If Edgar Allan Poe Were a Cowboy…


Fortunately I’m talking about the bar, not my outfit (although hey, never say never). Bloodhound in SOMA is the kind of bar where the drinks are strong, the mason jars are full, and the crows than hang from the ceiling are only slightly creepy. Basically, it’s the kind of place where a girl feels comfortable tying up the tails of her flannel shirt and watching the world go by.

For the first year of San Francisco life, I was a bit intimidated by SOMA. No, if I’m being honest, I straight-up avoided it like I avoid steakhouses and the annual tarantula festival down the coast. The flat storefronts and industrial feel reminded me of Gotham City- the version before Batman did his thing. After a year of total avoidance, I’ve admitted that if there’s a fashion show happening or awesome new dance club opening, it’s probably in SOMA.

SOMA feels different than any other part of San Francisco, but that’s what keeps it unique. It’s one of the fastest-growing areas of San Francisco and teems with a sense of change. There’s a life and a vibrancy to the neighborhood that feels like it’s on a different frequency than the rest of the city. It’s a little unfamiliar, it’s a little alienating, but hopping on the bus and getting out in SOMA feels like I somehow landed in an entirely different city.

SOMA and I may have had an awkward first date, but sometimes the best relationships get off to a bumpy start.





Sarah Lee

Pixie-haired SF fashion/personal style blogger and freelance writer in love with polka dots, IPAs, and zombie movies. Urban hiking enthusiast by weekend.