Time Traveler--Pants Are NOT Optional, and Other Awkward Encounters

I was talking to someone the other day about "most embarrassing moments".  While I have a few that happened while I was a teen or adult (and some that can't even be told--yes, they're THAT bad), the one that stands out as my first "most embarrassing moment" will always be there for me.  Like so many other awkward childhood memories…and a couple of examples of WHY I could have forgotten to wear pants.

Me, Christmas 1979, in long johns, which apparently qualified as "pants", even when visiting my aunt

Here I am, Christmas 1978 at home, with my matching 'mini me'.  Did we EVER wear pants?

Anyhoo...

To fully appreciate this particular story, here is some background:  You should know that I grew up in the hippied-out 70s and early 80s, and we lived all back to nature, Mother-Earth-News style, for most of my childhood, so I didn’t have a lot of stuff that regular (or as I called them--"city") kids had.  Like running water or indoor plumbing.  Or electricity.  Or a car with any working gauges or seat belts.  Speak n' Spell.  Sidewalks.  TV.  Kraft mac n' cheese…*sigh*   Oh, sure…we were way more uptown than, say, my friends who lived in teepees and school buses (yes, really…), but still way, way beneath the other neighbors, who had TV, a real bathtub, skateboards (with cement to ride them on), a waterbed (be still, my heart), and 3-wheelers!  It was like lifestyles of the rich and famous over there.

They had things that looked like this
and ...

THIS.  Seriously.  I was in awe.

Those particular neighbors also had two sons slightly older than me.  We all went to the same church and, since they lived in our neck of the woods (yes, we called it that), we did a lot of social stuff together, like truly magical midnight sledding parties on New Years' Eve, Bible studies, and fireworks picnics on the 4th, (with actual explosives provided by another neighbor, a crazy Viet Nam vet who was a demolitions expert.)  Yeah… good times.

Anyway, we seemed to be at their house a lot, and their youngest son was my first official grade-school crush (and also my first real kiss, later on), which meant there was all that related angst going on for me, whenever we were there.

Their two boys and I weren't close enough to actually be friends, and I always felt painfully shy and awkward around them, because they just seemed like super-lucky rich kids to me.  I mean…skateboards?  TV?  Paved parking area?  I felt like a wild aborigine hairball from the back woods, whenever I was at their house.

Judging from the photos above, I wasn't really that far off, was I?

Of course our parents must have just figured, we're all kids, right?--so we must automatically be all fine hanging out together.  So we'd get there, and the moms would be all "OK..You kids go play…" and I'd be standing there like, "What? I don't even know these boys.  Why am I even HERE?" 

Their kitchen had THESE doors, so I couldn't even hide behind them

Also, dear readers, bear in mind than when I use the term "neighbors"…for that neighborhood, a "neighbor" was anyone within 2 miles.  This family was one mile away, so it wasn't like I could just walk home in a huff.

This particular family also were kind (or condescending?...or imposed-on?) enough to also allow us to use their bathtub every so often.  Yes…their bathtub.  And no, we didn't really know them well enough for this situation to be comfortable (for me, anyway).  But, you know, little hippie kids who live in houses without walls or water or lights tend to get pretty dirty, I imagine--so every week or so, I'd find my 9-year-old self sitting in this clean, beautiful, modern bathroom  (door securely locked), with the bathtub full of hot water right out of the faucet, wondering how I could possibly be casual about coming out of their bathroom with a towel on my head.  Like I could somehow manage to NOT look like I just used their tub. 

This kind of thing seemed SO fancy at the time

It was sort of surreal…like, wonderful to have that whole beautiful white bathtub to myself (instead of an outdoor shower), but at the same time, it was also super embarrassing to be 9 and still know that somehow you're being treated like some kind of charity case.  Or at least, that's how it felt to me…

All this to say that, you can imagine how much I struggled to maintain any dignity around those boys.  I didn't like them knowing I had used their bathtub.  I hated them for having TV to watch after school, and white bread for lunch.  I didn't know how to ride a skateboard, but I fooled them with that old childhood standby:  "Oh, I know how to ride a skateboard.  I just don't feel like it, right now."

