Despite one notable crash landing, two small bunions and a few corns, I've been a lover (and a wearer) of high heels since my 13th birthday. Blame Mother. She had some dynamite shoes when I was a kid, and she could sashay across a room like nobody's business. I couldn't wait to grow up and follow suit.
And one day, I did. It was a red-letter day, indeed. Charlie's Shoe Store. Meridian, MS. The color was black and cream. Slingbacks. Tiny laces across the throat. Mother said yes, I jumped for joy, and a love affair began.
I wore my leopard high heels today (seen above), and I felt like a million bucks. Crash landings, bunions and corns? Please. Don't make me laugh. It's a small price to pay for something so pleasurable.
I'm joining my twin sister at her Simple Pleasures party today. If high heels cause you more pain than pleasure, that's OK. Tell her what makes you smile. She really wants to know. :-)