Tunic: H&M. Vest: Gap (again here). Boots: Sam Edelman. CA Necklace: Unpossible Cuts.
Well, I may be wearing my heart on my chest instead of my sleeve, but I’m certainly showing you where my love lies via layered necklaces. I found my California necklace when visiting the fantastically odd craft fair that I mentioned in my holiday post. The fair is such a blast, even if you don’t purchase anything, which is pretty much impossible if you love unique, locally-made jewelry like I do.
This was the first year that I stopped by Unpossible Cuts and chatted with the friendly gentlemen who was manning the booth. I can at least claim that I stopped for selfless reasons- I was on the hunt for a gift for Allyson, and I spotted a Death Star wood-cut necklace. (She, in full BFF ESP, gave me the top necklace in the photo below). But while I was getting ready to check out, I spied my perfect necklace match in its full “I LOVE SAN FRANCISCO SO MUCH” glory. It’s been on heavy rotation ever since.
So, we arrive at my reasoning for my corny post title! Even though it’s a cliche, my heart really is here. A piece of it will always live back in Minnesota, just as pieces of it belong in Colorado Springs, Chicago, and India. It’s so crazy to think about all the places I’ve lived and loved, even though my list is certainly shorter than many. So, it feels fitting that I’ve come full circle back to the place I was born.
Now, to dispel this sappy mood, please sing with me. I left my heaaaaaaart…. in Saaaaaaan Franciiiiiiiiscooooo…
When I was in Girl Scouts, our troop had the chance to go down into an old Northern Minnesota mine. Now, this crazy little girl would have happily plunged head-first into the Pacific Ocean or dashed off into the woods, but you could not have gotten me into that mine even if Nick Carter was down there (my favorite of the Backstreet Boys, for those of you not born between 1983 and 1992).
Even now, you can’t get me into a small, confined space for love or money. When my friend Allyson mentioned that we could go into the cellar cave at a winery she used to work for, I’m pretty sure my facial expression was somewhere between a frightened guinea pig and a cat who just received an involuntary bath.
But fortunately, caves have gotten a wee bit more fun since I’ve reached the drinking age. The caves at Pine Ridge Cellars are more intriguing than intimidating, and there’s not a bat in sight. The barrels of wine are aged in here to maintain a cool, dark environment, and the space is also pretty conducive to cool parties. They also make one a bit goofy and attempt to recreate American Gothic (see above).
Once we traveled back up into the scorching sun, I found myself a bit wistful for the quiet and peaceful cave. Score one for grown-up Sarah; score zero for childhood fears.
H&M tunic (surprise!), Urban Outfitters chambray shirt, Maison Scotch bow tie, Cole Haan boots
I’m a woman who loves a challenge, and trying to find something cute to wear that’s appropriate for a 10-mile urban hike is a hell of a challenge. If I’m going jogging, I’ll set vanity aside and opt for practical workout clothes, but a long Sunday walk calls for something a little more fun. I usually reach for layers, leggings, and my favorite pair of flat boots that have seen more miles than my running shoes.
As a part of our “we’re real grownups living well, I promise!” New Year’s resolutions, Jim and I have started taking long walks on Sundays. They’re partly for exercise and mostly for fun as we traverse the width of the city and explore little shops as we go. This particular walk circled around to Fort Mason, the gorgeous waterfront area that houses everything from my favorite restaurant to youth performance spaces.
With a view of Alcatraz and the smell of bakery buns wafting in from a little cafe, it’s the perfect spot to sit a spell and take it all in.