Call me Imelda!

Seventy.  I own seventy pairs of shoes… and I don’t see a damn thing wrong with that.  I have always loved shoes. Frankly, 70 pairs is probably the least pairs of shoes I’ve owned since the time I was able to pick out my own shoes.  

I Love SHOES.  All kinds. All colors.  All price ranges.

Shoes are beautiful.  They are art. They are magic.  Hell, they are practically unicorns for your feet.

When my pants don’t fit – my shoes still fit.

When I’m not loving an outfit – my shoes can take it up to 11.

When I’m not feeling well – my shoes comfort me.  Well, my slippers, but you get the point.

Some people have power suits… I’ve got power shoes.  I stand a little taller, walk a little sassier and kick a little higher.  Good luck to the person that decides to cross me when I’m wearing my power shoes! (And no, I’m not going to reveal which pair that is!)

My alter ego lives in black dresses on red carpets – my shoes still live somewhere over the rainbow!  Those yellow Calvin Klein’s with the bow! Ooooh… and those teal, tie-up Seychelles!

I fully admit… I judge people based on their shoes.  I judge and I’m comfortable with it. There’s a big difference between “I wear ugly shoes and I don’t care” and “I hate it but I need to wear these ugly shoes.”  Its real.

Once, I decided not to move in with a guy (just a roommate) because I had serious questions about his shoes.

I’ve definitely said “No, thanks” to more than a few guys at the bar because of sub-par footwear.  

While money can buy you some really, REALLY nice shoes, I don’t believe that the magic a shoe possesses can be equated to its price.  I mean, sure, I don’t own a pair of Manolos (yet!) but I’ve paid more than my fair share to the shoe gods and still gotten blisters. And, by the same account, I’ve bought some “house favorites” at Target, and they have provided more memories than I can count.

I’m an equal opportunity shoe lover!

And, let’s be real…  if some guy legitimately walked up to me in a bar and opened with “Nice shoes, wanna fuck?”  Let’s be clear… I’d think about it. What shoes am I wearing right now? How good is his taste? How ironic do I think he’s being?


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