By Michelle Broder Van Dyke

Maasai Warrior Sabore Ole Oiye, aka "Baby Giraffe" at Grace Cathedral on Sept. 27, with little giraffes

To see from other people’s perspectives, and to genuinely remember (or realize) that not everyone’s lives is yours, is a gift; or so says the late David Foster Wallace in a commencement speech I read the other day on the Guardian's Promosexual blog, recited originally in 2005. Wallace stated that we should strive to see from other people’s perspectives, remember that we are not the center of the universe and that, in fact, other people have bad days, too. So, don’t feel so sorry for yourself. Or at least something to that effect is proclaimed by Wallace, but at greater length, with more subtlety and much more eloquence. As Wallace puts it: “I can choose to force myself to consider the likelihood that everyone else in the supermarket's checkout line is just as bored and frustrated as I am, and that some of these people probably have harder, more tedious and painful lives than I do.”

Sometimes, though, you are adjacent to a world that is so different from the one that you’re familiar with that you don’t have to choose to remember that you are not the center of the universe, because the truth of the matter is staring you in the face. Instead, the importance becomes less remembering that you are not the center, but having to come to terms with and decide what you are going to do with this knowledge. Wallace offers an option, which seems still fitting for my own experience: “The really important kind of freedom involves attention and awareness and discipline, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them over and over in myriad petty, unsexy ways every day.”

Maasai Warrior Sabore Ole Oiye, nicknamed “baby giraffe,” towered above me at the Maasai Warrior Training at the Grace Cathedral a couple Saturdays ago, stating calmly, without even a slight smile in his eye, that he has killed two lions in his lifetime. Lifting his two-sided spear, Sabore explained that the blunt side is for throwing; the lion will first need to be declared TKO. The other side is razor-sharp, and ready to spear the lion. The Maasai warriors wear the mane of the lion home, and slide the tail over the sharp-end of the spear as they heroically return to their village.

New Maasai warriors are trained for six to eight years in “the bush,” the all-encompassing term that refers to the wild wilderness of Kenya, which surrounds their village. The warriors learn how to slay lions, which in a polygamous patriarchal society that measures worth in manes and cattle, is extremely important. A woman in the audience asked: “What reasons make you kill lions?” To which Sabore explained, “The main reason is to show that you are brave. And then your friends will say, ‘come and marry my sister.’” They also learn, based on the ancient ways of the nomadic Maasai, basic survival skills – how to protect themselves from wild animals and how to live off of the land.

By Michelle Broder Van Dyke

Descending from the Muni 29, looking out over the water and running my gaze across Baker Beach, I tried to spot the Nude Beach Olympics. But tucked away in the North End the au natural forms of the competitors remained elusive.

Walking along the shoreline, I began to zoom-in, finally spotting the events at the far end of the beach. There, the broad jump was under way. It is as glorious as you might imagine—with predominantly males participating, I witnessed the quick running, the leaping, and the hard fall into the dark, mottled sand, which seemed a lot less graceful while bare. In the act of falling, there seemed to be a moment’s hesitation while each participant debated whether to land hard in the sand or to try to stop the fall with a hand. The latter being more challenging, most men took the hard fall and then stood up, bums covered in grainy sand, but entirely unfettered.

The event was full of pubes, both shaved and unshaved, in a full color spectrum from gray to red, and it featured men and women of all body types and levels of athleticism. This, the first Nude Olympics at Baker Beach, resulted in a tie for first place: Rocky and Michael were crowned with olive-branch wreathes, following the traditions of the ancient Greek Olympics. George Davis, who had organized the Nude Beach Olympics I, explained: “The original Olympics, in Greece, were all done nude.”

Those ancient Olympics were the inspiration for the mini-version held at Baker Beach. The practice of exercising in the nude began in the seventh century B.C.E. It is believed that the custom began in Sparta, and, although various theories have been advanced, most assume that the main reason for this practice was the eroticism of the male body.

Rocky the Olympian. Photos by Lisa Weiss

Rocky, who was adorned with a hand-painted silver and red mask much like the Legion of Doom, won both the Greco-wrestling and the sumo-wrestling competitions.

(After the jump: NSFW pics)

Photos and text by Ariel Soto

Edgy, non-traditional and dramatic models made their way down the catwalk Saturday night at the Yerba Buena Center of the Arts Bay Area Independent Craft & Couture Runway show. There was no lack of creative and unique designs, all of which seemed to stem from the free and colorful spirit of San Francisco. The fashion presented, which featured local designers who focus on creating sustainable clothing and stick by green business practices, featured designers from R.A.G. Co-op, Hellyn Teng Mersereau, Sarah Zins, Rehema Bah, and Erin Mahoney.

By Justin Juul

Jill Herrera (Switchblade), Valerie Hurysz (Death Valley), and Erin Dougherty (Venom Miss) of SFC Double Dutch can do The Ludicrous, The Donkey Kong, and The Turducken all without breaking a sweat. Never heard of these tricks before? Don’t worry, after a six-week course at SFC, your vocabulary will be full of weird slang and you’ll be pushin’ more rope than an exhausted porn star. The Guardian caught up with The SFC Girls recently to find out what happens when journalists stop staring at their computers and start gettin’ down.

