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Showing posts from 2010

Too bloody normal

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 a

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 an

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

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

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 t

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

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. A


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

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 o

Athletic heels?

I have a friend who apparently hates me. Sure, she acts like we're friends and all is well, but secretly she can't stand me and wants me to suffer. Yep, I'm on to her. I figured all this out when I had a Facebook message yesterday morning that only contained a link. I clicked on the link, seeing as how it was from a friend and all, and then I almost barfed on my keyboard.  Staring back at me, burning on the screen, was photo after photo of the most hideous shoes I may have ever seen. Those stupid banana clogs on my WTF album are less hideous. Women's Nike Heels Apparently Nike has taken it upon themselves to take a reprive from making really hideous, overpriced athletic shoes, and started also making really hideous, overpriced, clown colored athletic heels. And they slapped the name "Jordan" on them, probably in the hope that the retired basketball player still has some market power. Not if his shoes look like that. Sure. You can be athletic a

The evils of Paris

Every so often a pair of shoes comes along that is unlike anything you can remember. They're beautiful, with slim lines, random and fabulous embellishments, make your legs look incredible...and yet they're inherently evil. Enter Paris Hilton . I should have known a snobby, skinny socialite would design shoes that would cripple me. Her logo even alludes to it, with the whole angle/devil motif. Dear Paris Hilton shoes, I hate you. Love, Cat After spending all day Saturday looking for the perfect peep toes, I gave in and called a friend to borrow a pair of shoes she had that were just what I was looking for. Black patent leather peep toes, and a bow that matched the bow on my dress perfectly. (Yes, I have black peep toes, but it was the bow that made these). She had warned me that they were uncomfortable. She wore them to her own shower and cursed them daily for a week afterward. She practically bursts into tears at the mention of these shoes as she remembers the pai

Corporate Shoe Rule

I am the worst corporate person ever. Well, not really. Actually I rock at my job. Hard. But I've also always stood out in office settings. Apparently I'm not all button-up and stuffy. I can be button up, but depending on the outfit I have this uncanny ability to make button-ups look kind of porno. Yep. Take a properly fitted and darted shirt, pair it with a pencil skirt, heels and a D cup and suddenly you've gone from "professional chic" to "naughty secretary." I have a similar problem when I put a vest on with anything. My version of professional That said, the litany of meetings requiring honest to goodness professional clothes (ie: button downs, trousers and jackets) has been insane the last couple weeks, and will continue to do so from the looks of things. So while I'm trying to make sure my jacket covers my breasts as opposed to frames them, and that there's no gaping between the shirt buttons, I never took into account that I&

Obvious statements and no pants

The other day a girl I never saw before came strolling into my office and said she was told to look at my shoes. Purple shoes and the great disappointment I kind of stared blankly at her for a moment. "You were told to see my shoes today?" I asked. "Yes, I was told you have fabulous shoes." "Ummm. OK. Today is a little dull though. Just brown crocodile peep toes. I'm pretty sure they meant another day. I have shoes way more interesting than these," I explained while swiveling around in my chair and letting her look at my shoes. She looked a bit crestfallen. As if I was was supposed to be wearing the most amazing shoes ever. The kind of shoes you think about and obsess over for weeks after seeing them. The kind that you look for forever and can't find. A couple days later she stepped in front of me in the hall and pointed a finger at me. "Oh my God, your shoes are purple!" she exclaimed. I just stared at her. I know my

Pirates v. Military- Fashion Battles

I recently finished a book of essays and articles by Chuck Klosterman and was reminded of a day long forgotten. The annual unofficial holiday of Talk Like a Pirate Day , which is an international holiday celebrated every September 19 by those who really love pirates. They even suggest those who really love pirates have pirate themed parties, buy books about pirates and download official songs. DKNY Klosterman was discussing the day in relation to society's obsession with pirates, which we seem to still have. Unfortunately the recent bout of actual pirates (as recently as earlier this month) seem to have made the whole notion a bit less romantic. It seems none of them look like Johnny Depp, and they tend to take over ships and kill (as opposed to fight the undead and crack one liners while looking like a hotter version of Keith Richards). Regardless, the point that pirates continue to influence society, and our fashion, still stands. This year I've seen more and more bo

