Love these looks? Look no further!
Jessica Simpson
The Delma Janis
Lauren Conrad
Hillary Duff
Anne Hathaway
The Corso Como Boca
Author Archive for Team Tess
04
Nov
09
Tess Tuesday: Celeb Style
I was invited to my very first wedding at the age of seven, that of a distant cousin whom I had no recollection of meeting but I knew, from the wedding invitation, that he existed. Upon learning of my cousin’s existence and his imminent nuptials, I began dreaming of a beautiful gold dress, with ruffles and taffeta, lace and brocade paired with a tasteful tiara and black patent leather ballet flats. (I was seven, living in New Jersey, and it was the early nineties—there’s no accounting for taste.) I related my pageant-worthy costume choice to my mother, but only got as far as the taffeta before her face fell into an “I feel sort of bad for you, but you’re ridiculous” grimace. “Laura,” she said, somewhat gently, “This is a daytime wedding.” What that had to do with anything, I hadn’t a clue, but the point was that my dress was not appropriate. “You’ll wear a suit.”
She whisked me away from my cartoons the following Saturday morning to shop at Saks for this ill-fated suit. I sat in the back seat, pouting all the way for the loss of my delusions of grandeur, and maybe a little because I wasn’t allowed to sit in the front. We were greeted at Saks, with offensive enthusiasm by Carol, who had gone ahead and picked out a bunch of suits for me. As we walked through the beautiful party dresses in a parade of crushed dreams, I couldn’t help but wonder why anyone else didn’t find it preposterous that a child would wear a suit. At seven, I looked up at two grown adult women and thought, “You want a child to wear a suit. And I’m the ridiculous one? ” But sure enough I began trying on suits. We finally go to one that had a nice top (a cream vest lined with black satin) but I was wearing pants with it and worked up the nerve to put my foot down. “I saw a skirt out there that goes with this. Can I please wear the skirt?” My mother agreed and I handed her the pants.
“Carol,” she called. “Would you mind bringing the skirt for this top?”
“And which top is that?” Carol called back.
“Oh, come in and see it,” my mother answered without a second’s hesitation.”
“What? Mom, no!” I pleaded. I was in my underwear. Carol was not allowed to see my underwear. First these women were robbing me of a beautiful party dress and now my dignity? Absolutely not! But in Carol came. I stood there awkwardly feeling my face getting hot and trying desperately to pull the vest down to cover myself—in vain. Carol acted like the sight of my underwear wasn’t no thing, but the damage had been done. I got that “my throat is hurting because I’m trying not to cry” feeling. My mother paid for the suit and a sensible headband and off we went to Stride Rite.
I still had hope for the black patent leather ballet flat, which I fondly referred to as ‘big-girl shoes.’ (My favorite shoe to this day is the black patent ballet flat.) I made my wish known to my mother, who agreed, assuring me they would definitely have those. I spotted them the second we walked into the store. Perfect. I sat on the bench shaken by the panties incident, but thankful that at least I wasn’t afraid of the metal foot measurer. The salesgirl came over, measured, looked down at my dream shoe, then up at my mother. “She has a very broad foot,” she stated. “These aren’t going to work, but those will.” She pointed to a Mary Jane. My heart sank. “But what about another size?” I asked. “What about something you have in the back?” I was grasping. “PLEASE!”
I couldn’t believe it. My last chance for some semblance of elegance and they were sticking my stupid broad foot in a Mary Jane? A Mary Jane is the opposite of a big-girl shoe! It’s a little-girl shoe! “Sorry,” the salesgirl said—still no sympathy, and in fact, maybe a taking some sick pleasure in all of this. “These are all we have.” My mother agreed and she bought the Mary Janes. I was so depressed I didn’t even want to stop at Mrs. Fields. I hated the mall, I hated my life, and I hated my fat fat fatty fat foot.
This feeling, being denied the shoe you want because of the size of your foot: avoid it. Shop Barefoot Tess.
Now, you know I want your traumatizing childhood stories. Let’s hear ‘em. And mind the contest ($50 to our commenter of the week)!
I spend the vast majority of the winter months tucked up into the folds of many layers of blankets on my couch, watching DVR’ed television and sipping cocoa. Fine, that’s not true, but often I wish it were. Instead I spend my winters shivering, traversing the sidewalk hunched over with my head down, and complaining about the inexorable cold the second I arrive at my destination with chapped hands and a runny nose. New York winters are brutal, but as I understand, I’m actually spoiled having to put up only with this. Here the temperature rarely plummets below 0˚F, whereas in other cities, they’re dealing with temperatures below zero on a daily basis—I’m talking to you, Minneapolis.
Here they are.
