Thursday, March 31, 2011


Stay tuned for Dealbreakers part II (for him).  Watch out ladies...

Girls (ahem, moi) nibbling on house plants? DEALBREAKER...

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

I think there's something going on between Cecile and her music teacher.

I am in the midst of doing reseach for my dealbreaker entry which will take a day or two as you can imagine, so please stay tuned.  Also, feel free to e-mail me with any dealbreakers you've encountered or committed in the dating world.  My Dealbreaker TPSF team (and by team I just mean me and Kristal) and I are swamped with material just based on our own experiences, but we will gladly include yours if they're witty enough.  E-mail (yes, you worms I am aware that the g is dropped in my name- which is ironic because boys dropping the G is one of our top dealbreakers- You're goin' runnin' and then nappin'?  REALLY. stop.)

Also, for all you SF folks, be sure to attend the 2 trunkshows happening tomorrow in support of my friends Francesca Fay and Camilla K Bradley. 

Come to la casa de Fay for Rikshaw Design's fabulous trunk show!

After FF's show come to Perry's for CKB's trunk show!
Ok, I'm off- gotta get back to facebooking and gchatting.
Happy Hump day! xo, Nige

Monday, March 28, 2011

It was an experiment. It went awry.

Do Pick: Joseph Cozza Salon 
Don’t pick: The Keratin treatment.

me at Bay to Breakers last year
In response to Wilhelmina’s warm and I must say very accurate biography of me, I will elaborate on my hair straightening fixation.  I straighten my hair not only to benefit myself but also the general public (mainly small children).  Oh how I wish I was blessed with flowy, shiny, glorious Giselle-like waves that I don't have to bother with but unfortunately I was jipped.  It’s as simple as this: if let my hair air dry it ends up resembling Ronald McDonalds fro.  My bangs in particular have caused me the most hurt.  (sidenote: my “layered bangs” are not by choice, I am not having trouble letting go of “the Rachel” so please stop inquiring about them.)  In college, I frequently enlisted Sarah to blow-dry my hair. She would embrace the challenge much like a soldier would a battle armed with a double barrel hair dryer, anti-frizz serum, 2 round brushes and a paddle brush.  In the end, she got tennis elbow and had to retire her post.  Point of the story: I need a blowdryer and straightener like Wilhelmina needs spellcheck. 
About two weeks ago I got the solution to my problem, or so I thought.  I made my way down California Street through heavy San Francisco fog (which does The Fro no favors) to the Joseph Cozza Salon.  I had been looking forward to this appointment mainly because my hair hadn’t been cut in 6 months (each hair had six ends) and I desperately needed highlights.  Mostly, I was excited to see Jeremy, my hairdresser who I adore and know everything about.   We have covered everything: from his disastrous break up with his boyfriend who “insisted on keeping their mini yorkie Tabitha” to his mother’s obsession with psychics.  I entered the salon and checked in.  Much to my disappointment, Jeremy had quit two days before my visit.  They informed me that they had left me a VM but seriously, who leaves VM’s these days and more importantly, who checks VM?  Not I. 
Chi you later you worm!
Enter Stefano.  An attractive, flamboyant lamb of a man, Stefano buzzed around the corner and leapt  toward me like a rabid baby kangaroo, introducing himself and explaining he was Jeremy's replacement. My temporary depression over missing Jeremy and his stories ceased, I liked Stefano. He began doing my hair and right away we started talking about my straightening obsession.  “Oh honey, he said, give your tresses a break! Your Chi is going to destroy your hair.”  This is like someone telling you that smoking is bad for you.  I knew the straightener was bad, but it's an addiction.  Enter the Keratin treatment: a healthy, magical straightening potion that’s good for your hair (unlike Japanese straightening).  We talked price--$450 smackers.  Ok, so my hair would be straight, but I wouldn’t be able to eat.  I griped about the price and I told him I couldn’t swing it: San Francisco is expensive enough as it is.  Then he told me he had yet to administer the magical straightening potion to a client and was just "bursting" with anticipation.  “You can be my model!  You can be my first test!”  I contemplated for a few minutes and made a mental pros and cons list.  Pros: 1) a $450 procedure for free 2) how badly could he F up, he works at the nicest salon in SF 3) this could, in Stefano's words “change my life" 4) time saved getting ready for work equals extra sleep time! Okay the big CON: he could totally F up my hair and there wouldn’t be a damn thing I could do about it for 2 months.  It was a big con but whatever. I was SOLD.   Stefano gleefully jumped up and down and we made an appointment for the following week. 
Over the next 7 days I was so stoked about my upcoming hair straightening procedure you’d think I’d just won free unlimited texting for the rest of my life.  That week seemed like an entire month.   Finally, it was the day.  After waiting for about 20 minutes, Stefano emerged to retrieve me. This time he was much more serious. Immersed in a riveting cosmo article entitled "How to unlock his Emotions" I looked up and was shocked  to see Stefano "the Scientist" sporting a long apron like getup and rubber gloves.    As I registered my flashbacks from 8th grade biology, I gripped my reality; I was Stefano’s guinea pig.  First, he requested silence. Then he pulled out his instruction manual and began reading.   He literally read each step aloud, as he cautiously administered this magic. My mounting anxiety forced me into a state of delirium and finally 3 hours later he finished.  It was straight.  Straighter than Tom Cruise, Jake Gyllenhaal and John Travolta wish they were.  “Now, it’s going to be flat for a couple days, honey.” Stefano warned.  I gave him a nice tip and jetted out of the salon, eager to show off my straighter than straight hair.  I got a couple “Wow!  It’s really effing straight” and “Woah, what did you do to your hair?”  it was then that I realized I had taken my obsession with straight hair to the extreme: letting a complete stranger who had no experience in this field apply a 2 month-permanent mystery potion to my tresses?  Jesus. Am I really trusting or really desperate?
i do not know who this is.
but she depicts how i feel. you go gurrrrl.
About a week has passed and I am growing more and more angry with myself for doing this to my mane.  My hair looks ten times thinner, and like I slept in a plate of greasy french fries.  I never thought I’d say this--I miss the Mullet Fro.   
Moral of the story:  It’s ok to look like Ronald McDonald. He is a very likable fellow. 

