Classic Films as They're Meant to Be Seen

The last modern film I watched was Man of Steel. I didn't really like it very much. My cousin was undecided about watching it and I told her not to bother; it sucks. Then her fiance chimes in stating, "It was the best movie I've seen. I'll see it again. I'm gonna buy the DVD." It doesn't take very much to stimulate his brain. In fact, that's how it is with most viewing audiences today. It's all about eye candy: explosions, speed, and sex appeal. Yawn. The movie wasn't entirely bad. The acting was actually well done. It's too bad there wasn't more of it. Man of Steel was 90% action and 10% plot. This does not make for a good film. 

This is why I prefer to view classic films. There was less reliance on action and more emphasis on good acting and a good plot. The society of its time dressed classier and conducted themselves with utmost respect for others. I swear by Turner Classic Movies and Netflix. I can have a 24 hour classic film fest in the comforts of my home. I watch for entertainment purposes, but I can't help but watch for its educational value. I study the wardrobe, hairstyles, and make-up. Lately, I've been watching more 1930s musicals to gather ideas for my chorus girl troupe such as outfits and routines. Now I'm looking more at speech so I can practice speaking in a 1930s dialect.

I've watched classic films since I was a wee tot mainly due to my dad's influence. He, too, enjoys classic films. I always thought about what it would be like to see these films on the big screen. I would love to watch the 1933 King Kong classic on the big screen and The Wizard of Oz! I used to dream about owning an old movie theatre that would show nothing but classic films. The films today just don't stand up to the films of yesteryear.

Thank goodness for Stanford and Castro Theatres. These movie houses are devoted to showcasing classic films. Stanford tends to show films that are pre-1960 whereas Castro will occasionally show modern films.

Stanford Theatre

University Avenue in Palo Alto is a throwback to vintage Americana. It's a mix of antique and modern storefronts, but well maintained to retain a vintage feel. You will find eateries that are themed to reflect the bygone era. Unfortunately, the prices do not. Yet, Stanford Theatre is surprisingly inexpensive. For $7 you get a double feature, and refreshments average a $1.50. The theatre itself is a classic movie museum. Large (original) movie posters are framed and hung prominently throughout the theatre. There is a separate gallery containing movie artifacts and literature. The contents change with each showcasing film. 

Stanford tends to theme each season. There have been decade specific, Hitchcock, Astaire & Rogers, Film Noir, Silent, Bogart, pre-code, etc. Every Christmas Eve, the theatre will show It's a Wonderful Life. It's always a good time since the crowd interacts with the film. You'll hear cheering & clapping for the protagonist and boos & hisses for the antagonist. Watching It's a Wonderful Life at Stanford Theatre is now my annual Christmas tradition.

At the center of the stage is the Wurlitzer organ. Before and after each 7:30 showing is a performance. If I take in an early show, I'll stay long enough to listen to the performance. When the theatre shows a silent film, the music accompaniment is always live. I took my dad to a silent film showing and he absolutely loved it. "Better than TMC!" He was grateful for the intermission to use the facilities and get more refreshments.

I'm hoping that Stanford will have another early Hollywood Musicals festival (their last one was 12 years ago) or perhaps even a Busby Berkeley festival. If they do, I would love to do a live performance with my dance troupe. 

Castro Theatre
Like the Stanford, Castro was also built and showcasing films in the early 20s. The theatre stays true to its art deco elegance and architecture. Located in the heart of the Castro District, this theatre is the iconic landmark that glows brightly each night. Castro is not exclusive to classic films. Occasionally, it will showcase modern films a few times a month. Like Stanford, Castro also has thematic festivals. The biggest draw is the Noir City festival each January and the Silent Film Festival held each June. There are occasional mini-festivals such as the Hitchcock 9 and Silent Winter. In the mezzanine, you will find vendors hawking literature, knickknacks, apparel and antiques suited to the festival. Most attendees (myself included) will dress accordingly. I often don my femme fatale outfit for Noir City and a 1920s outfit for the silent pictures.

Apart from these festivals are thematic double features. One double feature theme was the mafia screening The Godfather and Goodfellas. This was a 6 hour double feature, but thankfully, the theatre held an extended intermission between each film.

Unfortunately, Castro isn't as inexpensive as Stanford. $10 for a double feature is still a good deal, but the refreshments reflect the prices at your contemporary mega movie theatres.