Bird legs and cement shoes

I'm really glad I don't have bird legs. Or cankles. I'm not really sure how to spell that, but you know what I mean. When your calf and ankle meld together into one giant, soft, fleshy, undefined mess. Gag. In reality I don't have amazing legs. They're not bad, they're just legs and they work just fine. They're not really long (or short). My thighs have never been as tight as I want, or as small as I want, and thanks to some freakish German genetics, years and years of dancing (and being in heels constantly), my calves are larger and more defined than some other ladies. Thankfully though I have never had those under-defined, straight up and down, calf the same size as your thigh, bird legs that currently dominate runways. As I've been watching the new styles rolling out from fashion week I realized that none of the shoes look good on those women because they have no definition to their legs. This season shoes have gotten chunkier. They're gia

Something sweet

This weekend I finally got my pink glittery shoes. Actually it was only one shoe. And it was a wedge instead of a heel. But it was edible. My ever creative mother had a shoe cake made for me for my birthday celebration with the family. And in true mom fashion she went all out and had it made pink and sparkly. The cake was a great wedge sandal, complete with ankle straps (that were not edible), with butterfly cookies on the side. In fact it kind of looked like the wedges I wore over there (because even dinner with the family requires a little lift). So we ate and drank. The joke of the night being the Raging Bitch ale that Dad brought home from the store. I'm pretty sure there are pictures of everyone modeling one of these beers, though it was only my brother-in-law who was brave enough to make the inevitable raging bitch joke about his wife.  Did he want a Raging Bitch? No thanks, he came with one. It was a few sweet hours of relaxation. No wedding plans, no housework

Cow walking

I am a woman of many talents. I can bake, write, wear thing other people only dream about, do 50 things at one time, throw one hell of a party, and walk in just about any kind of shoe while doing any of the aforementioned activities. Those who lack the ability to walk in heels often do what my snarky friends and I have deemed the "cow walk." They lumber forward, their upper body at a slant forward or backwards as if they're about to tip over, knees bent, stomping one foot in front of the other, as if punishing the shoes. It's sort of like watching the Jolly Green Giant in drag. In all honesty I'm not sure what's so hard about walking in heels. I've been doing it since I could scuffle around my parent's room in my mom's shoes. Once I started buying them for myself I started small, and gradually built on height. I'm not sure when I started wearing things that only have platforms, and 4-5 inch heels became the norm, but that's exactly wh

Shoe porn and barefeet

The other day I got a text from my brother-in-law. It said Vibram FiveFingers and then a link. Now, maybe there's something wrong with me, but my immediate thought was, "Why am I getting porn SPAM from the BIL?" Then I realized that texts aren't SPAM, and there's no way he'd send me porn (because that's weird) and it had to be something else. So I took a deep breath and clicked on the link. I'm pretty sure I would have rather seen porn. Instead there are pictures of people's feet adorned in those awful hobbit feet, rubber shoe things. Which I guess are kind of like porn because they're obscene looking, and kind of like a foot condom. I must have taken a while because then he sent a text, "Cat in fingers?" I understand it's the closest thing to being barefoot, and that's good, and it's anatomically correct, and designer shoes are still more expensive and definitely not as comfy, but the fact remains th

Somebody's watchin' you

I love watching people. What they wear, their mannerisms, habits, nervous twitches. And even more amazing is how people act when they think no one is watching. This is when you see the nose pickers, face makers, eye rollers, nail biters, and on and on. Today I encountered another breed of it. The casual from the waist down people. I work in an office where the vast majority of us spend our time sitting behind desks, typing, talking on phones and shuffling papers. The dress code is business casual, which leaves a lot open for interpretation. At one point today I was running around and noticed that not only are there those who push the "casual" part of "business casual" but there are also those who look great from the waist up, and the bottom half looks like they got dressed out of the hamper in the dark. It's like the clothing version of the mullet. This extends all the way down to the shoes (despite there being rules on footwear as well). Dirty gym sho

