When a quasi-sporadic jaunt had us regaling any amount of apathy, my lax interpretation of frugality was tested. I was supposed to be Christmas shopping, but the slightest notion only manifested a spending floodgate that swung wide-open… breaching all self-discipline. So there I was, attempting a silent negotiation, yes-no-no-yes. And just like that, the holier-than-thou shoe gods had me by Gheppetto’s strings, and were yet again exultant. In every conceivable (shoe predicament) way, it seemed a publicized threat to some bizzarro stylistic-existence, and obviously some things are beyond control.
In the silver lining, there’s an upside to this inadvertent gluttony because these powerhouse Maryjane’s--with their patent leather and subtle contrasting edge--will always be there, for all those untamed days ahead.
Seriously, there's more to me than just savage kicks... but in the words of Carrie Bradshaw, I suppose one day, "I will literally be the woman who lived in her shoes."
And I'm sending out cyberhugs and a smiling thank you to Confessions of a Doll, Mode Junkie, J'Adore Fashion, RiverMist Expressions, Song of Style, and Fashioncupcake ... for so thoughtfully thinking of me in the amazing award and tag arena.
Vest, Vintage. Heels, Bakers. Navy tights, Betsey Johnson. Scarf, India.