Sunday, June 27, 2004

Sat July 26th recap

The Inimitable Ms B's Grand Tour of the Hottest Bay Area Shopping Spots in 20 Hours

5:30 My alarm goes off

6:30 Leaving Santa Cruz

6:45 Entering Santa Clara Co

7:18 Entering San Mateo Co

7:30 Arrive at Ms B's Swank Pad

7:45 Entering San Francisco Co

8:00 Entering Alameda Co

8:15 Somewhere in Berkeley, Ms B drops me off at what must be one of the premiere Bo-Bo rites of passage, The private Gardener wharehouse sale. I take my place in line with all of the the other elites, I feel a bit out of place with my sneakers (worn becuase I knew we would be on our feet all day) my little cord skirt (cuz it was going to be hot) and my black synthetic- fibre urban assault bag (which holds everything from art supplies to feminine supplies). As we stood in line, I had to opportunity to spy the Bo-Bos in their native habitat. They had their Eileen Fischer linen tunics, their collapsible, sun-protecting hats, their adorable infants (swaddled in nothing less than all natural fibre), their utopian, multi-racial urban-family groups. I might have even spied some grooming among the beta-females. The delicate, PC world crumbled as soon as the doors were opened at nine. The queue filed in orderly enough, but once we were in the wharehouse, they suddenly turned to the grasping, shoving, hording, hunter-gathers they truly were. I am proud to say I was able to shun the temptions of the merino wool throws, the rubberized accessories, the big antique tables, the resin furniture, and opted instead for a few pieces of stationery all for under ten bucks.

(at this point, we loose track of time)

We wander the fourth street neighborhood. I don't spend any money at the stores. (I would probably be breaking some unwritten sumptuary law).

We drive to San Pablo to go to the Erica Tanov (?) factory fabric sale. I fill my bag with the free scraps (ooh projects I will never finish). Grubbing through the boxes was a delight to the senses... the velvets, the wools, the shirting, the bits of brocade, linen.. were a pleasure for the hands, and the deep plums and earthy greens and oranges were a feast for the eyes.

We wandered down the street to a party store outlet, where I found little plastic animals (for the kids to draw). Yippee, I have had my eyes out for those for years.

On our way back to the freeway, we stopped at a few little garage sales. I got a few hats, a nifty tunic (looks to be tibetan), a blue plate for mama and I also had the pleasure of running into some art teachers. It turns out that they knew a woman that I worked with briefly a few years ago. But I couldn't remember her name, and it wasn't until we were looking at patio furniture (that Ms B hated) that I spied a piece of art by her, and her name finally came. Such a small world.

Once in Frisco, we made a bee-line for the Mission. I got two pairs of jeans, a shirt, queso fresco & fresh tortillas. We stopped at an art bar for refreshment, where I felt even more the out-of-place bumpkin. But the crostini was good.

We wandered about for hours... had front row seats for the Dyke March (gee mom, look at all those nipples), got dinner fixins, had anxiety about seeing certain members of the faculty of the Institution (what will people think!). Ms B was stopped twice by men who admired her sweater. I am not sure she will wear it again.

Then we returned to the straight havens of San Mat. cooked dinner (squash tacos with queso fresco, salsa fresca, tortillas frescas, arroz and frijoles refritos). As if that wasn't enough, we watched "somethings gotta give", cute, but not worthy of review.

1:30 Arrive at the onramp of 101.

2:30 Arrive home, followed closely by my arrival at Sleepytown.

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I blog about life and soup, but mostly soup.