Monday, December 27, 2010

Too bloody normal

Nightmare of You Platform (8)
You can buy them

A few weeks ago husband asked what I wanted for Christmas. I told him I needed a pair of plain black ankle boots or a pair of unembellished red heels, preferably peep toe. He pissed and moaned about how boring that was, and we went back and forth with a million pictures and Web sites, and then I sent him the shoes I wanted.

Iron Fist Freddy Krueger inspired heels called "Welcome to my Nightmare."

Horror movies and shoes all rolled into one! And they were amazing, and contained the original colors I was looking for (plus blood spatters), so that's got to count for something. But with little time left to order shoes we decided to shop for them in stores.

The weekend before Christmas the over-crowded mall failed us. A couple days before Christmas the local stores that carry Iron Fist shoes failed. And instead we were left staring at walls and walls of shoes in the store and they had all kinds of Iron Fist shoes, but not the ones I wanted. So we agreed I'd find something else.

Too normal for something special
At this point I did what anyone would do and instead tried on 200 other pairs of shoes and walked up to him triumphant, carrying metallic gold and black tiger stripe heels.

"That's what you want for Christmas?" he asked as I nodded earnestly and shoved the box at him indicating that I was not paying.

"But those are so...normal. I mean they're nice, but they're really normal looking. Why don't you keep looking and get something else that's a little more different. And we can get those too."

Metallic gold tiger stripe heels are too normal? Good to know. They're so normal in fact, that when I got home I realized that I didn't own anything to go with them. I don't have gold sweaters or pants (although that would be cool). I barely even have gold jewelry. Eventually I paired them with all black and a loud necklace with gold in it, considered it cutting edge corporate, and went to work to push the dress code with shoes too normal for Christmas gifts.

Oh, and I still need those black boots and red heels. So really the whole thing will eventually cost me (and him) more money than if we went with boring in the first place.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Officially stylish

It's official. I'm stylish. Someone else said so. A designer actually. Oh, and my blog is too. Really it's probably just the blog since I don't personally know the person who presented me with the award. 

Thanks to Ushi Sato at The Shades and Scarf. He posted the link to the Cat in Heels fan page on Facebook after naming Cat in Heels as one of his favorite blogs. (If you haven't checked him out, you can see his stuff here.)

This cute, pay it forward style award stipulates that you mention seven things about yourself that people may not know, and send it along to your favorite style bloggers. The other one may take a while, as I have to be picky. And seven things about me no one knows...well what fun would that be. Some readers don't even know what I look like above the knee. Which is ironic considering I generally have had issues with people having full discussions with my chest.

In the interest of fairness though, you are welcome to ask me questions and I'll answer them. You can ask me shoe related questions all the time, and this time I'll even answer seven personal questions. Send them through Formspring, and knock yourselves out.

As for those other bloggers deserving of this award...I'll just have to give that some time and keep you guessing.

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Shoes love me, pants don't

While most people spend Christmas shopping for others, hoping they like whatever you bought, keeping track of gift tags, and asking strangers to try on sweaters because they're about the same size as the recipient, my family goes practical. Every year my sisters and I each get a day with Mom where we wander the mall, purses stuffed with cash and coupons, and pick out all our Christmas gifts.

They all love me, even if I hate them.
Sure, it takes some of the surprise out of it, but it's better to get things you like than some awkward sweater that doesn't fit and you'd never wear, and you have to feign like you love it. Plus we've always done it this way. It's one of our quirky Christmas traditions.

So last weekend Mom and I busted into the mall, pushed past droves of children waiting to see Santa, scurried past the stage of tweens dancing to "Party in the USA," (WTF?) and walked into the store to pick out my annual Christmas wardrobe.

I brought a pile of pants with me to the dressing room wanting to have more than four pair in regular work rotation. I tried them on. A little bit of pulling at the hips; next size. Now they're sitting on my hips, drag on the floor like I'm a child playing dress up, and still pull at the hips. Try on a pair of jeans the same size as what I wore into the store and I can't even get my leg all the way into them.

I cuss, get an unapproving look from Mom, who assures me that the pants are obviously made for freaks, and we move on. 

Next store. Same size as the last store don't button, same size as I'm wearing into the store, not a prayer. Mom brings in the next size up; they fit, even in length. Oh, they're the "curvy" fit in "ankle length." I look at Mom. "They may as well call these the "short, fat girl pants."

She laughs. I scowl.