The Top 5 Things I Hate About Winter:
5. When you’re in someone’s home and they just don’t have the heat high enough. You hint. You chatter your teeth. They don’t offer you so much as a cup of tea and they inevitably have one of those cold leather couches.
4. Falling on the ice. (This happens to me a lot because among my favorite winter pastimes is “ice skating,” though it’s most always met with the response, “Stop sliding around on that black ice, Laura, you’re going to fall!” And then I do, and I hate it.)
3. Runny noses and teary eyes. (Every time I come inside I have to wipe the tears from my eyes and blow my nose. Even then, it never really stops running. And do I ever carry tissues? Of course not.)
2. (a.) The great heaps of gray snow that are a permanent fixture on every sidewalk until mid-March. Upside: when the pile gets really tall, you can climb on it—it offers a sizable deal of fun in the cold while you’re waiting for the bus and you’ve grown tired of ice skating on the sidewalk.
2. (b.) Falling off of the gray snow pile into the street—people stare.
1. Cold feet. If you don’t wear the right boots, your feet are cold for months straight. And once they get cold, they never get warm, especially if you’re hanging out at this person’s house: See 5.
There’s just one solution and I’ve got it: Appropriate winter boots. Now, appropriate very seldom implies cute and fashionable, but I would never suggest something that wasn’t. I’ve got your backs, girls.
The Sorel Caribou Boot
The Australia Love Corset
Obviously, I want to hear what everyone else hates about winter—you know I love your stories. And remember commenter of the week (here or over at Tess HQ) wins $50.
I was late to Sunday brunch, and it was completely as a result of my not having the sole super power I’d really love to possess: the ability to know where my lost things have gone. Sure, I’d like to be invisible, or fly, or time travel, or fly invisibly while I time travel, but none of those super powers would help me find the mate to my Paul Mayer ‘Bingo’ Flat. To be fair, every complete shoe wardrobe needs a lot of things, but the thing it needs most is a black patent ballet flat. They work with dressy and casual. They match everything. They’re elegant, feminine, and comfortable. They’re essential.
But now I’ve found myself in a jam, because what do you do when you’ve lost the mate to your most versatile shoe? Cry, throw a bunch of your clothes on the floor, and arrive late to brunch in an outfit you only sort of like and a foul mood, forcing your friends to order you a Bloody Mary with desperate urgency? Yes. But then what? Girls, the only thing I can think to do is buy another pair. And now you see why I really do NEED that super power.
I know I’m not the only one: Which super power can you not live without and why? Remember comment of the week wins $50 (comment here).
And here are some patent ballet flats in case you too have lost the mate to your most cherished pair. If you have, I would now like to take to time to extend my deepest condolences. This too shall pass—when you buy a new pair, like these:
The Delman Mona.
The Dolce Vita Flora.
And now, I ask that you partake in a collective moment of silence for all of the lost shoes we’ve ever mourned.
06
Oct
09
Pillaging Isn’t Always Bad
You know when you riffle through the back of your mother’s closet, hoping to find certain coveted pieces from her days at Wellesley, (bell bottoms, patterned blouses, knits in brown and orange… and more brown)? We all know the drill. Much to your fashion frustration, all you end up unearthing from the depths of the walk-in is a bunch of power suits in vertigo-inducing colors, the very suits you spit up on as a baby–probably on purpose now that you think about it. Am I right? I’m right.
I’m doing you a favor here. These are the chunky heels you’re always hoping to find, the ones mom wore with her high-wasted Jordache jeans: The Barefoot Tess Thalia by Faryl Robin.
By no means do I intend to insult the contents of your mother’s closet. You and I both know there are some real treasures in there. And not to be overlooked, grandma’s closet.
What’s the most amazing find you’ve ever walked away with after a session of “She won’t mind. She probably doesn’t even remember she owns this?” And while we’re on the subject, what’s the absolute most offensive piece you’ve ever reintroduced to the light of day (Only to frantically shove it back onto the top shelf after a good laugh, I hope)?
Comment of the week over at Barefoot Tess wins $50. So come on, girls. Show me what you’ve got… or rather, tell me what you’ve found!
To be honest, we haven’t been this excited for a cultural event…
Since, well, since maybe ever.
And while we’ve determined that it’s impossible (or at the very least, certainly inadvisable) to actually become a wild thing…
That doesn’t mean you can’t, from time to time, pretend. After all, aren’t fur (or faux) vests already an it item this fall?
You pair one of those babies with a pair of these babies…
And you’re good to go. And growl, if you want to.
You know who said that? John Keats said that. No. Wrong. Sorry–he wrote it. In 1818. Here’s the stanza you can find it in, from the poem, Endymion:
A thing of beauty is a joy forever:
It’s loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health and quiet breathing
And do you how old John Keats was when he wrote this?
He was 22 years old! He’d be dead by 25.
