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Showing posts from June, 2012

Getting to the Point

Trends of all kinds come and go, and women's heels seem to cycle through trends faster than other things. Like women's clothes, or men's clothes, or men's shoes (which don't really change at all). Pointed toe shoes are back, this time with a popularity and power not seen since the last time they were declared the hot shoe, which was about 10 years ago.  These Bakers heels are on my wish list. Also known as just long enough for me to have gotten rid of all the ones I was holding onto, so now I need to repopulate my collection.  The first ones that managed to walk back into my collection, did it rather unwittingly. It was a pair of blue snakeskin, Fergie Footwear Protest pumps. I had been watching them for a while, and then found them in a lightening trip to DSW.  When I got them home and slipped them on, I instantly fell in love with the pointed toe heels all over again. They create a great silhouette, elongating the leg and foot, they're ea

Heel Height is Just a Number

One of the most commonly asked questions I get is what height are the heels I most commonly wear. I wish that was an easy question to answer. I have heels of all different heights. Everything from kitten heels to 6" stilettos with the mother of all platforms. A smattering of some standards. Now granted, I don't wear the kitten heels, which is kind of a shame because they're a great pair of Kenneth Cole , zebra phony hair sandals. But with a heel that short and my 5'4" frame I look like a hobbit playing dress up. I should probably get rid of them, but they're pony hair. And zebra. You can't just get rid of zebra. Or Kenneth Cole . Most of my heels are somewhere between 3" and 5" and they serve all kinds of purposes. Some of them are for running errands, some for work, some exclusively for going out (because my Iron Fist Zombie Stompers aren't really work appropriate) and others are used for everything. Some of them have a platform

Sassy Shopping Fashion Bash

The Fashion Bash is one hell of a party. Sparkles and brass knuckles Aside from the blasting dance music (yeah Madonna), the vendors, swag bag and food, there's also the booze. Sure it was supposed to just be samples, but by the time the other bloggers and I made our way through the racks to the Real Russian booth it was shots all around. Hosted by the Sassy City Chicks at Venue One in Chicago, I got my invite through the fab Chicago Blogger Network , who does a great job of letting bloggers know when something cool and relevant is going on, and making sure we get invites. Tons of jewelry and clothes, this shopping event was surely one to behold, and should not have been missed by a die-hard shopaholic. Most of the jewelry was amazing, unique pieces that truly were one of a kind. The Real Russian shot guy Clothes were all over the place too, and while there were more than a few pieces I fell in love with, nothing that ended up coming home with me. By 7:00 the

Tourist's Shoes and No Heels

While I was in New Orleans I remarked on how flip flops are the unofficial shoe of the tourist. They were everywhere. From cemeteries to bars, breakfast lunch and dinner, casual and formal, apparently flip flops are the only thing you're supposed to wear. It's the flip flops with dresses that threw me. And I'm not being a nasty bitch here. I mean I am but I'm not. I'm not talking about sandals that happen to have the same style as flip flops, but have some kind of beading or are made of leather. I'm talking about $5, drugstore, unadorned, plastic flip flops. Then there were Crocs. Just kill me. The one good sidewalk in the city, and they leave metal sticking out. The crazy thing about the whole city though was that every store I saw was not only void of flip flops (which means people all bring their own), but void of heels in general. Unless of course it was a stripper store at which point there were heels, but they weren't the kind you wear wa

Land of Booze and Cobblestone

I love to travel. And I get to do some for work, but it generally involves seeing an airport and a hotel, and sightseeing on my lunch hour. This is where these stayed.  In other words, it kinda sucks. Last week I finally got to take a real vacation and I went to New Orleans with my husband and a couple of friends. Land of voodoo, Cajun food, street performers, Bourbon Street, debauchery and cobblestone sidewalks. Those last two don't go well together. I've been there twice before, so I really should have remembered that you can't walk anywhere on a flat surface, but apparently I was too drunk to remember anything. I can't even use the excuse that it was a long time ago, because I was there last year. Lucky for me I packed a few pair of wedges of varying heights, and the one pair of stilettos I brought for the nice night out ended up staying in the suitcase. Between the cobblestone, stumbling drunks, bizarrely curved streets, and the fact that every piece o

Like Me, Love Me

Tonight is not about shoes. Well, it is because everything I do is about shoes, but it's kind of not. It's about Facebook . And how they're now a money-making corporation. As everyone who has a page for their blog or business now knows, Facebook is trying to build profits and make money off pages. Now unless people specify they want to see your page in their feed, it only appears there if you "promote" the post. And by promote they mean pay. This is what you need to do Seeing as how Cat in Heels makes me little to no money, and Facebook can't be paid in shoes (which is what I spent all my money on), I'm asking you to make sure you have selected to have Cat in Heels appear in your news feed. To do this you simply hover over the "Like" button and have "Show in news feed" checked. If you don't then you'll miss out on my snark, wit, drivel, bullshit and tons of pictures of my shoes. You can also catch most of that

Flip Flopping Through the Streets

Summer is the time of street festivals, outdoor music fests, walks to parks, the beach, farmer's markets, and pretty much everything else that is even vaguely within walking distance (so long as it's not raining). This weekend street festival season started for me with the first of many in my neighborhood. So I rounded together them family, put Thor in his bag (yes, my dog rides around in his own bag) and set out for hot day full of fried, bad for you food, beer, vendors galore, music, more dogs, people and children. The kid's section of the festival was separated so we managed to avoid them pretty well, and instead wandered between grilled sweet corn, some fabulous accessories, dog treats, and music. Finally we grabbed a falafel, found a spot on the curb, and sat down for food, music and people watching, and at that level you get an eyeful. I bet their feet are so gross! Now I know how my dog feels. While Thor was busy begging falafel and drinking spilled beer ou