Most films today lack substance, style, plot and, most importantly, originality. There is always a market for these films that appeal to the mindless drones of today's society. But for the rest, for those who truly appreciate the art of film, Stanford and Castro are there to truly entertain their movie audience.

Femme Fatale

I've always maintained an interest in detective novels. Raymond Chandler and James Ellroy are among my favorite authors in this genre. Its motion picture equivalent is Film Noir which was at its peak during the 1940s. There's just something visually appealing about this genre. So for my latest photoshoot, I chose to dress as the striking femme fatale. I'm amazed with the results. I never wear this much make-up such that I almost didn't recognize myself. Plus, I'm always smiling. Here are a select few.

Un mensaje a la familia Miranda

Escribo éste apunte con todo respeto...

Me di cuenta que unos de su familia siempre leen mis escritos. Son ustedes ¿no? Un de Richmond -- y ya sé que está cerca de Pinole. Y el otro de websitio "North Peninsula Neighbors" donde trabaja S. Miranda la "suegra" de Demian. Investigué el "IP" (ahí estaba en mi página "analytics") y también el sitio donde encontré esa información.

Lo que no entiendo es  ¿por qué ustedes siempre me tengan interés si nunca nos encontramos? No quiero ningún problemas con ustedes y espero que su familia tampoco les quieren.Yo no soy (ni era) el problema; solo Demian. Él esta dañado y tiene muchos problemas...De verdad, lo amaba siempre y tengo mucho cariño por él pero ya sé que no nos podemos ser juntos si él no aprende ni quiere hacerse un persona cambiada.

Hazme un favor y déjame en paz. Es solo lo que quiero. Que vive bién y Dios les bendiga.

Con respeto,
Noemí

La bailarina

For nearly a decade, I had been an occasional swing dancer at various Rockabilly venues. After awhile, it got pretty boring since most Rockabillies don't know anything beyond the 4-count Jive and few knew how to do East Coast Swing. Trust me, any dancer who touts how great they are at Jive really aren't great dancers at all. In 2009, I decided to try other forms of swing such as Lindy Hop, Charleston and Balboa. I took a few private lessons to refine what I already knew and my teacher immediately said, "what's your purpose? Do you want to perform or compete because you already know how to dance." I never gave the matter much thought since I felt I needed more improvement. So he trained me to be a performer and recommended joining a troupe.

When I returned to San Francisco, I was determined to join a dance troupe. A friend of mine introduced me to one lady who ran the Deco Belles. When I expressed my interest, she took a good look at me and stated, "there are other dance troupes in the Bay Area," and she immediately dismissed my presence to talk with my friend. I was insulted. She judged me solely on my appearance and not my ability as a dancer. At first I thought, "is it because I'm not rail thin?" That had always been something that deterred me from inquiring about other troupes. Most of the girls are really short and petite. I'm very tall and curvy. Later, I met a Deco Belle who was much larger than me. She stated that it was my tattoos that this person took exception to. It made sense. None of the Belles had tattoos. I guess I felt a little better.

I heard about other troupes and saw their routines, but I didn't really feel a connect with them, or I thought they just weren't that great. I thought about training for burlesque but I'm not quite confident enough to take my clothes off in front of an audience. Again, I attended shows and noticed there were plenty of bigger girls who knew how to get a crowd going. More power to them, but I'm just not that confident...yet. 

Earlier this year, I was told about a newly formed dance troupe looking for more swing dancers...and they had tattoos! Without even a meeting I said, "count me in." The troupe is focused more on a 1930s style Chorus Girl dance troupe. The style is Charleston as well as some Lindy moves. Over the past four months we had been learning new routines and training for future performances. We met every Monday night to learn new moves. It was a bit of a challenge getting all 12 girls committed to the troupe and we ended up losing 2 of them. Other times, someone was always absent (I admit I missed 2 practices). It made it harder to foresee how this whole routine would look, but I remained committed to the group (as did everyone else) and began meeting twice a week for practice.

We had custom fitted outfits to go with our first routine including bobbed wigs. We started doing dress rehearsals a few weeks ago and the first thing I noticed was that the outfit was a little big. I'd lost weight since the measurements, but it didn't look that bad. After everything was put together, I stared at myself in the walled mirror. I have NEVER shown this much leg in public. All my dresses are at or below knee length. It took me awhile to get past my image. (I have a complex about my body; an issue I've battled since I was 14 which will be saved for another post later.) One of the girls asked what was wrong. I just stated that I'm not used to showing my legs. My legs take up more than half my body and they're not stick thin. The first thing she said was, "you have great legs! You're lucky that yours taper. Nice ample thighs, strong limbs going down to a thin ankle." I never really thought of my legs that way, but it definitely changed my perception of how I viewed them.