SFBG: So what’s your deal?

Switchblade: We are Switchblade, Death Valley, and Venom Miss, Otherwise known as SFC Double Dutch. We jump rope, perform, and teach classes in the Bay Area.

SFBG: How did you get into the Double Dutch thing? I mean, is there a scene? Do you battle other Double Dutch crews and stuff? Or did you sort of just pick the jump rope thing randomly?

Switchblade: We met in the summer of 2002 and we wanted something physical to do with our friends. We just sort of landed on this, really. As far as a scene goes, there’s not really a battle scene like you find in break dancing. The Double Dutch community is really organized and clean and it’s not what you imagine when you think of old New York street-style stuff.

SFBG: But that’s kind of what you guys are all about, right, the street stuff? Are you the first people take that sort of old-school New York aesthetic and apply it to your group?

By Michelle Broder Van Dyke

The opening: a long-haired lady dressed in black - this is Sara Kraft - walks to the center of the stage and breathes. She breathes louder than one normally breathes, as if she’s attended an excess of yoga classes, and just huffs for several minutes. During this long introduction, Kraft has already bored me - and is beginning to annoy me. I could go to a yoga class if I wanted to hear this. The episode concludes as her arm slowly trembles upwards - rhythmically in step with her gasps.

In the next scene, I discovered Kraft’s voice to be as annoying as her breathing, sometimes more affected than other times, but always in a know-it-all tone that reveals the clearly scripted nature of the performance piece. The major motif of HyperReal - presented Oct. 10-12 at Yerba Buena Center for the Arts - revolves around “a formative experience I experienced at 4,” as Kraft puts it: the first ocean image she witnessed was in one of the first movies she ever saw: Jaws.

From here she explains the confusion between the real real ocean and the ocean she learns about from Jaws, which includes terrorizing, man-eating sharks. Scenes, like the first two, with Kraft sitting or standing alone onstage, often speaking into a microphone, explaining experiences such as going to Universal Studios and encountering the mechanical Jaws shark or reading the dictionary definition of “reality,” were juxtaposed with scenes performed behind a thin curtain.

A message from Vanessa Blaikie of Gallery 16:

"Yesterday, two Margaret Kilgallen pieces were stolen from Gallery 16. These paintings were included in our current Fifteenth Anniversary exhibition. The works were not for sale, but belonged to Griff and were given to him by Margaret back in the mid '90s. Needless to say they are of great value to him personally.

Easy was approximately 7" x 12", and the Untitled (profile) was approximately 17" x 12", both enamel on wood panel. There is very little of Margaret's original work out there for sale, if any, and so we are asking that everyone please keep their eyes and ears open with respect to these two works. Should they resurface for sale, or should you see these in a private residence, we ask that you please contact us immediately. Any information would be much appreciated."

You can reach Vanessa at vanessa@gallery16.com and Griff Williams of Gallery 16 at 415.626.7495.

By Justin Juul

Please Dress Up! is a clothing company run by Grant Doolittle and Judy Berbarian, two artists who live in near the Panhandle. If you’ve noticed all the girls rocking stripy shirts and pencil pants in the last few months, it’s because of them.

SFBG: So what’s your deal?
Judy Berbarian: My name’s Judy Berbarian and this is Grant Doolittle and we make up the label Please Dress Up! We’re custom clothiers/fashion designers.

SFBG: What’s the general idea behind Please Dress Up!?
Doolittle: Well, it’s just as the name states, really. We want people to dress up and we want to create unique pieces that are timeless in both style and in construction so they can do it. The name Please Dress Up! came to us after realizing what direction we wanted to take our clothing. It's clear and direct and people get the message right away, I think.

SFBG: Do you fit in with any fashion trends, like a specific school of fashion or whatever?
Berbarian: Our work is rooted in the tradition of French couture: custom made-to-measure garments all available in different fine fabrics. We don’t pay much attention to trends, but we do admire other designers. Some of our favorites are Balenciaga, Viktor and Rolf, Yves Saint Laurent, Christian Dior, and John Galliano.

SFBG: What about local designers? Are you part of an indie fashion movement or something?

Berbarian: We’re pretty separate from any scene, but we do admire some local designers. Al from Al's Attire in North Beach is our favorite. He’s a true craftsman and his work is just amazing. We’d love to have a shop just like his once we get a little more settled. As far as us fitting in to the design scene here, it’s been kinda hard. San Francisco used to be a Mecca for designer and high-quality clothing, but the industry has sort of disappeared and so have most of the resources for designers like us. All we have is each other to push our creativity further. On the flipside though, the indie designer scene here is special because it’s so raw. Also, people here really want to support locally made crafts. That’s why all the indie festivals have been doing so well lately.

SFBG: So how did you guys get into the fashion thing? Did you go to fashion or design school or anything?

Doolittle: Nope. No school for me.