And do you know what those lines are about?
That’s right! You guessed it! They’re about shoes! Beautiful, beautiful shoes!
No. Just kidding. Sorry. They’re not about shoes.
But they could be! Right? After all, what’s more beautiful than a perfect pair of shoes? And while they can’t quite last forever, who doesn’t have a blissfully beautiful pair of shoes emblazoned in their memory for all time? I mean, who doesn’t think back, from time to time, wistfully, on the best pair of shoes they’ve ever owned? I know I do.
And I bet you anything that Keats did as well. (Though of course, it’s unverifiable.) So whenever anybody gives you a hard time about your insatiable need for beauty on your feet, just give ‘em some Keats, a man so Romantic they capitalized the word for him…
(P.S. If you like this post clikc here and comment. Tess is giving $50 to one lucky commenter of the week!)
15
Jul
09
Tess Tuesday: My Foot Hates Me
I used to be (slash think I still am) an athlete. Thus, a mindless (and virtually sweat-less) 3 hour stroll through a nearby park this past weekend seemed entirely harmless. No aches, pains, or heaving inhalations. Why then, did I wake up the following morning unable to put pressure on my left foot? Two long disgusting painful words: Plantar Fasichitis. It feels as bad as it sounds and looks. This picture only slightly captures the burning aching stabbing pains running up and down my arch. Yikes.
Turns out I have somehow contracted this sharp debilitating foot pain syndrome due to lack of arch support in my new running shoes. Grrr. What’s worse – the only remedy for the constant shooting pain with every slight pressure on my left heel is to stretch out the facsia in my heel (by stretch I mean push – yes, activating the excruciating pains – trying to loosen up the tissue under my spasming foot) and sleep with my foot in a 90 degree boot (actually a pretty cool invention – designed to keep your foot flexed through the duration of the night, again, to stretch the cramping tissue). Awful. Then, to add more insult to injury – the heel inserts that somewhat reduce the stabbing pains line the bottom inner sole of your shoes – peeking out in my lowest cut flats and totally exposed in my new summer thongs! The shoe gods must be mad at me.
So, I lay here sulking, wishing someone would make a nice platform wedge or gladiator thong with this innovative Plantar Faschitis-friendly 90 degree action and heel/arch support built right in. Until then, I can only dream of the day when my heel will forgive me long enough to let me stroll down the street in Barefoot Tess’s new Corso Como ‘Campus’ heel.
Maybe this is nature’s way of slowing down my shoe purchases. A sort of intervention on my spenditure and forced reflection on my addiction by way of foot injury… If so, it’s working.
Check out Barefoot Tess for today’s special deal – that is if your heel doesn’t hate you and you can enjoy the fabulous shoes at great prices…
Katie Holmes used to inspire millions of teenage girls to develop ridiculously educated vocabularies so they too could have life discussions with their window-crawling best guy friend turn boyfriend turn ex boyfriends just like Joey from Dawson’s Creek. Now, she inspires one little girl (her daughter) to wear fabulous Maloles just like mom.
Meanwhile, Kate Hudson is the go-to leading lady. Stunning, blonde, down to earth, fabulous. And she is the go-to celeb for great style. Go-to and you shall see: she loves Corso Como.
And Jessica Alba. She’s hot, and so is her fashion sense. Check out her choice of footwear: That’s right. Corso Como.
Barefoot Tess carries these celeb favorite designers Maloles and Corso Como - and in large sizes that you can’t find anywhere else! Fashion meets celebrity meets large feet meets BarefootTess.com. That is a lot of meeting.
30
Jun
09
Tess Tuesday: Shoe Seek
Seeking shoes? Seeking great prizes? Seeking something to seek?
Barefoot Tess teamed up with fabulous shoe-loving blogs, sites, and friends to create an incredible Shoe Seek 2009 scavenger hunt contest for a whole grand prize package full of wonderful prizes! It is almost too good to be true, too amazing to believe, too incredible to fathom… except it really does exist.
What can you win? What can’t you win? Here is what the grand prize package includes:
-$250 shopping spree to BarefootTess.com!
-$50 Nordstrom gift certificate (courtesy of TallClothingMall.com)!
-A vintage porcelain heart brooch (courtesy of IPlayFavorites Blogger Joy D)!
-A signed copy of ‘The Budget Fashionista‘ Kathryn Finney’s first book “How to Be a Budget Fashionista”
-Shoe Seek winner feature blog/article and picture on the following fabulous shoe-loving sites: BarefootTess.com, Blogging Barefoot Blog, TallWomen.org, Fashion Fille’s blog, YourFeetMakeYouUnique blog, and ShoeTube!
Check out all the details and information on the Shoe Seek site – and register for your chance to win all these incredible prizes!
