Sleep Before Waking

You can call me hypocritical scum, but some strange demonic shift has taken place in my psyche and I have become…

…a girl.

I know, it’s disgusting. I blame the BBC’s What Not To Wear with Trinny and Susannah for turning me into such a frilly female. I’ve come a long way from dog collars and combat boots (though they still remain hidden in my arsenal. I dare not say where.)

I bring this up after taking the wee one to the mall this evening (she asks to go constantly. As of right now, she asks in order to enjoy some Mrs. Field’s, some chicken nuggets, and the indoor playground which I shant complain about, given that it is an air conditioned oasis in the desert of swamp ass that is currently New England. I figure I should take her now that her wants are pure and be thankful she isn’t yet asking to go because she is a thong wearing mall rat… *shivers) and being inspired to acquire.

Upon meandering through the department store on the way in, I spotted the clearance rack of the shoe section (I’m a bargainista, can’t help it) and honed in on a pair of blue heels that screamed for my posession. I wanted them bad. Now, you may be asking yourself;

Caitlin, how exactly do shoes scream?

By being PERFECT (see picture which doesn’t do them justice) with several outfits in my closet, including an Elvis skirt I made that desperately needed cute shoes to complete the ensemble.

Caitlin, how many pairs of shoes do you have?

Well, let me give you an estimate. Since I started losing weight nigh on four years ago, I have amassed a collection of four pairs of knee high boots, three flats, one pair of sneakers, two pairs of flip flops, and approximately 10 pairs of heels. This coming from a woman who lived in ONE pair of combat boots for ten years.

Caitlin, why these shoes?

Quit judging me! They’re adorable! Not too high, cute as hell, make my calves look gorgeous from every side, have a cute little button closure (with an F on it, though I completely missed that upon gazing longingly into the mirror at them).

Well, I had decided I owned enough in the shoe department and haven’t gone shoe shopping since the last time a clearance rack screamed my name nigh on seven months ago (a day on which I bought four pairs of shoes…). Well, those blue heels knew my name…and they were my fecking size.

So I bought em. A $55 pair of heels for $13, so not too bad. AND Mebhy D told me I HAD to have them. (When the wee one likes something, it’s all over) Yet, when the woman went out back to find the partner to my new shoe, she returned with a box I had NOT expected.  

Christ on a cracker, ladies (and gentlemen). I just fucking bought Fergie shoes.

Fergalicious?

Me?

Of course.

I suppose I should give her props. Leave it to another Aries to manufacture shoes that call my name from across the fecking room. Maybe I should take a look at the rest of her line…maybe we see eye to eye.

What am I saying? CAITLIN! You have enough shoes!

So in celebration of that concept…I am suddenly inspired to add a video and call it a night.