So we bought a bunch of tops and the pants for the short, fat girls (apparently me), and walked out, my self-esteem battered. As we walked through the department store on the way back to the parking lot we stared at the shoes. Glorious shoes. Rows and rows of shoes that only vary half a size in any direction, no matter where they're from. Shoes that don't make me look fat, or feel bad about myself. They will never look better on another girl because she's skinnier or has a smaller butt. They won't sit in the closet and mock me because they no longer fit, or randomly shrink in the dryer and become fit for a doll.

Shoes love me. For always, no matter what. Even if I do have an extra cookie and can't fit in my pants.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Hiding in plain sight

How do you hide things in plain sight?

If it's a pair of shoes in my closet, the answer is simple. Just put them in the closet. No one will notice another pair of shoes in there. Even after it's been cleaned. The trickier part is then introducing the shoes into regular rotation without answering where they came from and where they've been.

Let's back up. About a week before the wedding I went shopping with my sister and bought new wedding shoes at Bakers. If you follow me on Twitter (which my hubby does not) then you know another purchase was also made at that time. A pair of black suede H by Halston ankle boots with a studded cuff. And they were on sale. And they counted as a boot, so I got 25% off my other shoes. So like a week before my wedding I spent a couple hundred dollars on shoes.

New boots being incognito in the closet.
I was going to skip them and just get the multi-colored glitter shoes, but my sister convinced me otherwise saying that they were definitely going to be the cutest shoes I own for like a hot minute until I either buy another pair of shoes or wear ones she hasn't seen or forgot about. Plus my niece liked them. They were sparkly and she likes sparkly things.

She's a very bad influence. (My sister, not the baby).

So I gave in to peer pressure and bought the shoes and the boots. Buying two pairs of shoes the week of my wedding is not the smartest money move I've ever made in my life. So I took a page from Mom's book and kept them in the closet for a few weeks. That way no one knows but you and when you finally pull out the hidden article you can say, "I've had this for a while."

Seriously. Try it.

This week the moment of truth came. I was getting ready to go to a concert, and of course had to wear the most asinine shoes I had at the moment, so I paired them with black skinny jeans and strutted out into the living room like nothing's nothing.

"Those are cute," he said looking over from the computer.
"Thanks." I started breaking into a cold sweat thinking 'Dear God don't ask when I got them.'
"Come here. I want to show you these heels I found. Tell me if you like them," he said turning back to the computer.

And that is one of the reasons I love him. No questions and has shoe suggestions for me. Now he may read this and chastise me, but I already wore them, so it's too late to take them back, and it's kind of funny. Then again, he may not read this and my secret pre-wedding shopping impulsion will remain a secret between me, my sister and everyone who does read this.

Friday, December 3, 2010

Hiking heels

This may come as a shock to some of you, but I am not an outdoorsy person.

I'll give you a moment to collect yourself and move on.

It's not that I don't like the outdoors. It's fine. Pretty open spaces, sunsets (and sunrises), trees, animals, nature... I like it all, just not near me or on me.

The paved urban jungle I call home is plenty of nature for me. We have birds that aren't afraid of anything, squirrels that will bum cigarettes off you and rats that can open garbage cans and are larger than my dog. There's dirt and stuff in the city, but I try my darnedest to keep it all off me. I don't even garden. I tried once,  ruined a manicure and ended up with a dead plant in less than a week.

Domesticity fail. Traditionally nature, manicures, dry clean only clothes and heels don't go together anyway. Not that people don't keep trying though.

Because this looks safe and fashionable....
The latest try has Teva has teamed up with Grey Ant to try and bring the prissy people outside to commune with nature and fuck up their manicures by creating a Teva stiletto.

Apparently hiking, rock climbing and even mowing the lawn is fashionable when you Velcro these to your feet. Then when you're done you can slip on a dress for cocktail hour and be on your way.


And I imagine that no matter what they claim, the likelihood of twisting your ankle or knee rock climbing and hiking in these is just as high as it is if you wear a pair of Jimmy Choos to rock climb, which no one would ever do. Also, please note they MUST be worn with socks. At least according to every picture released by the company. And we all know how I feel about socks with sandals and/or heels.

There were suggestions that they were made to be ironic, which would be fine if they weren't widely available. Designers do goofy shit like that all the time (lobster shoes?), but they don't put that stuff in the stores for innocent eyes to see and the wealthy to purchase.

Wealthy? Tevas? They're no longer for granola-crunching hippies with their $330 price tag.

Wow, ugly and expensive. How else could this go wrong? Oh right, you're hiking in stilettos. Enjoy that broken ankle with your jacked up manicure.