Cat in Heels

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...

There are some places on this earth you just shouldn't wear heels to. Hiking, ball games, picnics, the park. As much as I hate to admit it, there are places where they just don't make any damn sense, and generally I have something to accommodate the situation while still being fashionable. Bars should not be one of those places, but low and behold, I have found the anti-heels bar- 115 Bourbon Street. Now before judging me, let me just tell you it's not a place I frequent. It's far from my home, and generally sucks, but my fiance's neighborhood reunion was being hosted there, and so we attended, both dressed as if it's a regular Saturday night, which inevitably includes heels. That evening's choice being Aldo Mary Jane patent leather and suede stilettos. So in I walk, with my stiletto swagger and little butt shake that can only be accomplished in a pair of sky-high heels and pencil skirt, and this damn place stopped me dead in my size 7 tracks. I was...