Last night (June 2, 2013) was our debut performance in Alameda. I was super nervous; not so much about the routine but exposing my legs. I wore a long coat to cover myself before finally revealing my shape. I was incredibly surprised by the positive comments I received. Curves and hourglass were the two words I heard most to describe my shape. I never minded them much because I'd always had a smaller, cinched waist which was something I liked about myself. My posterior has always been round and firm; another plus. But my legs....I am learning to accept them more. 

The performance was an absolute success. Everyone was whooping and hollering as we danced. They especially liked our "grapevine" where we kicked out and flashed our legs. I was very nervous most of the time, but after that first performance was over, I just smiled. We had such a positive response that other promoters want to book us for future events. I am absolutely amazed. It was definitely a blast being up there with the other ladies that I'm looking forward to our future performances and additional routines.

Being a part of a Chorus girl dance troupe has not only heightened my love for swing dance, but it has helped me to be more comfortable with my body. I think, eventually, I will continue with burlesque (in addition to the chorus line). I already have a song and dance; I just need the right costume. That will come in due time. For now, it's about the chorus line. Stay tuned for additional posts, pictures and videos as they come.

Adoro Le Scarpe!

Just what the title says (ma in italiano). I love love love shoes. As my vintage wardrobe has expanded, so has my shoe collection. I've bought a few true vintage shoes, but I'm always afraid to wear them out on the dance floor, so I have relented and decided to buy reproduced pairs. However, they're not your typical repros from the mall or big box stores. They're from shoe designers who, themselves, are vintage aficionados specializing in historically accurate footwear. I've decided to buy exclusively from three shops: Re-mix Vintage, American Duchess and Aris Allen (classic footware made specially for swing dancing).

I have more shoes than the ones shared below, but these are the favorites. So as my collection grows, I will add more pics to this post for you all to fawn over. Enjoy!

The Gibson from American Duchess

The It Girl from Remix

The 23-Skidoo from American Duchess

The Picasso (top) and The Briarcliff from Remix

Treasures from Treasure Island

On the last weekend of each month, Treasure Island holds its monthly flea market where visitors can peruse the open-air spaces for antiques, collectibles, handmade products and re-purposed goods. In short, an outdoor Etsy store. Out on the lawn are food trucks selling various cuisines from breakfast to lunch. The best part; it's dog-friendly so I always have Daisy in tow. Even if I don't find anything worthwhile, it's worth the small entrance fee just  to enjoy the day and converse with my fellow SF locals.

Daisy with some goats; Shopping; Enjoying the day; Bubbles!!!

Today was another beautiful day to spend on the island. I wasn't expecting to find anything in particular; it was just a morning strolling with some friends. Yet, I DID find something. I found an antique caddy from the 1930s. Any other time, I would've just skipped over it. Considering it was a football theme (and I love football), and it was only $3, I decided to buy it.

I'll call him Joe.

So now he stands next to another caddy known for a brief scene in one of the best films of the 1990s. Can you guess which one?

May's Getaway: Pescadero, CA

May was a relatively stressful month in that the semester at SF State is coming to a close. It was a lot of presentations and projects. As a result, I neglected my weekend hiking activity to focus on my work. Thankfully that is done with; just one more semester, and I'll have earned my master's degree.Yay me! So it's back to being one with nature and searching for new trails.

If there was any a time to leave San Francisco, this was the weekend to do it. Bay to Breakers draws in a large weekend crowd, and the race itself shuts down the roadways. I wanted no part of it (maybe next year since our dance troupe is thinking of doing the race as a team). So I decided to venture south to Pescadero. Again, I took Cabrillo Highway instead of the quicker route along 280. It was the first time that I drove through the new tunnel just past Pacifica. I was hoping they'd keep the old road open for those who wanted to venture off the beaten path. Alas, it remains closed. I'll miss that meandering drive.

Before getting to town, I stopped at Pescadero State Beach and Marsh. I walked along the coastline before traversing beneath the highway and into the marsh lands. What a site it was.

It was so peaceful listening to the rustling trees, the ocean breaking along the shoreline, streams flowing along the river bed, and birds chirping in song. Along my path were a few hares hopping cautiously and lizards scurrying into bushes. Intertwined amongst the bushes are the poison ivy vines. I was extra cautious after having been infected by the plant's toxins a few months ago. Not fun. But I made it through without a scratch.

