Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Designing pet-able shoes

I'm kind of obsessed with designer shoes. Not really because of the name, but because of the uniqueness of the shoes, and I guess kind of because of the name.

Really the whole issue about shoes, or clothes in general, center around the fact that I'm  snob. I like having things other people don't have and/or want. Yes, it's shallow, but I'm OK with that. I'm working on embracing my flaws, so let's roll with this. 

One of the ready made designs at Milk and Honey
I loathe the idea of people buying the same shoes as me and making them look dumb. That's the worst, when you see someone wearing something amazing and they made it look like shit because they have the fashion sense of a goat.

Instead I would rather people marvel at my ability to look like a total cartoon (in a good way) and be envious of me instead of trying to replicate, and ruin, a good look.

You'd think with all my self-centered-ness and hatred of people having the same things as me I'd sew, design clothes, or something, but as far as those things go I'm totally useless. I take shirts with missing buttons to the tailors instead of doing it myself. It's not because I'm lazy, but simply because I know my limitations and I'm willing to pay for something that someone else does better than I do. (I should really try this out in a case to get a cleaning lady).

Bringing this back to shoes, I wanted to share my newest lunchtime obsession; designing my own shoes on Milk and Honey.  No, I haven't bought anything yet, but that's because there are so many amazing combinations. Flats (if that's your thing), heels, sandals, loafers (with or without heels), peep toe, pointy, strappy, not. You can even choose heel height, platform presence and height, texture, pattern and color. Bow or no bow, studs or no, glitter, patent, pony hair (I love shoes you can pet), or vegan. They have it all available, and you can watch your creation take shape on the page in the form of a cartoon shoe.The best part; as far as designing your own one of a kind shoes that other people can't ruin with their barn animal level fashion sense goes, they're affordable.

Too bad I didn't see this in time to order a pair of pink glitter dream shoes for my wedding. I guess that just means I have to create and extra pair to make up for it, at least one of which I'll be able to pet.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Princess heels and happily ever after

I have my life back.

Photo by Wasio Photography
For those of you who know me personally, read the blog regularly, or can read into my nervous breakdowns, I was recently planning a wedding. Actually it was my wedding. So now I'm married and am a Mrs., which really only makes me feel older. 

Aside from the new titles, there was also the wedding, which was a giant party, complete with beautiful shoes on me and all of my amazing bridesmaids. They all got to choose their own black shoes and all picked something different and beautiful.

I'm sure there are going to be plenty of pictures of everyone's shoes, but it was my last minute glitter find at Baker's that has already been captured on film (thanks to my amazing photographer).

Five inch heels made it so I didn't have to get my dress hemmed.  They also made my feet hurt by the end of a long, whirlwind day. Running around, walking, taking photos, dancing, and everything else that goes along with a wedding. All in 5 towering inches of multi-colored glitter fabulousness.

At the end of the night I kicked off those heels and sat down for the first time in hours. Now life is returning to normal, and normal means that I am going to have more money for shoes, because this wedding really crippled my shoe collection. I am looking forward to needing another shoe closet and spending money on crap I don't really need, duplicating styles. (Yes, four pair of black boots are necessary). After all, doesn't being married means you share your life with someone and live happily ever after? Lucky for me he realizes that my happily ever after also comes with heels.

Monday, November 8, 2010

Footloose

This weekend was the "last hurrah." The bachelorette  party.

We didn't do the stripper thing, and given that I spent most of my 20s in bars living life like a movie, there really weren't any more oats that needed sowing. Instead the bridesmaids and I got dolled up, went to dinner, saw a drag show and danced the night away, working on hangovers to rival that of my 20s.

Prior to all that though there were days of texts, phone calls and picture messages all concerning one thing: what to wear.

The only rules were to be as freaky or flashy as you want to be, and no one disappointed. Everyone wore sequins, big earrings, and even my heel adverse sister was rocking a pair of black pumps with her sparkly top.

I, on the other hand, turned a five minute walk to the restaurant into 15 minutes and for some reason thought it would be a good idea to wear five in stilettos with  a giant platform. Paired with a sequin skirt, black bustier style top and the longest black feather boa known to man, and I was almost a drag queen myself.

I was also chided by the Queen of Big Hair for having my hair teased up (for volume) so she couldn't get the pink tulle atrocity of a veil they made me in my hair.  Then again, I didn't do my hair with a headband covered in tulle and jewels, so it's really their fault for trying that in the first place. I would have been quite happy to just continue to shed feathers all over and wave the lollicock at people.

The night was pretty tame all things considered, but I still paid for it. With my feet (and a giant headache). Apparently dancing for hours on end in massive heels coupled with extremity numbing alcohol isn't really a great idea if you're planning on being able to walk the next day. Still, the pain is worth it for a few hours in those fabulous shoes.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Search me

Sometimes the best thing about writing a blog is being able to look at the web analytics. It's kind of like spying on your readers.

I can tell what country traffic is coming from outside my native U.S. (love you South Africa), how long people spend reading (average 5 minutes), the most popular posts, and my personal favorite, the search terms that get me found.

These are the first shoes that show up. Gag. 
Sure, there are the regular ones like designer names, "high heels," "leopard print heels," and so on. This week brought me the new weird one though.

"Heels made of cat."

"Bullshit, that doesn't work," I'm thinking. Not to mention the wondering of why anyone would ever look for heels made from cats, or any kind of shoe for that matter. So I go to Google, and search, and sure enough, there it is. Right underneath some ugly wooden shoe with "CAT" in the style name, a story on cat surgery, and some defunct brand of shoes called "Cat's Paw Heels."

Luckily, the whole first page is all goofy stuff, including industrial pumps, more shoes, and stuff for the North Carolina Tar Heels (which I now know is some kind of sports team). Never are there actual heels made out of cats. And, for the record I have never discussed such a thing on the blog.

Well, until now. I imagine traffic is about to get really freaky now.