A Woman of My Word

I talked to dear little Eugene on Skype today.  We discussed many things about her first week in Paris, the most important of those being the shopping of course.  She showed me her latest finds, one of which was a pair of shoes.  Men’s style, smoking slippers in cheetah print.  They will look adorable on her because she has narrow feet and a high arch so even though they are based on a men’s style shoe, her feet won’t look manly in them.  Seeing my favorable reaction, Eugene asked me if I might want a pair.  I had considered this a while back when this style starting appearing in stores here and had come to the conclusion that my less narrow and less-arch-y feet might not look so cute in these shoes, but instead rather manly.  Eeek.

So I told Eugene that I would be passing on smoking slippers, but to let me know if she found any pretty blouses.  Surely those won’t look masculine on me.

Not two hours later, I was at the mall shopping for some black pants for work when I somehow found myself in the 65% off shoe racks at Dillards.  I really have no idea how these things happen.  I think it has something to do with a gravitational pull.   Some sort of fundamental law of physics pertaining to women and shoes.  I believe it’s called Prada’s law.

 

Anyway, I was circling the 7/7.5 rack like a lioness on the hunt for food for her cubs, when I ran across these little smoking slipper gems.  I had seen them when they first hit stores a few months back.  I had picked them up, swooned, considered the manliness factor, decided they might not be so bad due to their colorfulness, sequins, and hint of animal print, and then I put them back on the display because I couldn’t justify such a novelty purchase when I needed more basic and versatile shoes for work.  

When I came across them again this evening, I was still on the hunt for practical shoes for work, but these shoes were much more enticing and justifiable at 65% off.  I put them on with my black yoga pants.  They didn’t look half-bad.  I shook my head, telling myself that these were superfluous.  Very fun, but certainly not what I need right now.  I put them back on the shelf and walked around trying to find some basic black wedges, which have proven to be impossible to find this year. 

 

Black wedge-less, I kept finding myself in front of the semi-manly, awesome shoes and I kept telling myself that I really didn’t need them.

But it didn’t matter.  Because you just can’t say no to fabulous.  

 

Precisely two hours and fifteen minutes after telling my sister that I didn’t want any smoking slippers, I purchased smoking slippers.  

Clearly, I’m a woman of my word.

I can’t wait until Eugene reads this.  I predict a lot of head-shaking.

Y’all stay fabulous,

Sugarlump

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10 thoughts on “A Woman of My Word

  1. Just when I was gaining confidence in some of my picks, I see this. It’s a setback for me. I would have voted wrong here. You will look fab though!

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