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.

Alone in the City

Not sad, pity me, lonely, alone.Just physically, by myself.
Because finals are over and school is out and no one else at my flowery school has a job to keep them here.
And the majority of them miss their bright and shiny LA.

But, in all honesty, they’re the ones missing out. 

San Francisco at this time is probably the greatest thing I have ever experienced. 

(Minus the tourists that come into work and wait 4 HOURS to get a slice of cheesecake…You can’t ever satisfy a hungry family of 6 from Kansas who just bought $300 worth of shoes at Sketchers.)

It’s not like any one thing has changed. It’s the feeling of the city that has changed. 

It’s kind of like that feeling when you get actual mail, in your actual mailbox, and it’s not another meaningless postcard from the college you know deep down you should have attended

Kind of like the feeling when that guy you’ve casually been obsessed with since the beginning of time, actually wants to hang out. 

Kind of like that feeling when you have tacos that satisfy every craving ever.

Kind of like when you finish that awful book and can finally let go of all the heavy words and breathe. 

Kind of like when the homeless man making his own art on the street corner looks up at you with that not so frequent sparkle in his eye, after saying his paintings looked (hella) rad. 

Kind of like that feeling when you’re drinking a warm latte on a park bench, looking up at the city skyline, getting almost too emotional about how damn pretty it is. 

 

Or really– it’s like that one very seldom feeling, when you’re in a place, at a certain time, not really doing anything at all, and your entire being is just content. 

 

That’s what San Francisco feels like right now.

Bright and shiny and good. 

Being alone is great. 

Just a few things to keep in mind

1. If there is a nice schizophrenic lady on the bus, calling (yelling) you Mrs. Pornography, it is probably best to remove yourself from the seat directly in front of her immediately.

2. If you don't know how to handle the male species, its OK. 

They prob don't know how to handle you either. 

It's best to find infatuation elsewhere, perhaps with an inanimate object, like tacos. 

Tacos will always be there.

3. If you find yourself anxious about finals, or really anything in general, take a quick (2hour) break Target. 

If that doesn't do it for ya, just hop on the 38L and take a quick (45 min) trip downtown to the next nearest Target. (They probably most likely have what you need, because it's not like the last Target had the same products). 

Spend some time there (2.5 hours). Maybe even stop in at Starbucks for a pick me up. 

It's ok. 

Your anxiety needs it.

& lastly

4. Everyone needs a good pair of loafs. 

I have a philosophy final today

But it's ok

Because this donut gets me. 

Happy Finals. 

(crying)

Wat is Life

In my first 47 days of being back in San Francisco I have successfully:

Spilled a whole jug of milk on Muni. 

(Sorry to y'all who rode it after I got off, I'm sure milk is a good time when it sits on the hot 31 all day. & thanks to the lady who bagged it that way... You had one job.)

I have plunged a clogged toilet filled to the brim with shit.

(Yes, I mean real shit & no it was not mine.)

Officially have a new job as a host at the Cheesecake Factory. 

(I basically have to smile and wear all black//The two things I can handle best)

I spilled Iced Tea on my computer, and for 3 weeks I went without one. 

Let's take a moment of silence for this fine piece of technology. 

I joined this "thing"  

With sisters,  screams, and "oh my gods" and "exciting" and "Theta" are frequently used words. 

I don't use the S word. It's merely a thing.  

I am continuing with the theme of
 "NoNewFriends"

My life has proved to be the biggest joke; I am a walking lol.

However, the past 3 weeks have to be the most ridiculous turn around in my "life events" category:

I actually want to stay in San Francisco. 

Runnin

The other day I went for a run, and ended up at a Golden Gate Bridge outlook. (Which I like to say is more or less in my backyard.) I jogged up the path, to the end, where the trail met a drop off to the bay. I looked around. Other than the iconic red bridge there with me, I was alone.

THANK GOD because after running up the coastal trail my quads were screaming, and all I really wanted was to drop in a ball under the nearby bench.
Minor breakdown.
After however, I managed to crawl up a cement wall encasing a garden of roses, and began stretching. The bridge was facing me in the distance, holding up the rush hour traffic driving in and out of San Francisco. The sun was slowly setting into the the fog, which was in return swallowing the city. A cool Indian Summer breeze hit my face- one of those breezes that smacks you in the face and it's like your whole life makes sense for 5 seconds.

I heard a pair of shuffling feet behind me, climbing up the trail. "Great I thought. Sit up, breathe normal, at least try and look like half an athlete..." It was a man, with a big backpack, and a camera. A tourist in its' natural habitat.

He snapped photos of the bridge.
With every shutter of the camera, chills ran up my spine. I love watching people do their craft- drawing, painting, dancing, reading, eating (jk, but really); it's so inspiring to see someone's voice through their work without a word being said.

He turned and said something to me, but I didn't understand. I did that thing where you nod your head and laugh awkwardly...to the point where you have to stop yourself because its so awkward. He kind of nodded back, and walked away, probably questioning my sanity/ignorance/exhausted persona.

But, he came back.

In a thick accent he said, "Miss, excuse me, don't be scared."
(ok bud thats the first childhood safety lesson: it's what kidnappers say right after they offer the candy)
I sat there, unable to flee as the lactic acid build up in the lower half of my body was unstoppable, so I nodded politely and waited. He went on to ask if he could take some pictures of my back facing the bridge. Nothing major.
I didn't have to move, and more importantly, the camera didn't have to see my face. So I said sho! (In that exact way because I don't know how to speak like a normal person)

He took some photos and we chatted. Visiting form Argentina, he had seen the city (loved it), and was leaving the next day.
Honestly, it was all small talk- the people, the traffic, the bars. He asked me out for a drink, but I politely declined. (lol at not being 21). We parted ways, he headed further down the trail and continued photographing the bridge that seemed to hold tight everything San Francisco had to offer in its steel structure, as I turned and jogged back home to the Inner Richmond.

But, I don't know, running back down the trail I had not so gracefully climbed up, I became overwhelmingly inspired.
There was something about being there in that moment that made me realize we all have something. We all have something that defines us, and whether or not we have found it is up to our journey.
Each person driving across the Golden Gate Bridge had a destination. He had traveled all the way from Argentina to take photos of San Francisco. I had just run 4 miles of straight incline. But why?

Because we all have an interesting story to tell.

HAY

Village Girl

Simi Valley > San Francisco, California

Curly Hair//Runner//Sophomore @ USF

Fashion//Media//People//Tacos
Kelly Cutrone is my spirit guide

Attempting to create a lifestyle

Blogging to share my story of being an un-classy mess in that young Richmond district. 

Here's to a new school year, and a new sense of being (basically a hair color I can feel proud of)

xoxo

Ashley