It has been established that when it comes to feet, I am to shoes what Dolly Parton is to brassieres. That is, our cups runneth over, big time.
The challenge for me isn’t so much finding shoes that fit but rather ensuring they don’t make me: a) look like I’ve fastened boats to my feet; and b) fall on my face.
There was a time—back when shoes were first invented—that I willingly strutted around town in stilettos like it was no big thing. These days, sexy declarations such as Arch Support and Shock-Absorbing Heel are what make me swoon at the shoe store.
I have a pair of utilitarian heels to get me through most formal events; however, an upcoming Serbian wedding for 600 (and counting) guests had me heading to the mall in search of some shoes that could do my hoochie mama dress justice.
First up was a slip of leather with some ribbons attached:
It looked gorgeous on the shelf, but with my swollen size ten strapped into it, the result was Bambi meets drag queen:
I obviously needed something with a bit more structure to it. Something that would look good while I chased my kids after they’ve consumed hundreds of Serbian sweets. Something like this:
I know, right? They were sexy, stylish and I’d seen Gwen Stefani rockin’ a pair in US Weekly last month. Unfortunately, I couldn’t take a picture of me in them because—no joke—I fell over walking to the mirror.
After dusting myself off and assuring the cashier that I wouldn’t sue, I wandered around the store in a funk, staring longingly at the shoes I wanted to buy:
Which should come as no surprise considering what I wore into the store:
So what did I end up with?
Some might say it’s just another pair of utilitarian black heels, but they would be wrong. My new shoes are patent leather, therefore, they are fancy. The heel is too high for my granny, but not so high that I can’t run in them; which isn’t a consideration until you have a three-year-old with a penchant for public nudity. Most importantly, they are comfortable. Not as much as Tevas, but as close as I’m gonna get.