Cat in Heels

People always ask how I can walk in the heels I wear, and that was never more prevalent than when I wore my new Fergie Footwear  island platform pump. Island platforms have been popping up intermittently over the past few seasons, and I have to say I was weary. Having a platform smaller than the shoe on a five inch heels seemed like a disaster waiting to happen. At least for me. But then I'm a little bit of a disaster. I finally bit the bullet and got Olivia, a pair of black snakeskin pumps with a gold platform from Fergie Footwear . They were beautiful and would match that gold and black skirt I have and never wear. They may match other things too, but the skirt is really what I wanted them to go with. Once they arrived I took them on a stroll through the apartment, and managed not to break my neck. Good news. One day at the office, and the same thing. All good. These are my new black pumps A week later I wore them again (and not with the gold skirt) and the unexpect...

Last week I went for snow boots on my lunch. Because I haven't done that 1,000 times before and not found a damn thing. This time I was particularly determined to find boots. I had scouted ahead, found them online, priced them, and all that good stuff. I decided this trip would be to Aldo , and if all else failed, I'd go to Nordstrom after work. So I walked through the cold and snow of Michigan Avenue and realized that Aldo was much further than I thought it was, and by the time I arrived my shoes were a mess, my pants were wet and I was again cursing winter and determined to find snow boots. I love these more than snow boots I went in focused. I found what I was looking for, asked to see it, and then while I was waiting I start perusing the sale racks. This is such an amazing time of year for sales.  By the time they arrived with the boots for me to try on, I had an armload of heels to try on. I don't even need to explain that the boots didn't fit right ...

A few days ago I couldn't find the shoes I was looking for in the closet. There I am, rushing around, getting ready for work, probably brushing my teeth while trying not to trip on a shoe and end up bleeding to death on the floor of my closet with a stiletto in my temple, and I couldn't find my damn navy blue heeled loafers. Finally I gave up, grabbed a different pair and ran off to work. Once I got to the office all my suspicions were confirmed. The missing shoes were sitting in a drawer. Yep, a drawer. Some people own less shoes than I keep at work. I have managed to create a shoe drawer at work in one of my file cabinets. It's rare that I travel to work in certain shoes, especially when it's raining or snowing. Sure, cheap shoes put up with crap weather, but rain ruins suede and tweed, sidewalk construction can rid the patent off a pair of covered heels, and snow...I don't even feel the need to explain myself. As a result of big city living, I often c...

This weekend I went out to dinner with my husband a friend to catch up, have a few drinks and hang out. Because I’m incapable of dressing down or bring casual, I was channeling Peg Bundy with a pair of Leopard print capri pants and a black halter top and black sandals. They’re a classic pair of Nine West sandals with a buckle across the toe, three inch heel and ankle strap. I’ve had them forever, and every so often they get dragged out when I’m going somewhere that involves walking but still calls for a stiletto. Like a summer dinner in the neighborhood. A little girl loves these shoes. She has good taste.  As we’re standing outside the restaurant, waiting to be seated, a mother passes by with a little girl in a stroller. She was probably about 2 or 3 years old, and as they approached she stuck her little arm out of the stroller, pointed at my shoes and screamed, “I love your shoes.” As she got closer she said it again, and again. I laughed, exchanged a look with ...

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 feathe...