Is is time to go home yet?

Which brings me to my First Most Embarrassing Moment. 

It was winter, and I don't know what the occasion was, but it was a gathering of a bunch of people at their house, so I'm thinking it was the Christmas or New Year's sledding party or something.   Mom was hurrying us to get ready, and everyone who lives where it's winter as a kid knows that you dress in layers if you're going to be outside sledding at night.  So, we dressed and piled in the van and went over there, with me already feeling anxious about going.  Any group of strangers (even neighbors), always made me feel like a shy, homely, little out-of-place freak (which I totally was).  Plus, I felt like they were all "There's that girl who uses our bathtub."

We walked in, and I took off my coat, and it must have seemed colder than I expected or something, because I remember looking down at my legs and seeing…JUST TIGHTS.  OH MY GOSH, WHERE ARE MY PANTS???  

I forgot... my... pants.  What the actual heck? What kind of hurry were we IN?

So, there I was, standing  in front of a whole holiday party of grownups and assorted kids who were all (I was sure) socially superior to me, wearing a shirt, my winter boots, and just…tights?!?  I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me, or the power to go out.  Anything.  I can't remember if anyone laughed, but I was sure they were. 

Guys.  Maybe I was just AHEAD OF MY TIME, right?

Yeah.  Well, back in my day day, that outfit was unheard of.

What I do remember is my mom and the hostess saying, "Oh, this is no big deal at all, honey.  You're about the same age as Daniel (their younger son).  We'll just get some of HIS pants for you to wear."  Yes.  Do that.  That will definitely make me feel better about this situation.  I can't remember what was worse, the idea of being there without pants (which felt only slightly less embarrassing  than standing there in front of everyone in just my flowery little-girl underwear), or the thought of borrowing this boy's jeans.  

They overruled my mortified and strenuous objections and got me a pair of this kid's jeans.  I remember having it made clear to me that of course a mile was too far to drive me back home to get my own pants. Why??  I don't even know, but I remember wondering what the heck, guys?? Just take me home, for the love of God.  You can just leave me there…But, no…I didn't get to go home.  Maybe it was a short party? Maybe I didn't make it clear how traumatic it was.  Maybe they seriously thought it wasn't that big of a deal…but it got worse.

The pants they brought me were huge on me.  I was built like a twig back then, so this boy's jeans seemed about one thousand sizes too big.  The grownups solved that problem by having someone handily fashion me a "belt", probably out of baling twine.  Seriously.  I reallyreallyreally remember it being rope of some kind, cinched up in a BIG, ATTRACTIVE KNOT.

So, there I was, with my best Christmas shirt and winter tights on, wearing what looked like Huck Finn's blue jeans, cinched up with a rope belt…all bunchy and baggy…ready to part-ay.

Like this, only not smiling.  And without the fun props.  Also, a GIRL

I was so embarrassed that I fled to their (fortunately somehow empty) TV room for the entire evening and hid myself by curling up on the corner of the couch in there for the whole evening, hoping no one would come in that room.  I don't think I moved from that spot all night. 

I survived it, of course, and now it seems funny, but this still stands out as my first public feeling of total humiliation, with the added embarrassment of being forced to wear my crush's pants.  I don't even remember the rest of the evening, what the party was about, or whether I wore his pants home--I bet I did.

Who knows if he ever got them back...

Something just occurred to me while writing this, which is that I have spent pretty much the rest of my life living in leggings and big t-shirts.  So, maybe I started a trend or something...(but please, learn how to wear them).

Isn't it strange how a couple of hours on one evening of one winter when you're 9 can stay with you forever? Ever show up somewhere TOTALLY dressed wrong?

Leggings are Not Pants...and Other Fashion Advice I Should NOT Have to Give

I always think, look, I totally shouldn't have to point any of this out, but there are some things that I guess have to be said, people. 