Also, things could be worse.  I could be a pigeon.

Ok, now I’m going to sit back and wait for an angry call from my mother (who always yells at me for doing things to my hair.)
So sorry Momsie. xo, Nige

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Egg Roll Anyone?

Well I thought I should make my debut.  Up to this point and probably for the most part after this post, Alexandra has been/ and will be responsible for all the words.  I just thought for those of you who have not had the privilege of spending hours on end with this rare bird you might appreciate a few incites to her character.
1.     Alexandra only likes to respond to people calling her--Alexandra.   She will however respond with unbounded enthusiasm to friends who butcher her name, but on the inside she is hissing and throwing lemons at you. 
2.     On the other hand, if Alexandra actually calls you by your real name then you must be a really good friend or you have something on your person that she really wants.   For all the rest of you she will undoubtedly refer to you by one of the following: Tomathon (an easy meld of the names Thomas and Jonathon), Gwendolyn, Lynos, Nigel, Ronald, or of course reserved for the most distant and yet close of friends Fortesque.  The most shocking is when we dine out and she calls the waiter Lynos.  Most of the time waiters play along and take her order with a confused grin.  It is seldom that the waiter will correct her, but I have yet to see her actually call a waiter by his real name.  
3.     Alexandra cannot DEAL.  This is most obvious in the mornings when she goes to shower and there is no hot water.  She blows up at the shower as if the shower where telling her that it is with holding hot water from her and only her.  Usually these fights with the shower end with a door slam and “I DON”T HAVE TIME FOR THIS” ringing thru out the house.  However, I have never see Alexandra leave the house without showering, so in the end when it comes to clean hair she always finds a way to deal. 
Perfect Hair
4.     Clean, board straight hair is a priority for Al.  I did not live with Al at Ole Miss, but I hear she has made great strides in her fixation with her hair straightener.  Getting her friends to hide it for her controls Al’s relationship with her Chi. It is disturbing and funny when she comes into my room in full disclosure mode and asks me to promise not to throw it away, but to please hide it from her for a month.  I am a sucker and I usually cave after she begs for it back.  My weakness forces her to have to resort to asking a non-roommate Krystal to hide it off premises. 
5.     Hiding things is Alexandra’s solution to controlling most of her fixations.  Her texting fixation I thought would be the exception, she would NEVER hide her phone.  I was beyond impressed when she arrived in my room delicately holding a spoon and in it was the little ball from her Blackberry Pearl.  “ WILL YOU HIDE THIS FOR ME I REALLY DO NOT WANT TO TEXT TONIGHT.”  Texting stopped abruptly and the inbox filled (I have seen it go as high as 52 unread texts).  In desperation, she realized that she could convince people to lend her their ball so randomly I would receive a text from her with updates.  It was a sad day when Verizon discontinued the Pearl, but it was worse watching Alexandra try and reason with the Verizon salesperson that he had to give her a phone with a removable ball.   ALSO if she texts you at night it is only b/c she is bored and she see’s the little red star indicating new mail in her SMS inbox as a great surprise. 
6.     Other surprises/things she likes: the adventure of discovering the treasures inside an Egg Roll, the thrill of an unopened can of Whip Cream, a viewing of any Bravo show that she has not already seen, the release of a new Life Time movie especially if it is an expose on a serial killer or any murder (She has watched the Amanda Knox story 6 times), she is fascinated by serial killers.   This started with the OJ trial.  She can recite verbatim every transcript of the trial.  
7.     If fact she has the most remarkable memory.  Frequently, Alexandra embarks on 10 to 20 minute monologues from movies like: Steal Magnolias, Clueless, What about Bob, Planes Trains and Automobiles, Friday, and of course her most famous impression Ace Ventura Pet Detective.  Often I turn into a stage mom and try and get her to perform on demand (she will never do it).  
