Of all the things that have gone by the wayside since having kids, you know, like not leaving the house without at least mascara and lip gloss strategically applied, or hell, even brushing my hair, the one thing I have not lost is my taste in shoes.
You can take my skinny thighs and perfectly taut vagina, but don't you mess with my shoes!
Not only do I love shoes, but I generally have great taste in them. And while I'm not sporting the platforms, stilettos, or the Doc Marten's I bought at the factory in England, I can still pick them, even though these days they're a pair of ballet flats or a stylized sneaker.
So imagine my horror when I stood in front of the clearance shelves at Marshalls, holding a pair of $39 super comfy Cole Haan shoes, unsure as to whether they were funky cool or old lady chic.
I vascillated. I put them back. I picked them up. I almost did the thing that no decisive shoe lover with great taste should ever have to do.
Ask a fellow shopper.
And then I figured, fuck it. I'm walking around in a Target skirt and Gap stretch tee both of which aren't maternity wear so when I'm not paying attention, the lower quarter of my belly hangs out.
So, what the hell do I care if the shoes are for the over 50 set?
What do you think? I'm a big girl. I can take it.