Maybe it's because I'm from the 80s, where the most out-of-line we ever got as teenagers was wearing too much makeup (Cyndi Lauper style), too many layers of bangles and scrunchy socks, and neon colors…Madonna wannabes that we were.   Also, there were shoulder pads.  But I have to say that, even then,  AT LEAST WE MATCHED THE NEON COLORS.  And we kept our butts covered, people.  Covered. 

(I almost said "Back in MY day" right there, but I'm not THAT old.)

Nowadays, I look around at what women are wearing, on purpose, in public, and I have to wonder--Did no one teach these girls the basics of coordinating articles of clothing, or how to dress to flatter their body type, or at least appropriately cover most of it in various social settings??  It always baffles me.   

I'm no fashion maven.  I don't shop (like, ever), or buy whatever's 'hot' this season.  But for crying out loud, it takes roughly the same amount of time to put on a matching outfit that flatters my figure (no matter what weight I currently am), as it does to throw on pajamas.  There's always a top and a bottom involved, and some shoes.  It's not rocket science to glance in a mirror and check to see that I don't have back-rolls lining up under my bra because my shirt or sweater is too snug for the amount of Christmas cookies I've eaten this year.  Muffin tops are not like vampires.  They DO show in a mirror; all you have to do is LOOK.  If you see one, those pants need to go in the "skinny jeans" pile until you don't see a muffin top when you put them on again--THEN, you can wear them out of the house.   No one wants to see that.  And covering the muffin top with a spandex top just makes it worse.  If you HAVE to wear those pants, for whatever reason, then at least join me in putting on a looser top as a clever disguise and make a vow to eat fewer cookies or start working out or something.

Soooo, in the interest of education and helpfulness (hey, it's Christmas, I'm here to help)...here is a list you can read, memorize, write on your hand, or print and hang on your bathroom mirror, as a reference guide, in case you're wondering whether that outfit is "fine" to go out the door in.  I can't believe I even have to say some of these, but if your moms or friends or every fashion magazine and store mannequin haven't helped you, then maybe THIS will. 

Here are a few of my Least Favorite Things:

1.  Leggings as pants.

This is just WRONG, even if you're a size 00

 I have been living in leggings straight thru since the 80s.  Every day, even before they came BACK into style.  Possibly before you were born.  Leggings and a long t-shirt are my uniform (at home).  I think I pretty much invented this outfit.  Here's the deal though:  Leggings are NOT. PANTS.  They aren't!!  The rule is…if you're wearing a skin-tight garment on the bottom; you balance it with something long and looser on the top.  If you wouldn't wear just nylons and a shirt to work…Apply that rule here.  No one wants to see you running around in just leggings, a waist-length t-shirt, stilettos, and a puffer vest (gag), no matter how cute your figure is. The only place I think anyone expects to see leggings all the way up is if you're starring in a workout video.  Shoe choices--Leggings look good with flats or the oh-so-common tall boots, but not with loafers, Keds, Crocs, or Uggs (more about shoes later).  High heels DO work if the top of the outfit is long and dressy--then the leggings become like tights and voila--flattering outfit.  So, basic rule of thumb with leggings:  Put them on and turn sideways in front of your mirror.  Your top should hang PAST YOUR BUTT.  It's iffy even if it's just right to the top of your thighs at the back…which is not quite long enough to be flattering, but the leggings-as-pants thing should really stop.  Just--ew.  Have mercy.

See this?  Yes--super cute

2.  Pajamas, sweats, or slippers.  In public.  No.  No, NO NO.  Unless you are riding in an ambulance, I guarantee you, you had time to put on regular clothes.  This is just lazy and sloppy beyond belief.  I get it--you don't "care what people think" about how you look.  How about YOU caring about how you look? No one wants to see your dirty sweats or Superman PJs hanging off your butt while you scuffle around the store in slippers that I wouldn't wear to wash my car in.  So, telling yourself it's OK because you don't care what we think…this tells me you are a rude and possibly inconsiderate person, which makes me like you less, even though we'll probably never meet.  Which is sort of sad.  Maybe you're not rude and inconsiderate, but all we're given is that one first impression of you, and "Rude Slob" is what this says to me.  Or, I should really quit going to Wal-Mart…

3.  Quit with those giant, stupid, furry boots that make you look like you cut the legs off a woolly mammoth and used them for leg warmers.  The 3" round furry puff-ball pompon things don't help either.  Actually…these boots don't work with anything.  There should be a boot-burning somewhere, and these should be the kindling. 

