Earlier this week, I spent the evening at a very wealthy man’s home. Not just normal wealth, I’m talking about the 1% OccupyMansion wealth. It was for a tech award ceremony and took place in his garden alongside a ballroom that is purely used as a ballroom (the square footage that would usually cost $3k for a 2 bedroom apartment in Russian Hill. Get my drift?). I was more excited to see some toys laying on the lawn (to the left of this photo – two very worn out stuffed monkeys), knowing at any moment after the ceremony, some bounding dogs would come out to play and I could then ignore the humans while I tickled Retriever and Poodle tummies. I actually did this! It freaked out a Dutch 20’something entrepreneur who'd made a few hundred million selling his company. I wasn't swooning over his riches, because I was too busy playing with the dogs who, by the way, stank & seriously needed Febreezing.
I also heard this weekend’s going to be a scorcher according to weather.com – so that means it may or may not be because weather forecasters are the only people on the planet who constantly do their job wrong and never ever get fired for it. If anyone else made so many daily mistakes, they’d be out of a profession faster than you can say ‘claim unemployment.’
Ok, rant over and back to the topic at hand. So what I am suggesting this weekend is either A: get outta town and get lost. i.e. drive around the south bay to check out gorgeous homes, all around the peninsula and maybe a cocktail at the Ritz Carlton (Half Moon Bay). Be the type of gal in a commercial who wears a floral dress, floppy hat, coral colored heels and speaks in a really high girly voice (the type that gals in mani/pedi boutiques excel at). Have a Glamor, Cosmo, Elle magazine day out and live it up large up and down the 280. OR….lets big it up for Plan B:
Its Pride weekend and over 1million LGBT movers & shakers will be living it even larger. Get ready for the largest Pride in the country, hitting City Hall, up and down Market Street the whole way from Embarcadero to Castro…and then back down Haight Street when you realize you lost your 8inch heel boot that were ‘totally’ designed for Pride and had sparkles that you paid $50 a gem for. And your 2ft hair extension just got tangled in a head-dress by a YMCA lurver. Oh dear!
This is the maddest festival on the globe (apart from Bay 2 Breakers – which says a lot about San Francisco and festivals). Be ready to see leather meet feather, velvet meet iron helmet and stark-naked meets maybe a strategically placed sock on it. Expect to get a henna tattoo where the sun don’t shine, hug it out with a real cowboy who just got out the closet and latch onto a bunch of 18 year old cuties who will wear hers & hers underwear’less chaps with just a couple of strategically placed tassels over their chest alongside triple false eye lashes with peacock feathers.
Yep, it’s a rainbow frenzy of high maintenance boys with their sugar daddies on a float showing their buns of steel while the older men and women folk nearly pass out because they’ve not eaten for 3 weeks, just so they look svelte and thin for Pride.
It’s the 42nd Annual Pride, with 200 parade contingents, 300 exhibitors, more than 20 stages and venues with Sarah Silverman as Grand Marshall – don’t expect a tea party and polite banter. This will be loud, crass, insane fun and if you remember any of it past 7pm on day one aka Saturday, you’ve miserably failed at having a good time!
So which are you this weekend? The checking out the larger than life 1% down south or bigging it up larger than life at Pride?