After my 2 hour journey, I drove into town. It's about a 2 mile stretch from the coastline before coming to the first (the only) stop at Pescadero. It's only a single street that takes you into its downtown. The buildings and homes are straight out of an old western film. The folks are friendly and give you a cheerful smile as you pass along the sidewalk. There were a few shoppes open for business. One lady had her vintage cooking wares on display. I asked how much she was selling them for until she said it was for show. She just wasn't ready to part with them just yet. A few doors down was the town's antique shop. Unfortunately it was closed, but I peered through the windows to find a wonderful array of old hats, clothing and housewares. 

As I continued further into town, I kept thinking about my casual walks with my grandmother in old Earlimart. It's the same country atmosphere where everyone knows each other. At the local mart was an outdoor area where people ate lunch and listened to the local musicians play a few sets. I noticed a few out of towners (like myself) visiting the area as a way of escaping from the hustle and bustle of city life.

Just outside of town is the local cemetery; St. Anthony's Catholic Cemetery. Although at one point it was known as Mt. Hope. The headstones dated back to the late 1800s. I always found old cemeteries fascinating. It's not so much a morbid curiosity as it is just an acknowledgement and appreciation of those whose lives once thrived here generations before. In a way, it's kind of a venture to the past.

As I sat and observed my surroundings, I pondered whether or not to live in this area. It's still the beach/country town that I desire. At this point I can say that my preferred domicile is between Montara and Pescadero. I definitely want to stay closer to nature and the serene qualities it offers. Some day.

Posin' (updated)

San Francisco 1996: I was aboard the 24 Divisadero line reading a short novel on my way to work when two flamboyant gay men boarded the bus, looked right at me, and beelined in my direction. They sat at a seat directly in front of mine making eye contact with me. 

"Bettie Page," he said. 

"Excuse me?" I was taken back by the matter of fact tone.

"You look just like Bettie Page," he repeated.

We continued on a short conversation until we arrived at my spot. Before departing he said, "You should go into modeling. You have a beautiful smile and great legs." I seriously thought he was pulling mine because I've always had a complex about my legs, but I smiled and said thank you.

I had worked at a corsetry shop just off Castro, and I told my colleagues of the encounter. It was as if it were a moment of clarity. "*GASP* You DO look like her!" We proceeded to do a quick photo shoot with me wearing waist cinchers and corsets. The internet was still in its infancy and the shoppe's website still needed work. My co-worker uploaded one of the photos. It was my first modeling gig.

Modeling was something of a hobby that I'd do off an on. It definitely wasn't something I'd taken seriously. After all, it wasn't a real career for me. I continued on with my studies focusing on my teaching career. Sometimes I'd model for some aspiring photographer friends just so they could build their portfolio. I never thought to ask for copies of the images. But again, it wasn't important to me.

As I became more focused on my career, the requests for doing gigs were slim; mainly because I declined. I was just too busy with work. Eventually, the stress of the job caught up with me when students (male and female alike) become to obsessed to a point where they begin stalking, harassing, and one eventually leading to an assault. 

When you're thrown into a difficult situation, you start to re-evalute your life. Yes it was a horrible experience, but sometimes bad things need to happen to good people as a wake-up call. My job was my life. I stopped doing things for myself.

A very good friend of mine asked if I wanted to do a photoshoot just to get me out of my slump. "You do so much for others. Do something nice for yourself for a change." I thought, why not? It was a nice afternoon when I got all gussied up and began posing (and hamming it up) for the camera. 

My friends loved the shots and they encouraged me to continue modeling. I simply rolled my eyes and laughed. "I'm sort of a late bloomer at this point. I'm in my 30s!" I always felt like I was too late. My age, my body; I just can't compete with all the young talent.

So I slowly got back into it. I've lost most of (and continue to slowly lose) the weight I gained with Demian.  I've definitely gained a lot more confidence, but I know my body is a continued work in progress. Though I've accepted my hourglass shape and my firm round posterior, I know where to improve. I've invested in a waist cincher to help train my waist to develop that wasp shape. My swing dancing is helping me tone my arms and legs. I underwent extensive laser treatment to remove hair from my legs, underarms, face, and yes even the Brazilian (my time in the shower has been cut in half). And after years of research and questions, I've decided to go ahead with a breast augmentation at the end of this year. No, they won't be porn star enormous. I just want to be in proportion because right now, I'm far from it.

