Sam and I went to our favorite sandwich shop today - a place in the Marina, called The Sandwich Spot. While we ate our sandwiches, I watched people out the window - I do a lot of people watching, and San Francisco is a great place to do it.
And I love the way people dress in San Francisco.
There are people who dress like punks and goths and hippies and skaters and all kinds of other things, and some of them seem to dress that way to communicate an identity, a group membership, and some of them seem to dress that way just because it's how they prefer to present themselves.
There are people who dress in sweatshirts and jeans and tennis shoes, and don't seem to much care about what their clothes say, and that's good, too.
There are people who match unexpected textures and subtle colors and you know that nothing touching their bodies could be an accident, but only if you bother to think about it at all.
There are people in tank tops who walk by people in parkas and they both seem a little crazy until you realize that the air here is warm to some and cool to others.
There are people in sensible shoes and people who climb hills in stiletto heels, and you realize their feet are basically flat between the heel and the hill.
There are people who wear t-shirts with jokes that laugh with you instead of at you, and they're nerdy and ridiculous and that too is a way to communicate an identity and group membership.
There are people who wear leather every day of the year even if it's uncomfortable.
There are people who dress as elaborate dolls, with layers of lace and porcelain makeup and parasols and knee socks with ribbons.
There are kids in hats with ears, like pandas and cats and puppies, and there are adults too, who look like they're enjoying being adults, adults with ears.
And my blinders may be on, but the best thing about all of them is I've almost never seen anyone here look down on someone else for how they dress.