Tying one on

Yesterday I was picking my shoes out of the closet and realized I was wearing shoes with bows two days in a row. Not the same shoes, mind you. Two different pair of shoes, in different color schemes, with different types of bows, but still bows. I was then that I looked around and realized just how many pairs or shoes I have with bows. Some have them on the front, Iron Fist has them on the back. One pair has a small bow above a leather tassle/fringe. Still another pair ties in big giant bows and remind me of tap shoes. Really tall, kind of club kid tap shoes...but the overall feel is there. Then I realized that I was also stalking bow shoes. There's the Louboutin 's on my Facebook page, and the mint green ones that Pin-Up Girl Clothing just started offering (I don't currently have mint green shoes). I even sent my sister a link to a pair of Betsey Johnson peep toes with a bow that I thought she would like. I think I'm developing a sickness. I should really star

Manolos, and other things I don't have for my wedding

Today in the states you can't turn on any show or open a website or a newspaper, or answer a phone call from my mom without hearing about Chelsea Clinton's New York wedding. The Vera Wang dress, unadorned veil, Hillary's dress (and how Mom thinks the tulips on the bottom made her look shorter) and buses of politicians and socialites. Access Hollywood gave an overview of her whole outfit all the way down to Chelsea's shoes. They were supposedly Manolo platform peep toe, but I can't find a picture of them anywhere. But at 6:30 pm,  there is Billy Bush on TV waxing on about how unique they were. Really Billy Bush? I have platform peep toes spilling out of my closet in droves, and I'm pretty sure Manolo Blahnik and every other designer in the world has been creating and selling them for years. This is hardly a new shoe style for weddings or otherwise. But now that Chelsea has worn them it's going to be all the rage. Stupid Chelsea and her damn wedding.

Studs, studs, everywhere...

...and I don't own any. At least I don't think so. I have to go raid my closet, but I'm almost positive that I don't have one pair of shoes that is adorned with spikes or studs. I have clothes that fit that category, but I think as far as shoes go the closest I get is a bunch of buckles or hardware. Christian Louboutin has an amazing pair of heels that not only have studs, but also bows, which are covered in studs. The Clou Noeud Spikes. I only own polka dot shoes with bows. Two pair actually, and they're disappointingly less lethal than Louboutin's shoe. I guess I could beat someone to death with them, but I can't stab them with the cute little bows.   Today it was also announced that Ruthie Davis ' will be coming to Neiman Marcus (which is great if you don't have a boutique that sells her stuff in your area). The shoe they advertised this new with was so great it prompted a mid-afternoon Facebook post, and some general designer obsessing

New old stuff

This weekend I went shopping in my own closet. Convinced that I had sandals that were a little more 1st birthday party friendly than something with a platform, I started digging through the blue bin. The blue bin is my answer to keeping shoe boxes. It's basically a giant shoe box that I rotate shoes through on a seasonal basis. Or at least that's the theory. In actuality it ends up being stuff I don't wear a lot, shoes I forgot about, and boots that are big and have laces that get tangled in everything and don't fit anywhere. Strappy black sandals; I forgot about you. Chinese print sandals: I love you, but do remember you scrape my foot and only go with a few outfits. Zebra print Kenneth Cole ! I totally forgot about your existence. Let's be friends again. Black satin sandals with rhinestones and a ribbon tie; you don't go with anything.  Doc Martens that have been in hiding since the '90s, buckle patent leather boots that I bought after getting int

Charitable acts of ugly

A few weeks ago I asked a co-worker if she wanted to take part in a charity 5K run/walk our office was participating in. The exchange went back and forth via email as we pressured one another to participate, and finally I got this:    You will have to wear gym shoes though.  Can you handle it? Thanks for the vote of confidence.  I am happy to report that I not only did the whole thing in more than 80 degree heat with humidity that can only come from a swampland, but I'm not sore today, and my feet didn't shrivel up and fall off for wearing a pair of New Balance cross trainers.  Today I am back in heels, and no, there will not be photos of athletic shoes. They're all ugly. I look at the whole event, from wearing athletic shoes to walking/jogging 3.6 miles in almost 90 degree weather all part of my charitable contribution.  

