The False Friendship of New Shoes

I just got these fabulous, black patent leather heels. New! Fun! When I get a new pair of shoes, I like to wear them around the apartment. Particularly if they're high. Because I'm only 5'3" and so wearing 4" heels, well, that gives me a whole new perspective on the world.

I can reach things in my cupboard that I otherwise can't! I can see the top of the fridge! If only I were always this tall!

I think I have already mentioned my propensity to forget that I'm not invisible when I go out running. So I think nothing of donning orange shorts and a red fleece and black and neon green running shoes and blue socks and bopping out the door with my iPod.

I just happily jog down the street looking like a complete ass, totally in my own world. Not realizing how ridiculous I look. Or, more importantly, forgetting that anyone can see me. And then I run into people I know, and sometimes, sometimes even someone I went on a date with or someone from work.

And I can read the look: "How did she look so put together the other day, and is she aware that she currently looks like she escaped from the Asylum for the Criminally Unable to Dress Themselves in Normal Society?"

One might wonder how these two things are related. So here you go.

I got this new pair of shoes, pictured above. I've been mincing about in them at home this evening. An old boyfriend's red flannel boxer shorts, a pink tank top, and a purple velour hoodie complete the ensemble. My hair is pulled up in a clip. I'm wearing my glasses. But for the shoes, I look like, well, like I'm hanging out at home on a Sunday night, winding down for the evening.

Which is precisely the case. I'm drinking a little wine, doing laundry, straightening up, taking out the trash, etc.

Let me just say in my defense that I almost never run into anyone in the hallway. And that the trash room is mere steps down the hall from my apartment.

I wasn't about to walk down the hall barefoot. And I already had shoes on. . .

You can see where this is going.

It turns out that I'm not invisible when I'm taking out the trash either.