As of late, I've been getting emails from photographers asking to work with me. One of them even paid me.  I don't expect to make a living off of modeling. (Heck, I'm still teaching, but this time at the college level which is far less stressful.) In fact, I'm doing it more for myself and entering contests. If I win, that's great. If not, no big deal. Though I did come in 3rd place for one contest. It was nice to receive some accolades. I know more photo shoots will come along the way considering that I'm an active member of a 1930s-era chorus line.

I will continue to update this post as more shoots come my way. So in the meantime, enjoy some of the shots below.

Cheers,

Rose Red

The Great Gatsby...not so great

I attended the viewing yesterday. My rating would be 2 stars out of 5. I didn't completely dislike the film, but there were definitely moments when I felt like walking out of the theatre. My pre-assessment of this film will remain along with my final in italics.

The Great Gatsby is a literary masterpiece. I've read the novel at different stages of my life; my junior year of high school, my junior year of college and as a teacher of junior and senior English. (I am currently developing a lesson plan to teach the novel at the collegiate level.) The plot is quintessential Roaring Twenties known for its jazz music, flapper culture, prohibition, and bootlegging crime syndicate. Author F. Scott Fitzgerald takes his readers on an exploration of decadence as he describes, in gaudy detail, the lifestyles of the elite and influential.

I still feel this way. No film can ever remain faithful to the novel on which its based, but I tried to go into this viewing separating the two as completely independent of each other. As such, there will be no comparisons to the novel, but a review solely on the film's merits.

So someone may think that a person who loves the novel may be excited about the upcoming 2013 film adaptation. Well, I'm not. For one, I don't usually like watching films after I've read the books on which they're based (though I did enjoy the 1974 adaptation). However, considering my love for all things vintage, I decided to give the film a shot. I'm on the list to watch the premier this Thursday, and of course I will be dressed in appropriate period attire.

Indeed I attended in period appropriate attire. I wore a true vintage day dress from 1927. It was paired with a late 20s hat (not a cloche). My hair is shoulder length which is a bit long for a bob that was popular in its day. Instead, I opted to roll up my hair at the base of my scalp and pin-curl the lose ends; typical of a 20s lady with long hair. When I attended the premier, I expected to find women donning the stereotypical attire. Yes, there were many women in beaded dresses with feathers and headbands. As if this was the only style of its day. Understandably, they were mimicking the wardrobe displayed on screen. 

I really don't like Leo DiCaprio, and I abhor the lackluster acting skills of Tobey Maguire, but I'm hoping the set direction and the make-up/wardrobe ensembles will save this picture.

I must admit that DiCaprio gave a great performance as Gatsby. He truly was into his character not just physically but emotionally. Maguire was typical Maguire; wide eyed and slack jawed. He nearly ruined the picture for me. Between Daisy and Jordan, the female leads, I felt Daisy was just too bored throughout the picture and Jordan provided the deadpan comical relief. She had some great one-liners (of course Fitzgerald provided these quips). Joel Edgerton as Tom Buchanan was ever so despicable much like his literary counterpart; a vile, racist cad. Awesome performance.

The wardrobe department obviously did their homework for men's wardrobe. I must say DiCaprio looked stunning in his attire both casual and evening. The menswear was varied to include daytime, casual, evening, and sporty. The women's wardrobe was a bit lackluster. It was as if the wardrobe coordinator bought beaded dresses off the rack and said, "here, put these on and dance."

Speaking of dancing; apparently the film's budget didn't leave room for a choreographer or even dance lessons. When Mulligan and Maguire attempted to do the Charleston, I just wanted to say, "please stop." Many of the elaborate (?) dance numbers were too modern. It was as if the local disco dance hall had a 20s dress up theme night complete with hip hop and waving hands in the air. Please. View any 20s film and you will see NO ONE danced that way. The "chorus girls" were straight out of a hip hop video gyrating their hips and mugging the camera. Bleh! 


The cinematography was horrible the first half of the film. It felt too cartoony. The best way to explain this is: think about "Who Framed Roger Rabbit" in the scene where Eddie Valiant visits toon town. The chaos and the speed of its pace were nearly identical to that of Gatsby's New York City. One of the characters was too comical to take seriously as a flapper girl. And I don't mean ha ha funny, but over the top silly. Her chartreuse hair was too plastered to create an effective Marcel wave style.