Fighting gold

Sometimes shoes pinch a little. Or they pull, or the buckle digs into your toe, the back chafes your ankle, and so on. The issues you can have with shoes is endless. This being said, discomfort in the name of fashion is something I put up with a little more than other people. So when the gold sandals I got a few weeks ago were not all that comfortable, I ignored it. Saturday I was getting ready to go out, and was trying on gold shoes to wear with my black Armani tank. Gold slingbacks, bronze mules, or gold strappy gladiators. There were multiple stops in the evening, so it had to be something that could go from house warming to punk pretty seamlessly while pulling out the gold and bronze sequin detail of the top. Gold gladiators it was. Never mind the fact that my toes went numb last time I wore them. This time would be different. This is what I told myself as I jammed my feet in them, when one fell off the bed and landed on the floor sole side up; and there, staring at me from th

My superhero nemesis

If I was a super hero I would have a rockin' costume. It would probably be something that's a sassy mix of club clothes and jazzersize with a bunch of hardware thrown in for good measure, and of course sequins. And my superhero self would wear a bitchin' pair of heels to fight crime and injustice. After all, good shoes are a staple of super hero costumes. Wonder Woman had knee high red boots, Cat Woman wore black stilettos that were part of her unitard, She-Ra had gold knee high boots, and Jem wore a more sensible pink pump. (It's hard to be multiple people in a day if you can't run a little in your shoes). They all also had their nemesis, and had to battle evil while looking good. You never saw Wonder Woman or Super Girl falling all silly in their shoes, and Jem never tripped while booking it around the music studio to change identities and foil the Misfit's plan. She-Ra never had a hair out of place. Which brings me to my nemesis. The one thing in the

Rolling out at weddings

A few years ago I was traveling for work and was stopped because my suitcase came in above the 50 lb max. It was like 51 lbs or something. So the baggage handler asked me to open  it up, take a pair of shoes out and transfer them to my other bag. This would not work, I explained. There were no shoes in the overweight bag, they were all in the second bag. He stared at me slack jawed for a moment and told me to forget about it and put the bags through. Shoes generally aren't portable. They're bulky, don't pack well, and if you have heels like mine, you risk stabbing your luggage or ripping something. Sure, it's a pain, but it's a price to pay for having a pair of shoes for every outfit. Luckily, someone has solved all of our shoe packing problems, and come up with a rollable shoe. Rolleez . Please note the sarcasm. Jury is still out on this one people.  A friend sent them to me and said she's buying them for her bridesmaids so they don't all change i

No new adventures, pain and doggy play dates

It seems that the Fourth of July weekend put every blogger in America on vacation. News, politics, was only the people with kids who had anything to blog about, and even then it generally took until Monday for us to see pictures of Suzy and Billy in their red, white and blue waving sparklers at the camera. I did not wear red, white and blue, but there are pictures of me waving sparklers at the camera. Even my shoes were bored this last weekend. I spent the entire time in a pair of platform sandals, previously designated for BBQs and the like, and managed to do very little except eat, sleep, spend some time with the family (including my princess niece, who learned all about purses) and hang out with my dog. So last night it was it was wine and puppy play date with Laura and Axl (you can deduce who is the human and who is the dog), and again, no shoes because Laura hurt her toe when it lost against a door in a fight. Right in time for summer and sandal season. The do

