I have a boot problem. A tarty boot problem.

I realized last week I have relentlessly tarty taste in boots.

Also, I have a boot problem.

There, I've said it. I feel better.

So the fabulous, above-the-knee boots? The zipper broke the first time I wore them. Zappos didn't have another pair in my size. And quite frankly, I was worried that if they broke that fast, maybe they were poorly constructed. And they were expensive. So I returned them.

Thus, I no longer had hottie-hot new boots.

And then I went to New Jersey.

The Friday after Thanksgiving, Nick and his parents headed up to see his older sister and her kids. Me, I got to spend the day with Tori, who lives a couple towns over from Nick's parents. Yay!

Since it seems like a travesty to be in the land of No Sales Tax on Clothing or Shoes and not shop, we went shopping. I was looking for Christmas presents, but of course one cannot pass a DSW without poking one's nose in. Don't you think?

I cannot even tell you what possessed me to put these boots on, since I thought "prostitute" when I first saw them. But these were a total bargain (as much as a pair of boots like this can be when you're not going to make money wearing them), and I figured I'd just see how they looked.

As soon as I put them on, I kind of really wanted them.

And it was shoe money already spent. In fact, these were less than half of the prior boots. So I was pretty much losing money if I didn't buy them, you know?

And then Tori was all, "Those are awesome! Look at the buckles!"

"Too much like buckle up, big boy, and pull out your wallet?"

"Not on you."

"Are you sure? They're kind of extreme."

"Honestly, Lis, of all my friends, you pull off the whorish boots the best. And you never look the least bit slutty. I assure you."

She meant this in the most sincerely positive way. Even though it sounds kind of suspect.

And then another woman walked down the aisle and was all, "Those boots look great on you!"

Which almost made me put them back, considering I'd already been complimented for trying on some pointy purple velvet paisley boots. (Who could resist? Not me.) Also, a woman at another store had told me she loved my blue nail polish.

Except for the myriad reasons I could never live there, I could so live in New Jersey, you guys. The shopping public is good for my self-esteem.