My afternoon meeting got canceled so I spent my gained freedom doing something extremely productive: browsing fall fashions online. Perfect timing because the storm hovering off the coast has made for a very cool and grey week, putting me right mindset to think about cozy cashmere sweaters, riding boots and wool coats. This is the first time out of several seasons that fall fashion has me excited. Gone are those awful sack dresses and 80s revival looks of last season. I saw some serious tailoring in the new line-up and a nostalgia for 50s and early 60s. Very Mad Men.
I met a friend for drinks after work then had to run to Target for a few things (me in Target... shocker, I know!) Inspired by my afternoon research, I answered the sirens call of the clothing and shoe departments. As I was debating whether the ruby red high heeled spectator-ish Mary Janes were really my style, I heard a girl in the next aisle exclaiming to her friend, "Oh My God! These are so bizarre... but I kinda like them... but what a weird material... aren't these like so wacky?" I rolled my eyes and grabbed the box of 7 1/2s. You never know until you try, right? I made my way over to the mirror, trying to ignore the increasing louder chatter from one aisle over.
Once the shoes were on my feet, I had to laugh and suppress the sudden urge to click my heels together and murmur "There's no place like home."
All I need is a basket to put Toto in
I met a friend for drinks after work then had to run to Target for a few things (me in Target... shocker, I know!) Inspired by my afternoon research, I answered the sirens call of the clothing and shoe departments. As I was debating whether the ruby red high heeled spectator-ish Mary Janes were really my style, I heard a girl in the next aisle exclaiming to her friend, "Oh My God! These are so bizarre... but I kinda like them... but what a weird material... aren't these like so wacky?" I rolled my eyes and grabbed the box of 7 1/2s. You never know until you try, right? I made my way over to the mirror, trying to ignore the increasing louder chatter from one aisle over.
Once the shoes were on my feet, I had to laugh and suppress the sudden urge to click my heels together and murmur "There's no place like home."
All I need is a basket to put Toto in
Weak from laughter and the dizzying height of the Dorothy shoes, I almost wiped out as the magpies from the next aisle pushed their way over to the mirror. They were about 16, so I was already feeling the generational divide. Their shrieking and the fact that they almost knocked me over without remorse didn't shrink the gap. As I was changing back in to my shoes, they kept debating the merits of what they were trying on. Upon glancing down at their feet, I had a horrible flashback...
NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!
NOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!
Dear God! I hate Jellies. After 10 solid seconds of hearing "I dunno... they are kinda comfortable.. but they are so weird... who ever thought of these?... aren't they the weirdest shoes you have ever tried on?", I decided to revel in my old lady status and dispense a pearl of wisdom. "They are Jellies," I told them, "and they fall apart in a few weeks... but only after they have inflicted the worst blisters known to mankind because they make your feet sweat something awful. I can't believe I ever wore those."
Was my helpful advice met with gratitude? Sure... if by thanks, you mean vacant stares and lips curled with slight disgust. I hope they bought those ugly ass shoes and get the biggest, gnarliest blisters possible. Brats!
But, then again, would you take advice from a lady wearing a pair of Dorothy shoes?
Was my helpful advice met with gratitude? Sure... if by thanks, you mean vacant stares and lips curled with slight disgust. I hope they bought those ugly ass shoes and get the biggest, gnarliest blisters possible. Brats!
But, then again, would you take advice from a lady wearing a pair of Dorothy shoes?