Berbarian: Me neither. I’ve been sewing since I was 14 though. I always wanted to do this, but my Aunt discouraged me. It’s was kind of weird because she always made all my clothes, yet she wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer or something. But I just wanted to be like her and make clothes. I was doing it on my own for a while and then Grant came along. We’ve been friends for seven years now, and we’ve been living together for like a year.

Guardian street photog Ariel Soto takes in San Francisco style.

Kisha, Crystal, and Gianna, Eddy and Divisadero

After my last few fashion seeking jaunts through the city, the styles seems to be moving towards fall, with boots galore and then a mix of almost all black and white, or totally color crazy. Luckily for us city dwellers, the sun is still shining here in San Francisco and we don't have to completely cover up to fight the elements, or our toes for that matter, as many were still sporting cute open toed sandals. My favorite fashionista this round? Olive in her adorable purple pants. Whose style do you lust over?

Anee, Castro and 18th Street

Carol, Fillmore and Sacramento

Corey, Pierce and Post

Jamie, Sacramento and Fillmore

James, McAllister and Divisadero

Mayumi, Buchanan and Sutter

By Michelle Broder Van Dyke

Envision tennis without racquets - as the French name of the sport, jeu de paume or “game of the palm,” implies. Then take away the nets, like the tennis term “the line” suggests; Hold the five-centimeter ball in the palm of your hand and before serving always yell, “Eh!” And you’ve got Palla Eh!, a traditional Tuscan ball game played pick-up style in the piazzas of six hilltop towns.

These very small villages of about 1,000 residents have kept Palla Eh! alive and vibrant as a swift, spontaneous sport that brings the entire community together. The game originated in the 16th century and spread throughout the region, evolving over the years, but with roots that clearly demonstrate that Tennis and Palla Eh! share a common ancestor. The sport was formalized as it spread to Holland, South Eastern Spain, and Piemonte, Italy, but the rules within these Tuscan villages remain malleable, varying from town to town.

The game's small, handmade balls are constructed from recycled materials such as couch covers and yarn, and are thrown or struck - rather then caught - with either a bare or gloved hand by facing teams. Games are played in the piazza of a village, a central feature in Italian towns, and the boundaries are marked with painted lines, but there is no net, and players can move freely between sides.

By Chloe Schildhause

Haruki Murakami’s discussion in Berkeley earlier this month could make a fan out of those who have never even read his work, but his sense of humor, quick wit, and sharp philosophy definitely enhanced one’s appreciation of his writing. Because Murakami allegedly hates having his picture taken, and because he only agreed to three interviews while in the U.S., I expected a reclusive, anti-social man, but he was full of laughs and charismatic.

Murakami’s interview with moderator Roland Kelts drew a sold-out crowd of over 2,000 people. Longtime fans got a chance to see the persona of the man behind great novels such as The Elephant Vanishes, The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, and the recent memoir What I Talk About When I Talk About Running (Knopf, 175 pages, $21). Turns out that Murakami is a man who likes beer and jazz and is obsessed with cats, refrigerators, wells, ears, and elephants.

A good pic of a man who hates having his picture taken

It may be getting chilly outside, but Guardian street photog Ariel Soto keeps warming up to those lovely SF street fashions:

Ashley, Ellis and Market

Gala, Post and Scott

Olive, Fillmore and Clay

Lyn, Market and Stockton

Miriam, Divisadero and McAllister

Kathy, Sutter and Fillmore

The real thing!

By Deborah Giattina

Hey, it was oppressive seeing all those Red Bull banners waving from electric poles and street lights around the Mission Dolores corridors. Soon after Red Bull umbrellas started popping up at cafes with outdoor seating. Great. An energy drink is taking over the Mission.

The banners were announcing the Oct 18 Red Bull Soap Box Derby held off of Dolores Park, where an estimated 60,000 attendees gathered to watch the race rolling down Dolores between 21st and 18th Streets on huge “Big Brother is Watching You” screens erected around the park.

You had to show up early to find a spot where you could actually see the soapbox cars cruise down the track using the power of nothing more than your own two eyes. No doubt, the vehicles were creative but not exactly built for speed.

Worst of all, I feared the corporate-sponsored spectacle, held in four cities across the lower 48 this year, might have co-opted the annual derby held by the San Francisco Illegal Soapbox Society, whose members have been swerving down Bernal Hill since 1993. Rest assured, it’s still happening, as evidenced by Telstar Logistics’s recent post on the Sunday after Halloween, as per usual.

By G. Martinez Cabrera

The new pin-up.

Recently, camera shutters were clicking and clothes were coming off in Potrero Hill. Fifteen photographers from all over the West Coast gathered at Blue Sky Rental Studios for an all-day bootcamp hosted by Zivity.

Zivity specializes in publishing pin-up and glamour photography while stressing the importance of the model’s role in each picture. Models and photographers find each other on the site and decide on the tone and the content of each set as a team. To ensure an equal partnership, Zivity splits royalties equally between photographer and model for every shoot. Usually “photographers get all the credit,” one participant said, but Zivity seems to want to change that.

The collaborative process.