The last half of the film slowed down to focus on Gatsby's psyche and unrequited love for Daisy. At this point, the film becomes tolerable to where you can feel great empathy for the eponymous character.

Last night, as I was watching Mad Men, the newest preview aired. Imagine my horror upon hearing hip hop music as its backdrop and the names of Jay-Z, Beyoncé, will.i.am, Fergie...and blah blah blah flashed across the screen. How can someone take an era renowned for its jazz influence and insert hip hop in its place?  

And that brings up to the musical direction. I had not realized that hip-hop existed in the 1920s. I was quite sure that the decade was known as The Jazz Age. Apparently the director's rationale was to appeal to younger audiences, but what he's really selling is a lie. If the intent is to market an era to younger generations, this can be done with era appropriate music. There were some risqué tunes at its time as well as upbeat tempos. The contemporary music was too much of a distraction.

 A complete and total abomination.

Okay, so maybe not completely. The music and party/dance sequences were too over the top to enjoy, but when it came to the storyline, it was bearable. Director Baz Luhrmann has Fitzgerald to thank for that, otherwise it would just be another movie bust much like his previous films.

Exploring the backyard

Each weekend, I try to explore areas outside San Francisco. I spend most of my time in Half Moon Bay, or I'll explore other regions around Marin and Sonoma counties. Those areas make me feel at peace. I guess it's the country bumpkin blood that I inherited from my dad (after all, he is a country boy). My reasoning always boils down to my need to leave the fast paced urban/city life. Then I thought about it carefully. I'm rarely in San Francisco. I work in Silicon Valley. I spend weekends along the Peninsula. My hair appointments are in North Oakland. I shop antique/vintage fairs in Alameda. The area in San Francisco where I reside and the SF State campus couldn't be more suburban (The Sunset). My local hangout is West Portal where I always bring my visiting family; it doesn't even feel like San Francisco (which is how I like it).

This weekend I decided to stay in town. With Daisy in tow, I set out to stroll around the following areas: SoMa, Haight Street, Hayes Valley, Noe Valley, and Mission. I did my usual vintage shopping along Haight so that I could visit some of the vintage boutiques (and I don't mean those repro stores. I mean real vintage clothing). Of course, most of the clothing is severely overpriced (especially at Decades of Fashion), but I did make out with a late 1950s day dress for a relatively good price (and I got a discount). I received a text from a friend asking to meet for lunch.

We opted to hang out in Hayes Valley; some place different for a change. When we met up, I showed him my purchase. He absolutely adored it. He asked if I bought anything else along Haight. I just shouted, "I HATE shopping at brick and mortar shops. There's just no negotiating the price. I'll stick to the vintage fairs. At least I can haggle there." He just started laughing, but it was true! We walked into Ver Unica. The shop was appropriately named considering that the prices were astronomical! Completely ridiculous as most of those dresses I can find for a quarter of those prices.

Dark Garden was just around the corner, and I'd been wanting to go there for a fitting. Though I love my hourglass figure, I've always wanted a waist cincher for that wasp-waist look. I tried a few samples on and fell in love. I was warned that corsets can be quite addicting. They certainly are. I'm already thinking about getting an overbust (and possibly an underbust) later in time. But today, it was a waist cincher. I placed a custom order in the fabric and colors of my choice. It's going to be an agonizing six week wait. 

My friend and I had lunch at a random cafe. Overpriced food with an underwhelming taste. Oh well. There's just no satisfying this vegetarian. (We should've gone to Herbivore up on Divisadero.) We sat outside so that Daisy could eat along with us. We headed over to a small park, Patricia's Green, to take in the sun and let Daisy play with other dogs. So much had changed in the area. I remember back in the 90s it was a total ghetto area. Gentrification happens. The old freeway offramp is now occupied by the Hayes Valley farm. I remembered thinking, what happened to the Fell exit off 101? That was always my exit whenever I drove to USF back in the day. Now I know.

We later had an urge for frozen yogurt and settled on a hole in the wall in Noe Valley. Afterward, we perused some shabby chic shops.

We made our way back through the Mission when we decided to call it a day. I kept thinking how much I've forgotten about the wonderful places urban San Francisco has to offer. It's quite nice, but I do prefer the quieter areas where I can relax far away from the crowds. I'll still leave for Half Moon Bay eventually, but it is nice exploring San Francisco once in a while; especially on a warm, beautiful day.

San Francisco in a nutshell.

My newest vintage acquisition