There's a great store called The Magazine in the Tenderloin on Larkin St a few blocks from city hall and the library. Conrad and all the students in Keith Boadwee's class told me about it. It's primarily a used porn store-- I know, potentially sketchy, but it was actually sort of lovely. I met up with Michele who was doing research for a new book project she's working on of pop-up porn. We walked in and the owners were all of these 50-year old moustached and smily gentlemen-- they sort of looked like they could have been in a barbershop quartet. The store was small and cramped with high ceilings and these beautiful tall wooden bookshelves and those fun sliding ladders. I was told that they had a lot of old photographs-- boxes and boxes for cheap. The ones pictured here are just a few I went home with.
To get to the store I had to walk through the Loooooooove Fest. Michele used the right word for it: a spectacle. Picture thousands of 20-year old white ravers in downtown SF. Horrifying and fascinating. I mean, really, I could write on and on about it because it was a total sensory overload-- similar to the head spin I was left in last weekend at the Folsom Street Fair, except instead of thousands of teenagers in fairy/furry/flourescent costumes it was thousands of hairy older men in black leather. Michele and I split a horrible apple fritter from a Chinese cafe on 9th and talked for a long time about being new to such a ridiculous city. It was a great day after hanging out with Emily last night, having breakfast with Georgia and finishing a huge drawing of 135 combs.