Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas to one and all.  I'm here with Ted's family and we opened our Christmas presents earlier today.  Then I made breakfast, and afterward Ted and I went on a little walk.

He got me a ring! No, not that kind of ring, so don't get all excited just yet.  I know I sure was excited, it was the gold skeleton key ring I had talked about on here months ago.

Jacket - Helmut Lang

T-shirt - American Apparel

Cardigan - James Perse

Jeans - Acne

Ring - House of Harlow 1960

Shoes - Stella McCartney

When Christmas is Casual

This will be the first Christmas that I am spending with a family other than my own. Specifically, it's Ted's family, so I'm looking forward to seeing friendly faces and soaking up that warm, welcoming Southern hospitality. The other day I was off-handedly mentioning to Ted what I planned to wear for Christmas dinner. A long sleeve dress, flesh-colored tiny-holed fishnet hose, and blush patent pumps.  At all my family's big holiday get togethers, we make a point of dressing up. Ever since I was a child, it has always been this way. Dresses, skirts or fancy slacks for the ladies, and nice trousers and ties for the menfolk.  My family isn't stuffy, it's just how we roll on Christmas.  Allow me to hop into the Wayback Machine to show you a typical example of my sister and me in the early 1990s:

Gorgeous home perms aside, this is what normal Christmas outfits looked like.  Below is a group shot of just the ladies in our family, taken a few years earlier.  My grandma is in the center, and the lady just to her right (in the glasses and floral dress) is The Moms.

I'm a bit Macaulay Culkin in the face, but you can't ignore the drop-dead elegance of neon friendship bracelets.

So, like I was saying, I was just casually running the whole dress-hose-heels thing by Ted, not for his approval but more as an FYI news bulletin.  And he was like, Whaa-whaa-whaat? And then he explained that in his family they do. Not. Get. Fancy. For Christmas Eve dinner.  Like at all.  Everyone shows up in denim and sneakers, and he kindly suggested that I throw on some jeans too, and maybe, you know, some sort of top, and all will be well and good.

I just kind of stared at him, trying to process this information, but all that was going through my head was 'Does not compute.'  This goes against everything that I have ever known in my thirty years of life.  I also felt a bit defensive. It's not like I'm going to waltz in wearing a gold lamé evening gown and look horribly out of place.  Why can't I wear something that makes me feel both comfortable and beautiful?  What's more, I think dressing up for a special occassion is a sign of respect to your host.  They took the time to prepare their home and hearth for you, so why not show your appreciation by having good manners and taking some time to look like you care about them, too.  I liken it to bringing a hostess gift, saying please and thank you, or offering to help with the dishes when the meal is over.

Being fancy, especially at Christmas, is just part of my DNA.  I explained this all to Ted, but he emphatically urged me to please bring at least one pair of jeans to have as an option, which I was totally planning on doing anyway. 

When you embark on a romantic adventure with a new love, sooner or later, in most circumstances, you at some point engage in their family's rituals.  A grandparent's birthday, a cousin's wedding, a big family-style holiday meal.  Ted and I have been together for well over two years and we are still navigating our way through each other's families.  It's exciting, but I can easily get really anxious about making good impressions.  Maybe erring on the side of fancy is my comfort food, my go-to safe place.  But I also understand the importance of being flexible, and respecting the traditions of your sweetheart's family.  I haven't packed my suitcase yet, but alongside the jeans I'm fairly sure I'll throw the dress in there too.  I probably won't end up wearing it, and it will most likely serve as more of a security blanket than anything else.

Oof.

Gentlefolk, I am pretty much spent.  I am sure so many of you feel similarly!

The Moms and I just had dinner on the quiet and Christmas-y Chestnut Street, and I later washed everything down with about eighteen pieces of her legendary homemade fudge.  Tis the season for stuffing one's face, and every year I try to stave that off but sooner or later I cave.

I have a lot to do in the next couple of days but I still plan on posting.  I have a cool story to tell you about a fur coat I found in a thrift shop, and well as a longer personal tale also related to fur.  Right now I'm listening to Exile on Main Street, which never fails to put me in a good mood.  As much as I love Christmas music, sometimes it's nice to have a break.

The Three Piece Rule

Some of you may not be aware, but in the 1950s and 1960s, these women could not walk down the streets of many major American cities without a very real fear of being arrested.

In the years following World War II and up into the early 1970s, from New York to San Francisco to Miami, police had the right to arrest women who favored a more masculine way of dressing.  It was considered deviant behavior, and vice squads often raided bookstores, bars, clubs, and other places unmarried women congregated.  If you haven't figured it out by now, these laws were specifically designed to target and punish lesbians.

New York adopted the "three piece rule," which meant that if a woman was stopped for the way she was dressed but was wearing at least three pieces of traditionally feminine clothing, she was set free.  Some women took up this rule, others brazenly ignored it.

I thought I knew a fair amount of queer history, but the further I investigated this sad chapter of American law, the more incredulous I became.  I'm not going to summarzie all the great articles I read on this subject, but if you are interested in learning more, take a look at this article from Florida State University's law library. If you have a subscription to Lexis Nexis, have a look at this article, Litigating for Lesbian and Gay Rights: A Legal History as well.

I am just so amazed that so much time and effort was spent on arresting citizens who were not breaking any laws, who were going about their business and maybe wearing a pair of pants while doing it.  Is that not the definition of persecution?  But when the mentality of society is pants = gay and gay = bad, why should I be surprised that actual laws existed for no other reason than to frighten and intimidate a small minority group?