Gladiators and t-shirts

My younger sister, Figgy (not her real name), and I try to do something good for ourselves once a week, so we attend a yoga classes, then grab dinner for sister chat. Last night was no different, except I also found a way to get free booze involved. Enter a t-shirt release party. Chicago Designer Anna Hovet released her new Signature Tee collection, and in an effort to support local designers and get a free glass of wine, we decided to stop there on the way to dinner after yoga. Plus it was literally around the corner from me at Black Market Cavier , which I had not gone into yet because I was afraid of finding cute things and spending all my money.   Of course we had to change after yoga class. You don't think I'd go to a t-shirt release party in yoga pants and flip flops, do you? So we stopped home to change, touch up the makeup, and make ourselves a little more presentable. I rocked a pair of leggings and gladiator heels (not sandals), and we traipsed over there t

The cost of fashion

The Daily Express in the UK ran an article about what women spend on shoes in their lifetime. They said it was about $20,000 and assumes that the average woman has 16 pairs of shoes. I think that may mean that I'll spend about $50,000 in my lifetime, if not more, based on the fact that I have way more than 16 pair of shoes. That figure is in no way based on real math, so it could be more over the course of my life. Couple that with the more than seven pairs a year my significant other buys, and he and I will have spent enough in a lifetime to buy a small island. The article goes on to say that women own an average of six pairs of flip flops and ballet flats (I have 2 flip flops and 0 ballet flats), three pair of boots (I don't really have time to dig those out and count), two pairs of "work shoes (what the hell is a work shoe?), four pairs of "foxy shoes" for going out (shouldn't all shoes be foxy?), and a random pair (like clown shoes?). I'm not

Love me and my epic fail

Happy National Pink Day! Now let's all pause in horror at what a failure I am for having completely not known about it. Instead I wore purple and black today, and left all my beautiful pink shoes home with the dog. I bet they're crying right now. Some say pink day is for breast cancer awareness, some just say it's for fun. Regardless, it should be celebrated because it's a great color. Betsey Johnson celebrated by making her whole store pink. Or that could have just been a random photo. She's generally pretty pink. In other news, this little Cat has been quite busy and now has a Twitter account, and a Facebook page. So be sure to follow me and like me, and follow the blog in two different places, and really just make your cyber life revolve around Cat in Heels. And send it to your friends so they can read my snarky comments about people's footwear and judge me and my sanity. Besides, Twitter has been being a total bitch to work with, and some woman i

Fighting defeat

Saturday I donned pinstripe Gaultier hotpants with a sequin top and matching vest for my younger sister's birthday party. The unofficial theme for the party was Glitter and Doom, so naturally I had to dress like a maniac, which means the only acceptable shoe for this was obviously the pinstripe, two strap, platform with patent leather accents from Bordello that I bought on an impulse about a month ago. Aside from the amazing box they come in (pink and black with a bow) these shoes are awe inspiring. As I teetered around the kitchen, trying to get used to being almost six feet tall, I wondered if I could really handle a whole night in the shoes. The trip down three flights of stairs was precarious at best, and as I stood with my fiance and friend, I wondered if I would make the whole night in these shoes. Sure, they looked amazing, but the toes on my right foot were going numb and I had a cramp in the arch of my left foot. I felt like I was in pointe shoes again, and forgot

Doll Parts

When I was a kid I loved Barbie. Big surprise, right? The girl obsessed with fashion and heels loves the doll who has more clothes than anyone and feet that are eternally ready for skyscraper heels.  As I grew older I didn't really grow out of Barbie and much as I grew up with her. She can do anything. Astronaut, president, teacher, rock star, and finally (in the form of the Mad Men dolls ) they release Marketing Barbie. To which all of my friends respond, "I thought you already were Marketing Barbie." I can only dream, and they mock me.  My personal collection of Barbie dolls is actually lacking, despite my love of the doll. I occasionally stalk the Barbie Collector website and make mental notes of dolls I want, and may never obtain, and continue to envy Barbie's fashion and her relationship with designers such as Bob Mackie , Chanel , Jonathan Adler (even her furniture is designer) and now, Christian Louboutin . Never have I wanted to transform into Barbie