Somewhere a yak is running naked

Let's hit the beach! Wait--my feet are cold. 

4.  Boots with shorts.  (Triple demerits if they're the boots above).  I get it about the cute cowgirl thing, and on some girls (at the fair, in the summer, with the horses), the cowboy boots and cut-offs look *can* be cute.  But be careful it doesn't cross over into the WTH category.

5.  Dirty sneakers.  I don't…even--just, why.  Even clean sneakers, to me, scream soccer mom, which is a term I despise (even though I am crazy about my kids' sports games), so I avoid sneakers (even brand-spanking-new ones) unless I'm actually jogging or hiking or shooting hoops.  Wait.  I don't jog.  Cute Keds to a volleyball game, sure.  But sneakers, to me, just don't help any outfit, or at least very rarely.  They're for SPORTS.  I have too many fun summer shoes NOT to swap the sneaks for a cute sandal or a pair of flats.  Put on whatever you're wearing, and then put on the sneakers.  Then pull out your cutest heels or sandals and switch out the shoes.  See?  It changes the whole look, even if you're wearing jeans and a sweatshirt.  And yes, there ARE comfortable other options.  Sneakers, to me, just always say "I don't care; no one looks at my feet anyway".  Which segues into…

6.  Gym clothes when NOT inside the actual gym.  You work out.  Good for you.  But get dressed AT the gym.  It takes like one minute.  Unless you jogged to the store for some soy milk or electrolytes or something, we probably don't need to see this, either.  Toss the spandex in your gym bag and put on some jeans or even leggings before you leave…also see #1 above.

7.  Socks with sandals, or socks with Crocs.  Just--No.   This shouldn't even have to be explained; yet, many people do it.  So…officially:  NO SOCKS WITH SANDALS.  And Crocs are only acceptable (and then only barely) if you are in Home Depot, where you had to race over in the middle of a yard project to get that emergency bag of potting soil, and you are possibly still covered in garden dirt, and you literally did not have time to put on different shoes.  Even flip-flops would be better…  (Again, yes, I see a shoe theme here, but sorry, shoes really do change things).

Unless you have some scary foot disease, this = 50 lashes

8.  High heels.  Heels are sexy, no doubt about it.  They are fun to wear, and they accentuate nice legs and all that.  But--don't wear them if you can't walk in them.  You should be able to walk as if you're not IN heels, when you're in heels.  Comfortably and confidently.  If you're wobbling and tip-toeing along in them, you need to go to a shorter heel, or spend some time seriously practicing; otherwise, it's just embarrassing and we are afraid you might actually fall down.

9.  Spaghetti straps and sheer clothes.  2013 was like the year of sheer.  Maybe I'm being old-fashioned again, but when I was growing up and learning to dress myself, one of the cardinal sins was do not let your undergarments show EVER.  NEVER EVER EVER.  So the trend lately of spaghetti strap tank tops just kind of…shorts out my brain.  I'll be standing there with this super cute shirt, but…it has spaghetti straps.  My kids insist that it's totally OK if I just put this on over a bra and walk out the door.  But, my bra straps are then showing.  What the heck?  Do you see this?? My bra is showing.  That, to me, says white trashy to the max.  Next year will it be ok if our underwear are showing? (I won't even START on the guys with the pants hanging down…you guys look ridiculous; WHY don't you know this?!? See also #11.)  And those sheer tops are adorable, but then again, I'm always wondering, what do you wear under them (I know!--spaghetti-strap tank tops).  But then they'll also have some odd cut-out at the back, and there I am again--holding it up and peering through the hole at my kids and going, "WHAT do you wear under this? This hole is right where my bra hooks would be."  And they're like, "Yeah…so?"  

Whatever.  

