Archives for category: Drive-Bys: Dirty Style

So this is terrifically late. It’s okay though, no one’s been waiting on their tippy toes for this anyway.

Hosted by SFFAMA, Sunday’s fashion awards were executed quaintly and cleanly, with an air of sophistication a la ladies who lunch. Except for, if you’ve been to a fashion event with me before, you’ll know that someone (ahem) always shows up to drink the wine and pretend like she can take photos… A half-absent guest list, several glasses and a stolen bottle of wine later, this is what happened:

Photo by SFFAMA

Photo by Eventvibe

Dress, vintage // tights, Musical Legs // Shoes, Sam Edelman

Oh, and did I mention there was a fashion show? Yeah, I know, from the flyers and announcements, you never would have guessed it but it was as pleasant a surprise as any and the gents were sporting bicycles as accessories. How modern.

And finally, this- Bacca da Silva is the cutest, cuddliest man and I now forever love him. That’s all.

Early evening yesterday was the wonderful designer (and the sweetest girl ever) Alyssa Nicole‘s Fall fashion preview at Silverman Gallery hosted by DNA (Designers+Artists). Dominated by nude and brown hues in silky, sheer fabrics, this delicate, ethereal collection was a breath of fresh air in a market dominated by the heaviness of the hippie aesthetic and leatherdaddy chic. I arrived late (as usual) but thanks to the fashion show code of ¬†“always start at least 30-min after the scheduled time”, I actually got to see the show in it’s entire greatness. The refreshing live music was called to a pause and two by two, the models sauntered by the hungry audience. Sophisticated and pretty were Alyssa’s dresses and also the desires of those who were fortunate enough to have been on the invitation-only list.¬†Speaking of the guest list, the attendees also left little to be desired. From Alyssa’s intern, Ken Chen to some of the more repeat fashion event offenders (in a good way), this event showcased a very favorable cross-section of San Francisco’s stylistic abilities.

Despite the plethora of meticulous and highly stylish gents in the city, men’s fashion events in San Francisco are shockingly scarce. Lucky for us Bay-dwellers though, The Bold Italic comes to the rescue like it always seems to by hosting a week long fashion event geared at menswear and menswear only. Last night they hosted a fashion show, showcasing the likes of Revolver, Jacks, and Candystore Collective, among others. One thing that came to my surprise as well as my delight was their decision to forego models in place of average joes. The effect was fashion that was tangible, fun, and likable.

Here are a couple of dandies I snapped up on my iPhone last night ( my Rebel died on the way over, it was quite embarrassing to take someones photo on a flat thing for a change).

I know everyone’s been posting their outfits and pics today from the IRL Nasty Gal/Lookbook.nu party hosted by DNA (Designers+Artists) at Space Gallery but I forgot to take any pics of my own outfit (which was AWESOME, if I may say so myself), so the delay was necessary. First pic is of me and my girl Alyssa by Carolina Ramirez, the coolest photographer chick at the party (waaaaaaay cooler than me) and the rest of them are style snaps I stole on the drunk of the moment.

Me: Bolero jacket, vintage // Shirt, from Shotwell // Skirt, Picky Studio // Shoes, Jeffrey Campbell

(Last three pics from this dope bar in FiDi called Rickhouse).

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NOLA was a unique plethora of tastes and sounds that I’ve never experienced quite so harmoniously before in my life. It was a mix of cultural electric shock and unreluctant drunkness with unfortunate consequences (like waking up drunk the morning of my Loyola tour). If you’ve never been: go. If you have been: go back. And if you live there: thankyou. Overall, I apologize for my unsteadiness with this blog, but I have a bunch of stuff that I’ll be posting soon, so hold your horses.

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This trip was kind of sort of fucking amazing yaddadamean? There washandles of vodka, some Black Label, loooots of cajeta, and some other goodies (that are obviously to explicit to advertise on this blog… kinda). Whenever I go to the beach, I can’t see how anyone can choose any other lifestyle. The worst thing is coming back on a Sunday like we did and being hurled back into all the hectic bullshit that is a part of your actual life, not just your pretend getaway one. Some day I’ll buy a big plot of land on the beach and some quads and just tear it up with some friends, caution to the wind like it should be. The only downside to e a beach like Avellanas/Tamarindo is that the locals give a bad name to their country. If any of you have ever been there, I promise that not everyone in this country is a fucking drug dealer trying to see up your skirt. At least there are interesting foreigners there to make up for the disappointment of the Ticos, like those two German guys I met whose names were both Simon and they both had mohawks which they gave to eachother. Awwwww.