A flater shade of red

My fiance wears suits every day to work, and last night he was looking at suits online to kill time while I was getting ready to go out. I'm fixing my eyes while he's asking about shades of gray. I'm putting on lipstick while he discusses the appropriate length coat for his frame. On the way out the door I jokingly asked, "Why weren't you shopping for me?" "What do you need?" he asked. "New red shoes. But not metallic red because I already have those. And not sandals because I have those too. And I have patent leather red that fades into black, so not patent. I would prefer a peep toe because that's the shoe that's dying right now. I don't really care if it's a slingback or not, just a basic red shoe." By this time we were outside and walking down the street. "Flat?" "WHAT?!" I shrieked almost teetering off the curb. "Have you met me?" "I meant a flat red color. I realize yo

Cheap does not have to equal ugly

I am the queen of bargin hunting. Actually, my whole family is. Shopping is not something we have to do, it's something we need to do. Like breathe. May father said it's a sport for my sisters and I. We each have a different style, and in the end we all buy lots and lots of stuff. As one may have guessed, I can find a good deal on some amazing shoes that rival the best fashion buyers. I go everywhere. Stores, online, department stores, places that don't normally sell shoes, and stores that some people never even bother to go in. Generally speaking I spend less than $100 on each pair, with some going over and some massively under. So you can imagine my excitement when I saw an article titled " 16 summer fashion ideas Under $50 ." That's my kind of fashion. Ok, maybe not. Everything was ugly. Flip through images, see something kinda not hideous, wince because Chucks count as fashion ideas (haven't they been in style since like 1950?) and then I gag.

Taping the answers

"Do you walk in those?" This is asked of me as I'm standing and heating up my lunch in the kitchen at work. A blank stare followed the question. "They're crazy. They're cute, but do you actually walk in them?" I got to the lunchroom, didn't I? And really, they're not that crazy. Clown shoes are crazy. And the heel isn't that high. I refrain from making all these comments, and simply respond that yes, I do walk in them, no my feet don't hurt, and no they're not hard to walk in. I should have this on tape so I can play it when people ask all of those questions, which happens a lot. My shoes have always gotten these questions, and generally I think they're pretty dumb, and self explanatory. If I couldn't walk in my shoes I would have fallen over, and I'll admit that it's happened, but not on a weekday. Yes, my feet sometimes hurt in crazy heels, and Chucks gave me blisters, so flat shoes can suck it because

The princess and the shoes

This weekend I spent some time with my niece. We let her parents go shopping, and I, who have been dubbed "Fairy Godmother" came over to hang out, play with toys, eat, feed the floor, and generally see what kind of trouble can be found. As soon as I walked in she was drawn to my shoes. They were my sequin flip flops (no heels for chasing baby), and she picked them up immediately. I let her play for a while, and then we moved on to playing with a stuffed dog, throwing pizza on the floor, and taking a walk to the park. Then today I got an email from my sister with a photo, "What did you teach her about shoes when you were here?" She's started pulling out all the shoes and playing with them, which apparently only happened since Saturday. And to my own amusement, according to the photo, the ones she keeps playing with are the Clarks . She's already developing higher-end taste. She probably didn't find any sequin covered shoes in there, but I know for a

In need of rain boots

The weather in Chicago has decided to match my mood, and it has started spontaneously starting and stopping raining, with thunderstorms imminent. In a great twist of irony, I wore my sunniest shoes ever today. Literally, they're yellow. And I have approximately one item of clothing that matches these shoes. Yellow, patent leather, open toe wedges from Delicious . I can't be mad about the fact that they only match one thing because they were on massive sale. Such a sale, that they're existence to wear with one shirt (which I got post shoe purchase) was totally justifiable. They also have an open white wedge, so it's kind of like wearable art. Sunny, wearable art. Unfortunately the lack of platform, open toe and patent leather-ness of the shoe is going to make my walk home a real bitch, because I'm sure the skies will open and I'll be sliding all over in my shoes, afraid of taking them off and stepping on a piece of glass, a needle, rusty nail, big rock...