10.  Flares.  Wide-leg pants.  Bell bottoms.  Different names for the same hideous garment.  I don't know what fashion designer ever lied to us enough to get us to believe that there is a body type ever born that looks flattering in flares.  I hated them in the 70s, even in 2nd grade, and I have hated them ever since.  Women's legs have a lovely tapered shape.  When you put a pair of bell-shaped pants on, they exactly reverse the contour of our legs.  Shorter legs look even shorter--stumpy and wide.  Long legs look like the bottom of a cypress tree or an upside-down mushroom.   A nice straight leg will always look longer and more attractive.  I'm always partial to a tapered leg, because that's the shape my leg IS, but straight is OK too.  Flares don't flatter anyone, and the sooner we all revolt against them, the sooner they might go the way of kaftans and tall headdresses.

11.  Low-rise jeans.  Ok.  Again--I may be old-fashioned, but womens' waists (you know, the part where we are the narrowest?) is way up there, above our hips.  Remember the hourglass analogy?  The midpoint is NOT on the bottom half of the hourglass--just saying.  Jeans that sit with a waistband accentuating our widest point, aside from being a pain in the ass (pun intended) to keep UP, bend over in, or sit down in, are just not flattering.  Some slimmer girls who are still 100 pounds soaking wet can pull this off, but if you have curves or have had kids (or stretch marks), you have probably already realized that these are not for you (or me).  These can be cute on the right figure, but make sure you HAVE that figure before trying these.  You also might be surprised how much more flattering a higher rise can be--a flatter stomach and a defined waistline come to mind…Also please, for the love of God, if you are going to wear these, check when you bend over, to make sure we are not subjected to a view of half your underwear and/or that tattoo that screams "Classless" across your low back.  You'll also be glad you missed the cringes of horror as the rest of us Grown-Ups are forced to look away from that and any muffin top above the sparkle-pocket pants you swiped from your teen's closet.

Your homework for this week is to get dressed, then go and LOOK IN THE MIRROR.  Full length.  All sides.  Is your butt covered?  Do you need a softer fabric or a looser shirt so those confidence-killing bra-bumps or back rolls don't show? Is that a stain on your shirt? Does your 15-year-old need her jeans back?  Take a minute to fix these things before you go out--you'll feel better; we'll feel better.  It's a win-win.

I know.  It's a lot to take in.

P.S. -Disclaimer--In case you're wondering, "wow, this chick is shallow"…Yep--This is me at my most shallow and ranty.  Although I do believe in taking care to look at least somewhat pulled together, I'm not a fashion freak (at all)--More of a leggings and t-shirt, stay-at-home kind of girl, and I'm usually barefoot (go figure).

I have had sort of an overload of regular grown-up stress lately, and 2013 has been an especially hard year--sort of just one long series of "I can't believe that just happened" kind of stuff, none of which needs to be shared with, oh, the wholeentireworld.  Since sarcastic joking is my way of dealing with pretty much everything, and I don't feel like adding to the general angst at Christmas, I thought I'd throw in a rant about fashion instead.   After all, I was a very snappy dresser, back in the 80s.

Hey, Maybe New Shoes CAN Change Your Life

Or at least the landscape of your closet.

I actually have a magnet to that effect on my stove.  Thanks, Mom.  I like the juxtaposition of the shallowness of that sentiment, combined with my intense geeky love of history books, all things garden-y and organic, and the fact that I almost NEVER SHOP EVER for myself.  NEVER EVER EVER.

But I do have a love affair thing with new shoes.  It's part of the magic that is me.

Inspired by the BOGO Sale at Payless last night, and with some time to kill waiting to pick up my oldest, who just got a job at the mall, I realized that, even with my large collection of needless but fun and sometimes totally unnecessary shoes, I don't have any brown boots.  Or booties.  And it was a sale, people.  Come on.

So...This:

Yay, no more black boots with EVERYTHING

and...This:

I'm in love with these, with jeans.  

But my point is:  Do you ever notice that when you bring home something new, suddenly you feel like EVERYTHING ELSE MUST BE REARRANGED RIGHT THIS MINUTE.  Also, many garments seem to be screaming, "throw me out already, for the love of Pete, woman!"

