Posts Tagged ‘black


From $1300 to $16.99…. what price style?

Last week I realized I could no longer see into most of my closet, so I blocked off some of my precious free time and did some early spring cleaning.

Near the back I found a pair of black boots. They were worn, but perfect. Mid-calf height, soft but still shiny and high enough to give some lift without making me totter. I loved those boots. I could wear them with anything, my favorite turquoise wrap dress, work pants, jeans and of course with anything black.

They even found their way into a sexy Halloween costume once. Sadly, their time had come. So with my credit card and laptop in hand I went in search of a new black boot.

My first stop was research, Jimmy Choo, of course. I found a great pair, Beach, that I absolutely loved. I was sold on then until I saw the $1300 price tag. I love you Jimmy, but not a mortgage payments worth. At least now I knew what I was looking for.
Next I turned my mouse towards Bloomingdale’s in search of something equally as lust worthy without the budget busting. There were plenty of options, the only thing suitable was the Pulsar by Stuart Weitzman, but for $535 it better be love. A quick check of my bank account reveals that it was going to be more of a budget shoe month.
So, over to the Payless site I went. I found the Sampson boot which was shiny like Choo’s but I didn’t buy them. Instead my eye was drawn to the more demure, and less shiny Tara boot.

At $16.99 the price was right and the look is great. They came in two days, and while they aren’t what I set out to buy but they’re a more grown up pair, and still 100% sexy. My closet is once again complete.


How To Be Insanely Tall

When visiting someone for the weekend or overnight, doesn’t it feel weird to realize you wore the wrong shoes and are now stuck with them for the entire visit?

I had this pair of chunky-heeled boots I wore all the time during my senior year of college. They were black, came up a few inches past the ankle, laced up, and had a huge chunky heel. In a way they resembled combat boots with a big fat heel. I’m 5′ 7″ and wearing these boots made me 5′ 11″ or thereabouts, so I always felt like a giant walking across campus. I loved them, however, so it didn’t matter that I sometimes felt like a large Scandinavian woman named Helga while wearing them. These boots were my footwear of choice when I went to visit a friend of mine in Princeton for the weekend. My friend might be five feet tall, but barely. I also met her then-boyfriend for the first time, who was about 5′ 5″, as well as her other friends who weren’t exactly future NBA players, either. Needless to say, I felt like the large Amazonian friend visiting the people of Munchkinland for the weekend! I didn’t mind too much feeling like a giant all weekend, but now, before selecting my footwear for the day, evening, or weekend, I ask myself whether or not I want to be nearly six feet tall today and whether or not Munchkinland is on my schedule before leaving my apartment!


The Perfect Exit

What shoes go well with a pink slip? As my eyes moved down the shoe rack hanging over my closet door, I calmly weighed my options.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t trying to match my shoes to a garment – this pink slip was the kind that sends you reeling into denial, anger and last but not least, the unemployment office. I knew it was coming, I even had the right outfit. I just couldn’t settle on the shoes. Would it be the red vintage-esque Marc Jacobs peep-toes I found on sale last week? No, too new. Perhaps my sassy patent Stuart Weitzman 4-inch stilettos? Too sexy. Something seemed wrong about each pair that my eyes landed on. I needed a pair of warrior shoes, a combat boot of sorts that would carry me through this ordeal with the least amount of battle wounds.

That’s when I spotted them – knee-high, black, immaculately tailored. My take on the world, devil-may-care Jimmy Choo boots that I spent the entire summer of ’06 coveting before throwing down my Visa and giddily embracing a season of debt. I pulled them on, zipped up the back and admired the effect in the mirror. I felt strong, defiant, empowered: a perfect remedy for the pink slip blues. These boots were made for walking out the office door, leaving them with a lasting final impression, and – the ultimate sting – a twinge of regret.
Later that day, severance contract in hand, I slung my purse over my shoulder and walked out that door one last time. As the heavy door shut behind me, I threw my head back haughtily and smiled: mission accomplished.

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April 2020