I'm not a shoe person. I have a total of maybe 10 pairs--not including my two pairs of running shoes, which I consider something more like necessary equipment than stylish footwear.
The black strapy heels that I wore to the million dollar wedding I bought 11 years ago to go with a dress I wore on my honeymoon. Jillybaby had a very minor stroke when she heard this. Then she made me buy a pair of black ankle boots to wear to the million dollar cocktail party the night before the million dollar wedding.
"They're very now," she said, "Very practical. You'll get loads of use out of them."
So I bought the black ankle boots--even though they looked almost exactly like a pair of black ankle boots I wore when I was in the 7th grade--a place I swore I would never revisit--and in doing so, I fear I may have awoken something primeaval in my nature. Something carnal. Something drooling. Something controlled not by reason or logic, but by pure, unadulterated, craven lust.
'Want' does not even begin to describe my desire for these boots:
Can someone please explain to me why all the pretty shoes cost more than $200?