Me flying MAC Bunting
8.     The best part of Alexandra is her relationship with her family including her dogs and horses.  They are all so close that I often find myself pretending that I too am a Bunting so that I can get in on the vibe.  I have calculated that my only way in is hoping that one day Mac her 4-year-old nephew will want a really old wife.  I feel that the Bunting humor originates from Diana, her mother; I never miss an opportunity to steal the phone from Al when she calls.  
9.     Alexandra and Boys are like oil and water, but when you mix it up it makes for a great sauce.   She always accepts a date; she NEVER goes.  The only exceptions are the Bachelor (who did take her out) and Magruber (who she is in a long distance “text only” relationship with).  The times he has called she refuses to answer b/c she prefers the intimacy of a text.  I can attest that the texting has been going strong for 8 months.  However, she is not a monogamous texter, so feel free to throw your hat in the ring. 
10. She likes to interview people.  She thinks it makes people feel famous when they are being interviewed regardless of the situation.  Often the interviewee does not even realize her journalistic intentions like the homeless man outside of the Grocery Store.  Note to selves: if Alexandra is asking you a lot of questions about your self then you are in the midst of an interview.  If she is nodding responsively and chiming in with the occasional “WEIRD, TOTALLY, COOL…” then she is not listening to your response and is probably thinking about egg rolls. 
11. Favorite Alexandra quotes: Alexandra almost always gets her way, but if not she reply’s with: “LETS DO ALL THE THINGS THAT YOU WANT TO DO.”   If Alexandra wants something she usually opens with “DO YOU HAVE ANY ______ ON YOUR PERSON?”  If I come home with something new: “ MUST BE NICE.”  She only keeps very important secrets. Usually, in front of you, she will embarrass you and turn casually back to you and say: “THAT WAS AWKWARD.” If you ever ask her a question she will respond: “BEND OVER AND I WILL SHOW YOU.” (She is very proud of the last one bc it always works with a question)  Last but not least: “THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID” (throw that in any where in a convo and it will usually shift the sentiment)

I spent far too much time on this than I anticipated, but I just wanted you to know who you were dealing with … xoxo W

MMM, Faye this is delicious

I felt like Bob Wiley last night at dinner thanks to the amazing food at Baretta, a fabulous Italian restaurant in the Mission (near Delores park). Seriously I could not stop mmm-ing throughout the entire meal. This place even topped Delfina's.  The ambiance is perfect: not too small but not too big, dimly lit with a rustic-yet-chic feel and there is a cute heated outside patio where you can sip your cocktail while waiting to be seated... which brings me to their cocktails.  I indulged in the Kentucky Mule which consists of ginger, bourbon, lime and mint.  It was not too sweet, not too strong and reminded me of Ole Miss.  They make at least 15 other specialty cocktails and with each drink purchased, a dollar is donated to Japan.  So, you catch a little buzz and help out a good cause so it's kind of like everybody wins.
              The meal was unreal.  We feasted on the meatballs and the Margherita pizza with burrata (which is, in case you are like me and have no clue what the eff burrata is, basically the more sophisticated, creamier second cousin of mozzarella. And to delve even further into the cheese family tree to give you a better idea, Velveeta would be the bastard red-headed stepchild of burrata).  The highlight of the evening was the dessert.  Order the the panna gelato with extra virgin olive oil & sea salt.  Do it.  Being someone who has always loved the salty and sweet combo (I used to put buttered popcorn in my hot chocolate as a kid) I was blown away by this gelato.  And it's big enough for two so you can split it and not feel like a total heffer.

