Purple Haze

The other day I found this gem while thrifting on Haight.
Apparently, all Levis with orange tags were only made on the 60s.

THE HISTORY SEWN INTO THIS JACKET THO.

The feel of the hippie grime inside the soft damaged denim and burnt out (literally) fuz collar is comforting.

The circled R also means it was the 100th of the item made.

Hopin it made it all the way to see Jimi Hendrix circa Woostock, and back.

Wouldn’t that be the shit.

Treat Yoself

After a good binge on Netflix all morning/afternoon reminiscing on old episodes of Private Practice (TAYE DIGGS YOU BABE), I pulled myself ~almost~ together.I was surprised at my ability to make it out of the house in one piece. I have noticed a slight decline in my presentability for the general public: Sweats x sweats x sweats.

(Note: Karl Lagerfeld believes that once one has reached this point in life, adorning sweats as a daily ritual, one has lost control of their life. With this philosophy, the man should really be in the ranks of Socrates and Plato.)

But I am alone in a big city waiting for a change in lifestyle. Feeling needy, I decided to take myself out.

I visited the DeYoung, a fave museum of mine, in Golden Gate Park.

They have had a long running exhibit dedicated to Bvlgari, the Italian jewelry powerhouse: La Dolce Vita and Beyond. The stones, the colors, the designs, the beauty. It was fvcking magical. People are amazing; creators are amazing. 

I continued my day at the Westfield Mall downtown, because really, who wouldn't. 

Classy museum visits paired with food courts and tourists. 

But I told myself I am classy and fabulous and I deserve it.

*celfie dans la dressing room de Victoria’s Secret*

Then the remainder of the night went down like this:

*Me stalling downtown waiting for a text, simultaneously craving a burger and fries.

*Growing more and more pathetic waiting and stalling, while various burger establishments close because San Francisco can’t stay up later than sunset.

*Jesus Christ get a hold on yourself. DO NOT give up on this hamburger.

*Gets on the next bus to get that damn burger that should have been eaten 2 damn hours ago.

*checks phone: 1) time is 945, burger place closes at 10. 2) Said Text message.

********Stupid asshole**********

And that’s when I decided the moral of this story:

A man will never take the place of good food.

And dating yourself is probably the best/most healthy thing that can ever happen to you.

Treat yoself to culture and class.

And trashy mall dates.

Because you are worth it.