So, what you’re looking at are my big feet (which my Dad always teasingly told me were like a clowns ::frowing::). I wear a size ten. I can’t change this, I’m not sure I would because I like my feet for the most part, except when I can’t find my size. Size five and ten are on the outer limits of a shoe line up and therefore, stores are offered only one or two boxes of these sizes instead of the three or four they get in size eight. It’s an injustice, I know. ::shaking head:: I wore these pieces of art to work today. Let’s see if I get away with it. As in, what colleague might procure the most awkward “compliment”. Plastic shoes are a bit “out-there” I suppose.
What did I say? Gilt.com can be a PROBLEM. Hence, the plastic Vivienne Westwood Melissa shoes. With bows. These shoes have surprisingly good padding, which I wish more women’s shoe manufacturers would use in their shoes. I can’t imagine how much less pain I’d be in if more designers would jump on the designing-for-comfort-and-function shoe wagon. However, I think this is how Crocs came about, and maybe loafers, also Uggs (which it turns out might give you a pigeon walk, if not a penguin. It’s all that shuffling. I pity the sorority girls in their denim skirts). It’s not pretty; but damn, there’s gotta be a way to work a shoe that’s beautiful and one you can walk in for eight hours. We’ll see if I still love these at the end of the day, or if they end up making my feet sweat.
NO SAINTS IN L.A. 