               So run, don't walk to Baretta.  I promise you you will not be disappointed.  Ok- I'm off to the Britney Spears concert!!! Happy day of rest.  xo, Nige

"Chicks, man."
-Joel McHale

Saturday, March 26, 2011

Awkward post of the day xoxo W

Happy Saturday from Awkward Adolescent Alexandra and Rod the Bod!!!

You stop it right meow!

It's rain season here in SF and I have to admit, I am growing quite fond of it.  The rain has given me an excuse to lie in bed all day today and watch each season of Modern Family on Hulu.  Of course, there are other things I could be doing. My roommates certainly aren't letting the rain stop them from being active and productive.  Annie is at the DeYoung Museum, Wilhelmina is at a yoga class and Shelley is fly fishing.  That's right folks, my dear friend Shelley is, as we speak, fly fishing.  Out of all my friends out here, Shelley is the one who takes full advantage of random activities in the Bay area. She's taken one on one creative writing classes, learned how to salsa, joined an indoor soccer league, embraced chanting classes, learned how to kite, and now she is... fly fishing. There is nothing more appropriate for our dear Shellyathon.  Her affinity for random activities pales in comparison to the bizarre events she is confronted by on a monthly basis. March's event certainly took the cat errr I mean cake.
           This unfortunate catastrophe all began last Saturday evening.  Shelley and I were the only ones in the house.  It was pouring rain of course so we decided to stay in and do laundry (who am i kidding, she did laundry, I watched)  At about 10 pm we decided to turn in.  Shelley bid me good night and headed up to her tower.  Her room is on the third floor of the house and is probably my favorite part of our place(lie).  Her little penthouse boasts an outdoor shower and an amazing roof deck overlooking the city.  Apparently the roof offers a way for creatures to climb into her window and unfortunately she learned this the hard way on this fateful night. It was about 3 am and I was deep in slumber, dreaming about Haribo gummi bears and the guy from Country Strong when my phone rang.  Figuring it was my dear friend Kristal drunk dialing me I hit ignore without even looking. (It happens so often I have developed an automatic reflex. love you KLR).  Alas, it began ringing again.  I huffed and I puffed and muttered a four letter word but decided to see who it was.  It was Shelley. "What??!" I yelled. (take note: do not wake me up. ever. unless you want me to not speak to you for a day).  Shelley's shaky voice screamed:"Oh my god, Bunting!!! (another note: Please don't call me Bunting unless you want me to put a hair in your food) There is a effing feral cat in my room!"  Confused, out of it and wanting to go back to dreaming about gummi bears and Garrett whats his face from Country Strong, I advised her to go sleep in Wilhelmina's room.  I went back to sleep and back to dreaming, but the dream became of Garrett what's his face and a feral cat munching on Haribo gummi bears. (sorry, that's besides the point.)
           It was when I woke up that morning that I learned of the whole story.  Shelley had awoken to a sharp hissing sound in the middle of the night.  She opened her eyes and there stood a black 60 pound feral cat at the foot of her bed.  She screamed and scared the sh*t out of it. Literally. The cat defecated all over Shelley's bed, leaped onto her dresser, knocking over all her photos and finally scurried into her closet.  Equally disoriented, Shelley slammed her closet door, called me and ran downstairs, leaving the cat in her closet overnight.  Luckily our ballsy neighbor volunteered to get the cat out with a broom the next morning.  He said it was the thickest meanest cat he had ever come across and it took him about 40 minutes to get him/ her out. 
Moral of the story: if you don't have screens on your windows then close them unless you want a rabid version of Felix the Cat to set up shop in your bed. 

Sidenote: Rosa, our dramatic housekeeper apparently comes complete with extremely active gag reflexes.  She cleaned Shelley's room after the incident and ended up puking in her mop bucket.  Moral of the story: cleaning up cat feces can make you vomit. Get a litter box.

Ok, the sun is out. I'm going to go running on Crissy field.  After the next five episodes of Modern Family, of course. 