I wear pants not every day, but most of the time.  Could I pass the three piece rule any given day of the week?  Look down. Could you?  This is what the passage of time has afforded us.  It was most certainly not just Yves Saint Laurent and his legendary and scandalous-at-the-time Le Smoking pantsuit.  It was the courage of women who lived in a culture of fear, the gradual shift in society's scope of acceptance, and the repeal of unjust legislation.

This is why photos of these Eisenhower-era ladies are so amazing to me.  Even in a pre-Facebook world, a photo was still a photo, documentation of the life you lead, and you never knew whose hands it would fall into.  The photos in this post came from this flickr photo stream.  I encourage you to check it out too.

(Note: I had this post prepped late last week, but with Don't Ask Don't Tell finally being sent to the gallows, I figured what better time to give Americans - and my international readers too - more food for thought on the history of GLBT oppression here in the States.)

New Asterisk (+ My Article) Out Now!

It's the end of the year and Asterisk Magazine is wrapping things up with an issue devoted to all things 'Made in SF.' I talk about Nooworks, a beautiful Mission boutique.

If you live in the Bay Area, keep your eyes open for the new issue - this rainbow felt Golden Gate loveliness is my favorite cover of the year.  For everyone else, there's always the online version, which takes nothing away from the print, save the tangibility of a brand new magazine to hold in your hands.

On a somewhat related note, what a year this has been, right?  It's so weird to think that earlier this spring I was part of a small spread on local fashion bloggers in the first issue of this seventy-two inch square rag, and now I'm a regular writer for them.  And a fashion writer, no less!  Although, honestly, if I was writing for a different section I would not be nearly as excited.

Related still are the milemarkers of this year (stuff that has happened as reported on this blog and off of it too) and when I take the time to process it all it's a little overwhelming.  So many highs and things to be happy about (the aforementioned magazine writing gig, moving to a new apartment, my first Fashion Week, the beginnings of my new online business) and the sad stuff too (dealing with depression, the deaths of those I've known my whole life as well as those I've never met).  I was thinking of doing an end-of-the-year thing on here but I'm not entirely convinced that it is necessary.  I mean, one can only lovingly look back on oneself so many times without getting a tad redundant.  So, one less blogger waxing poetic about herself?  Consider that my early Christmas gift to you.

Martha Maxine

Grandmother, my dad's mom, passed away recently. She lived in Indiana her whole life and I had not seen her face to face since I was in high school. We did enjoy being penpals in the mid 2000s, until it became too difficult for her to hold a writing instrument. She had a controlled flamboyance to her penmanship and dotted her i's with tiny circles.

It is via Grandmother that I came into this clutch purse, which I wrote about almost exactly a year ago. I thought I'd take a minute and post a few photos of her in her younger years. Grandmother was just over five feet tall, my Grandaddy just over six feet. It was no wonder she favored heels.

They were married on April 1, 1944.  Grandaddy's name was Bernard but he often went by 'Tony.' Grandmother once told me that they were driving back from their honeymoon in Florida when they heard on the car radio that President Roosevelt had passed away.

Her first name was Martha, but few people called her that. As a small child she acquired the nickname "Sug," which in itself was short for "Sugar." Those close to her called her Sug throughout her life. She also answered to Maxine.

Here she is with her mom, Marie, whose love of costume jewelry I wrote about here.

I like this photo because she seems to be laughing at something off-camera.  It has a very laid back vibe, with her saddle shoes, kerchief, and her sailor overall covered leg jauntily swung over the arm of the chair.  In this photo, most likely taken in the late 1930s, she is on the property of her grandfather, who went by Doodle.  My family sure loves their nicknames, yes?  How come I never got one?  This is an outrage!

This is Grandmother's graduation photo from Greensburg High School. Her husband, my Grandaddy, went to Greensburg High too, as well as their children, my dad and my aunt.  Greensburg was a small town and only had one high school and as far as I know this is still the case.  Grandmother and I had very different lives, but when I look at her photos the connection that I feel is unmistakeable.

Brogues and Heels

That horrid propietor of fashion-coma inducing footwear Barneys has recently begun their major markdowns.  Like a total sheep, I checked things out, and came away with a wishlist of stuff that is actually in my size.  There are two camps: super high platforms and menswear with a twist.  Curse you Barneys and your crack cocaine shoes!

(Clockwise left to right: Prada, Marc Jacobs, Robert Clergerie, Prada)

Birdland

I really love the skirt I am wearing.  It is vintage and is a true circle skirt.  There are large hand-embroidered parrots all around.  It has some bulk and is warm, but not super heavy.

Sweater- vintage

Skirt - Tachi Castillo (vintage)

Belt - Eugenia Kim

Necklace - H&M

Ring - family Heirloom

Bag - Chloe

Shoes - Marni

Pole Dance

Haha! You wish, don't you? Another time, another website, my friends. Here's me and a pole and whatever it was I wore today.

Jacket - Ralph Lauren

Blouse - thrifted

Belt - Salvatore Ferragamo

Earrings - my godmother

Shoes - Jimmy Choo

Holiday Party Decor - P&C Style

Last night Ted and I went to a festive clam bake (clam bake = warm and toasty party) put on by the indomitable Annie of Poetic and Chic. It was Ms. P & C's birthday to boot, and her mastery of hostessing was undeniable.  Annie even had authentic fondue.  Fondue, with actual wooden sticks!

Although I had lots of human interactions, all my party photos are of her decorations.  They are either vintage family heirlooms or things she made with her own two hands.

We're decorating our place for Christmas in the next few days.  It won't look this good, but I definitely absorbed some inspiration from Chez Annie.