Cat in Heels

I decided this winter I needed silver shoes. That makes sense, right? I didn't have any, I just bought this great gray-silver silk button down, and the whole look would be perfect for the holidays. It's also freakishly easy to find metallic heels around the holidays. But I procrastinated. I saw shoes I liked, and put it off. Then they were out of stock on my size. I saw other shoes that were great, but open toe, and I wanted a closed toe. Others were amazing but out of my price range. Too sparkly, not sparkly enough, too dark, too shiny. I want something that looks like I have mirrors on my feet, now I want something subtle that I can wear to work. My totally basic silver pumps On and on this stupid mind game went until I saw a pair on massive sale, bit the bullet and ordered some classic silver pumps with a closed toe, platform, and 5 inch heel. Unfortunatly I also waited so long that they didn't get to me in time for Christmas. So yesterday I walked in and my hu

It’s the holidays. To most people that means an additional 10 pounds and the excuse to dress like that crazy aunt from your childhood who always wore too much perfume and was never at a holiday party without head to toe sparkles and velvet on. Right now, I am telling you that is no longer going to fly (and I'm pretty sure I'm becoming that crazy aunt). These Louboutin's are not just for Christmas Now it's time to embrace the crazy, sparkly side of yourself. Right now, raise your right hand and swear to me that you are not going to buy some dress or shoes make of sequins and glitter just for Christmas and New Year’s, only to then abandon it in all it's glittery glory to collect dust somewhere in the recesses of your closet, right next to the collection of clothes that you can't return because you can't figure out where they came from. If you have the balls to wear glitter, sequins, and otherwise channel the Times Square ball at the holidays, you h

I love being told about comfy shoes. Believe it or not this happens to me a lot; as in a couple times a week. It's usually led up to with someone saying, "Oh my god. I love those shoes but I could never walk in those. How do you walk in those? Don't your feet hurt? My feet hurt just looking at your feet in those shoes." Well, sorry that your feet are so damn sensitive that they hurt just looking at my shoes, but seriously, grow a pair. They're my shoes, not yours. I didn't walk up to you and ask how you could possibly show your face in public while wearing Crocs , and those are way more offensive than the highest heel I own. I wear these because they match my pants.  After I explain that yes, my feet feel pain, and yes, I am insane enough to choose the way I look over comfort, and yes, I realize that may not always be the case but I am not ready to give into something "comfy" I get a look like I'm insane and obviously don't know what I

Dental work is never fun. Well, maybe it's fun for some people, but not for me. So I can't say I got real dressed up this last Friday when I had to be at the periodontist for gum surgery when I normally would be going to work. So there I am, shaking and terrified. Fumbling with my iPod, which is some kind of crappy attempt to not hear the work going on inside my own mouth, and suddenly the dental assistant scoots her chair in front of me and looks me straight in the eyes.  Let's talk about your shoes.  "I love those shoes." Ummm...thanks? It's 9:00 am, and I'm almost in tears waiting for you and your masochist doctor to put me into more pain than my mouth has ever been in, I look like crap, am not wearing makeup, and you want to talk about my shoes.  That would happen to me.  Forty-five minutes later I walked out of the office, feeling my jaw steadily swelling, and fearing the pain that would smack me in the face the second my Novoc

I was never this cool. Neon really tears me apart. It brings mental images of braces, tall fried-out bangs, Aqua Net and my awkward phase. Neon is my reminder of that time in life they make crappy tween shows about, except I was WAY less glamorous. At the same time, neon is Jem , The Misfits (Jem's rival not the real punk band) and Barbie and the Rockers , Cyndi Lauper and everything that was (and probably still is) so much cooler than me.  So far I have avoided the neon revival, fearing that the second I place a piece on my body the gap in my teeth will magically appear, my bathroom will fill with Paul Mitchell and Aqua Net products, my hair will no longer be awesome, and my tits will get smaller. They come in multiple colors The other side of me wants to embrace it and add the neon pieces to my wardrobe, and live out some kind of Barbie and the Rockers fantasy where I look great in everything no matter how asinine it may be, all my friends are equal

In case you haven't been following my tweets over the last week, I've been traveling. A lot. As in less than 72 hours at home this weekend before I went back to the office and then to the airport. Now I'm in a hotel in San Francisco and my husband and dog are forgetting who I am. Just high enough to keep my hem from dragging. And before you start thinking this is all glamorous, let me tell you, it's not. I do not get to see the city I am in. I don't have time to shop, or visit (assuming I know anyone in the city which is rare). My days start before the sun comes up and end after it goes down. None of which makes any difference because I rarely get to see a window and actually bear witness to the fact that the sun came out. Hell, it may not have come out at all. Makes little to no difference to me. All the traveling causes shoe issues. What does one wear when you're going to be tearing around airports and standing for hours at a time? Something professio