An Opening Ceremony

Last Friday night I accompanied Henrique and five of my other gay boyfriends to the launch party for Opening Ceremony's collaboration with Levi's at the latter's flagship store in Union Square. Henrique's friend hooked him up with a spot +1 on the VIP guest list. He and arrived a couple of hours before the event opened up to the public. This gave us a head start on the top shelf open bar. Indeed! Our posse yacked around the store's substantial five levels, dotting from bar to bar. My secondary responsibility was to keep the dudes from all of the junk for sale.

The party later filled up with many familiar faces (smallass town). We chatted. We ate cocktail weenies. We peaced out and went to Aunt Charlie's in the TL - but not before posing for a photo for the Chronicle's Social Diary and making a noteworthy impression on the reporter with our elusive single-letter surnames.

The OCxL was a rare occasion for me (and SF too) because:

1) San Francisco doesn't have shit for fashion - as underscored by the daily sartorial choices of my neighbors.

2) The 'fashion crowd' that does exist is downtown by the art schools or up on Filmore. I frankly don't like to leave the Mission.

3) Man, who really cares about that stuff - what about the WARs, etc??!

(me! sorta! as a hobby?)

I indulge in the sometimes refreshing, often excessively self-referential fashion blogosphere. It comes down to the thoughtful references in an outfit and an appreciation costumery - tracing the coiled dynamic between street style and the runway. It's social anthropology at its most attractive angle (!!!). I complain about San Francisco's startling deemphasis on style (especially in stark contract to New York) but can't deny that this factor affords the city its inhabitable, unhurried pace. SF consumes in a different way.

Hank and Bertrand, round ∞

photo by Catherine Bigelow

I too frequently find myself here.
Note to self: UR DOIN IT WRONG (!!)

Oh Bobby!