I was just going to put my new shoes away in the closet, when I started thinking that, you know, I have clothes that I haven't worn since George Bush was president.  And I don't mean W.  Why is that? Well, first, probably because THEY DON'T FIT, DUMMY, WHY ARE YOU KEEPING THESE?  YOU WILL NEVER FIT IN THAT AGAIN BECAUSE YOU SUCK AT LOSING WEIGHT!!!  hahaHAHAHAHA

To justify some of them--you never know when I might suddenly need a great pants suit with built-in shoulder pads, or those 5 really stunning sequined floor-length evening gowns.  Especially now that I'm a retired stay-at-home gardening occasional blogging wife and mother who spends her spare time canning and reading, in leggings and an oversized t-shirt, and now, also--possibly--trawling the (gasp) mall with time to kill.

aieeeee

Maybe it's just that it's really fall, that season of change.  Maybe it's that I realized these clothes will a) NEVER fit or b) never be part of what we like to call a "Pinterest-y outfit".  Ever.  Or maybe I'm just sick of the overflow and need to make some room. 

Anyhoo--It's time to go through my closet and do some ruthless downsizing.  If I haven't worn it since 2002, it needs to GO.  No matter how cute it was, or is. 

Also, I may always be this size that I am, right now, so those old skinnier-self clothes also need to go.  If I suddenly wake up one morning 20 pounds lighter without having had my arm amputated or something, I'll treat myself to some new clothes. 

Ok, that's all.

But I do LOVE my new shoes today.  Have a great weekend!

Public Service Memo on Ugly Shoes

I love shoes.  Not in the sense that I will spend lots of money per pair, but in the sense that I have lots of pairs.  I'd way rather have ten pairs of $20 shoes than one pair of $200 shoes, because that just seems boring.  But, they do have to be cute...And I'm not saying I have lots of shoes, as in, I have 5,000 pairs and I had to build a whole room to hold them.  It's more like 100 pairs, give or take, so don't be all thinking I'm a shoe freak.  I also am not against expensive lovely shoes, but I don't have the budget (or the conscience) for that.  Even if I was rich, I'd still probably collect cheap shoes.  I do have a few pairs that were (gasp) over $100 each, but I qualify that by saying that they were way on sale.  I think one pair was so discounted that they were free, or I actually got money back or something.  So, it hasn't broken the bank to collect a nice assortment of fun colorful shoes.  Here's some of the "summer shoes"...

 On a side note, unfortunately, since I quit being *out there* in the wedding industry, I noticed many of my cute shoes this summer sat sadly unworn, because I only went to the beach and the grocery store.  Oh sure, there are the stand-by favorites I always wear (and yes, they're still cute), but they were mostly...black, brown, or silver.  All the fun colored shoes just sort of hung out, unworn, and now it's September, which means it's time to revert to boots, booties (I have tons of those), and my standby Clark's again.  I have to reverse the shoe hangers in the closet so the Fall things are up front and Summer things are in the back, or stored away til next year.  That's always sort of a sad ritual...

 fall-ish shoes, waiting for rotation to the front

When I was younger, I used to only have like 4 pairs of shoes.  One black.  One brown.  Some cowboy boots.  Some sneakers.  That was pretty much it.  Then I bought some flats for summer.  Then I started wearing heels again, just because I LIKE HEELS and I wasn't packing a baby on one hip any longer...Then I bought some cute sandals, in a couple of colors, to match different dresses.  Pretty soon, I was buying new shoe cubbies for my closet, and that's how it happened.  It sort of...grew.  But if you go in Payless anytime, you're absolutely bound to see something super cute, and they're like 12 bucks, so you think--Sure, why not?

Yay, fall booties!!

