resistance is futile

Guess Maeve Boots. Unbridled. Lust. That describes my feeling for these. Pretty much ever since I saw the Topshop Emma Cook boots. I had to walk around in legit army combat boots for a emergency response program that I did for the past 4 years just about every weekend so I blame my love of manly dominatrix shoes on that. I also blame them for being 56% off, Laurel for looking amazing in them, and my math final that I would do just about anything to get out of studying for.

Oh dear, lots of blame in my life right now.

I am fully aware of all the crap I will get from people in my life for wearing these shoes. For example, my sister responded with "ew" when I sent her a picture and told me to at least get them in brown because "the black ones are too combat emo boot-y." We share DNA but not fashion sense.

I was greatly amused when in an enthusiastic user's review of the shoes, the woman claimed that she bought them for a hiking trip. She must not be married. That's all I can say.

I AM SO EXCITED FOR THESE TO COME. There was a certain thrill in getting the last pair in my size.

It is bad that material things bring me such joy? Ah well, first major shoe purchase calls for such excitement.. yes?


my feet barely touch the ground when i sit on this couch properly

My favorite kind of shoes are the fug kind.
These shoes are particularly horrific. It's as if some child was presented with a gorgeously delicate peep toe with a chunky heel and then proceeded to cover it in a tacky green corduroy fabric. And then the child mistook the shoe for its coloring book and drew huge tacky flowers all over it. Needless to say, I love these shoes.

They also have an adorable bow on the peep toe. I was going to make a punny blogpost title along the lines of 'little bow peep' Hee.

Dragged to San Francisco with a couple of prom-dress shopping desperate friends, I discovered these beauties in the clearance section of Ambiance marked down from $70 to a grand total of $4.23. Yes, it cost me almost as much as my Starbucks. Sometimes it pays to have an uncommonly huge shoe size.



Three inches. Or 7.62 cm if you happen to live somewhere that has a measuring system that makes actual sense. Which I do not. Why this seemingly arbitrary measure of distance? Well, to me, three inches is not insignificant. The Earth sank three inches under the weight of the Flooded Amazon back in 2005. There's a Canadian sextet called Three Inches of Blood that plays heavy metal music. Three inches is also the least amount of heel I agree to wear, before I turn to flats. However to me, three inches represents something I lack. In height. And if one more person decides to inform me that I should try out for the sub-5'7'' ANTM cycle, I will shank that person. And their mother. Welcome to my blog.

[photo credit - jakandjil]