Shortly after taking office in 2013, District 5 Supervisor London Breed went shopping.
Dissatisfied with the spartan accommodations at City Hall, Breed bought furniture — almost $4,000 worth. She dropped $1,853 at Pier 1 Imports, $1,371 at West Elm in Emeryville, and another $200 at vintage emporium Mickey's Monkey in the Lower Haight.
City legislators receive $5,000 a year in public money to pay for office supplies, but the slow pace of the official City Hall purchasing process frustrated her (as did the $1,000 bill from the city's approved business card vendor). So Breed went shopping again, spending $1,871 at the Apple store, $611 at Best Buy, and a couple hundred more at Office Depot and Target.
All this came after Breed spent $13,209.43 on a lavish swearing-in ceremony officiated by Attorney General Kamala Harris. Later that year, Breed spent almost $7,000 on a Pride parade contingent that featured a float and several (sexy) dancers.
This is the kind of profligacy that inspires righteous anger among political watchdogs — or it would, if Breed spent any public money. She didn't; the $135,000 in public financing she accepted during her campaign was long gone by the time she was sworn in.
Instead, Breed spent her supporters' money, using surplus funds from her campaign war chest to buy computers, couches, and office supplies.
This is unusual — none of Breed's colleagues went on similar campaign donor-funded shopping sprees, according to public records — but entirely legal.
The state's Fair Political Practices Commission says a candidate-turned-elected-official can use unspent campaign cash for any purpose related to public office. That's why Breed used the campaign kitty to pay her cellphone bill (about $1,800 a year) and the monthly toll at a Civic Center parking garage for one of her staffers ($180 a month).
"It's expensive, being an elected," says Breed, who earns $102,000 as a supervisor — barely enough to rent a one-bedroom apartment these days. That's why if an expense is official, Breed breaks out her campaign funds rather than her personal checkbook. "The expense wouldn't exist if I weren't in this position," she says.
Breed, now the president of the Board of Supervisors, isn't up for re-election until next year. But her campaign account has been busy cashing donors' checks — and writing new ones. This year, Breed's campaign money funded her trip to L.A. for the state Democratic Party convention ($1,800). And last year, campaign cash paid for 50 Uber rides ($575.32).
Breed swears she is on the up-and-up, and nobody is saying otherwise. Still, the situation shows how a deep-pocketed donor could sway a politician by writing checks in exchange for favors cashed in later.
As for a campaign donor surprised to discover his or her check was used not for campaigning but for shopping? Hasn't happened, Breed says.
"People give me money because they want to support me," she says. "And they trust me to do what I need to do."
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