 A few years ago, however, I noticed that... not everyone must feel this way, judging from the huge assortment of flat-out ugly shoes I started noticing around me.  So I started sort of paying attention, and I realized...WHY do these shoes even exist?  I get it, that some shoes are just really really really comfortable, or you have to wear a certain shoe for work (like nurses), or they're for safety (construction workers), or you have athelete's foot and don't want your toes showing in summer, or WHATEVER.  But, why wear ugly shoes?  Who's making these shoes? If you must wear a sneaker with mom jeans and a T-shirt (and, for the record...heels will TOTALLY change the outfit.  Just sayin'), then why does it have to be some jacked up, roughed up, scuffed up, clod-hopper of an old no-name "sport" shoe??  Or Crocs (which go especially nice with socks--not). Did you just get off a treadmill somewhere, and forget to bring real-person shoes with you to put on before you dashed in the grocery store on the way home?  Do you seriously not have $12 to go get a cute flat or sandal?  Do you actually just not care?  I always want to ask people.

Rocky beach--yes.  Grocery store--NO!!

I see people in totally normal clothes all the time, and then you're standing there, sort of vacantly looking at them because that's where your head is pointing at the moment, and then your eyes drift down towards the floor (for no apparent reason), and you are startled to see...black aqua-sock-looking orthopedic sandals the size of waffle irons strapped on this otherwise normal-looking woman's feet.  Did she just get back from a not-quite-barefoot hike on the beach and put her nice cardigan and pants on OVER these shoes?  Did she just have open-toe surgery??  I can't help but stare.  Or at least my eyes sort of pop out a little, before I quickly look away, in case she sees me, ogling her shoes.  What are you looking at?  uhhhh, you have...waffle irons on your feet.

They sort of jar me.  They hurt my eyes a little.  Do not mistake me:  I'm not a total fashion freak.  I don't read Vogue.  I don't follow trendy designers, or what the Kardashians have on their feet.  I don't even have TV.  But I know, I just...KNOW...that these shoes do not belong at the grocery store.

(do I even need to say how bad these look?  But I do wear these, every day, in the garden)

Here's an exercise to make my point.  Put on whatever you're wearing today, even if it's old jeans and a t-shirt.  Put on casual shoes.  NO, not those frumpy old sneakers that were great for P.E. in 1987.  Keds, maybe.  Or even a cute pair of flats.  Stand in front of a full-length mirror and view the whole outfit (you should do this every time you get dressed, too, but that's a topic for another time).  Now put on a pair of heels or cute sandals and check the mirror again.  Voila--whole different look! 

See? These are cute AND comfortable...

Now, take it to the next level:  Go put on your highest heels, the ones you wear when you want to rock a dress or an event, no matter how much they hurt, and check again.  See what I mean?  It's shallow, but cuter shoes will make you feel more confident, even in jeans and a t-shirt, I promise.  Try it.

this...

...NOT this:  

I'm not saying you should hit Costco in 5" heels (though I've done it, and yes, it hurt).  But at least try a cute 2" wedge or a jeweled flip-flop.  My old wedding vendor/dressy occasions went without saying, and I definitely pulled out the 5" heels for those.  But I also drove home barefoot afterwards, and usually had flats in the car so I could, if need be, stop and grab milk on the way home without the suffering of high heels, but also without being that lady walking around the store in aqua-socks and a cocktail dress.  Because you know that's when you're going to run into the ex-boyfriend you haven't seen since highschool.  Awkward.  Then you have to talk fast and use lots of hand gestures, while standing behind an end-cap of on-sale BBQ sauce and hoping he doesn't look down.  OMG, do NOT look at my feet!

I. don't. even.--what? Is that horse-halter material??

I know that heels can be very painful to wear (yet, we wear them anyway).  I know that some people can NOT wear any kind of heel or non-supportive shoe, but I also know there are cute options out there.  Just please, leave the gym shoes at the gym (or in the car).  And, if it looks like it has tire-rubber anywhere on it...don't buy it to start with. 

Or, maybe I should just never look down.  Ever--

On a P.S. note:  If you reading this and thinking Geez, lady, there are people in the world who can't afford a SINGLE PAIR of shoes, no matter what they look like; yes, I know that.  You're probably reading the wrong blog, if you came here thinking I'm trying to solve world issues.  The things I muse about here are, by nature, more or less shallow and fun, on purpose.