Before I sign off I will leave you with the most chafe-y quote of the day.  It was said by my co-editor W Hudson and it chafed me.  (Chafe is my favorite descriptive word, btw and you will see it a lot in ToePickSF.  It can be applied to so many things: "Ugh they forgot to put avocado on my sandwich, what a chafe." OR "That girl who constantly steals my parking spot is such a chafe...") Anyway, here's the quote.

Me (this morning) : "Ugh. I'm a little bit hungover this morning."
Wilhelmina (as she heads out the door for yoga): "I'm not.  I didn't have anything extra to drink last night and I went to bed on time." CHAFE.

Hope everyone is having a great, chafe-free weekend! xo, Nige

                              Sherrey thinks the cat who broke into her room is a Loser. 

Thursday, March 24, 2011


Hi.  I'm Alexandra.  Many of you may also know me as Nigel.  Or I may know you as Nigel.  Whatever. I was fortunate enough to move to San Francisco nearly two and a half years ago.  Despite mixed reactions from friends (if I had a nickel for every time I was asked "Aren't there a lot of gay dudes there?" then I would be making money in a very strange way), making the cross country trek to this spectacularly unique and quirky city has been the best decision I've ever made.  Having been immersed in the South for most of the 9 years of my life prior to moving to SF, I knew I was in for a change.  And I was right.  Oxford, Mississippi it is not.  Luckily, I moved out here around the same time as some of my oldest friends.  We all set up shop together in the Citaaay by the Bay.  Despite the pit falls of being far away from friends and family, living here has been awesome and my Toe Pick co-creator Wilhelmina and I are psyched to share with you all some our favorite things about living in San Francisco. I will end my intro with perhaps the thing I love most about living here: No matter where I go and what I wear or say in this city, there is always someone weirder, and more outlandishly awkward than yours truly.  This has been an ultimate source of comfort for me, and one that I had not really encountered before.  Hope you enjoy our insights. xo, Nige

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Farewell, BVE

The worldly residents of Buena Vista East (BVE) will soon be bidding farewell to the incredible pad we've been spoiled by for the past 2 years.  The privilege of living with childhood friends in a beautiful Victorian house overlooking the city of San Francisco has, needless to say, been too good to be true but it will all be coming to a screeching halt when the calendar strikes June 1st. Our resolve to take full advantage of our remaining weeks at BVE is officially in effect.  After all, our new place (yet TBD) will surely not boast the amenities afforded to us by BVE, including the beloved BVE park across the street which is, to put it delicately beautifully picturesque and serene by day and unapproachably creepy (i.e. wrought with male prostitutes) by night.  We may have not behaved like adults in our truly adult house and the night of April 1st will be no exception.  We are hosting one last kick off party to commemorate a truly dazzling life in the Haight.  We'd like to share with you our thoughts on party planning including party themes that we have used to ensure a truly FUN party.

Tips & Chips:
First off, make sure you have one guest who knows how to cook and is willing to do it for you. The bath tub makes an excellent beer cooler and you can even add food coloring in the water for an extra kick. Just make sure the drain isn't clogged with any inconspicuous hairs. (if the bath tub isn't an option go ahead and spring for the toilet. juuust kidding.)

No Butts Allowed:
Lets face it folks, most of our friends are "social" smokers so we must encourage party patrons to minimize their butts.  This reminds us of our teenage summers when Diana Bunting AKA Lady Di (who, we can assure you is no princess when she enters her garden at 7am only to stumble upon countless P-Funk stubs spewed on her hydrangeas by her children and their delinquent pals) would tally the number of butts she found by entering the total number on the dry erase board adorning the fridge.  It sure was humbling going to fetch some Sunny D from the fridge and being confronted by a dry erase board tagged with a giant 64. Here is our point: There is nothing worse than being hungover and having to pick up cigarette butts.  Provide some form of ash tray so as to encourage your alcoholic friends to dispose of their fags.  No worries if you can't spring for an actual ash tray, Toe Pick has compiled a list of just as effective cigarette disposals:
-bedazzle the top to an Aerosol can for a fun, flirty twist
-Always hated those Crocs your roommate/boyfriend sports?  Line the insides with foil and Viola! You've got an outdoorsy ash tray with great ventilation to boot.
-Annoyed by uninvited female party crashers?  Secretly designate her Longchamp as a butt collector; it will provide ample room for dozens of butts.