is a single mama in the city, super-savvy editor, writer, video host and shameless shoe whore.
Just about the only thing that's going to make me OK with it being fall during summer
Friday, August 28, 2009 It's the end of August and for days, it has been the middle of October. I'm not OK with it. I want sticky, hot humidity that outwits hair straighteners and car air conditioners. I want sunburns and mid-day clothing changes. I want blissful, blissful sunshine blazing at a heat index of 412-degrees.
Instead, it is raining. A lot. We are freezing in our central air and I refuse to give up my sunglasses, even if it there is a 10 p.m. overcast darkness at noon.
So what is keeping me going when the last before-back-to-school hoorahs of hours at the park and walks by the lake and trips to the nearly closed Kiddieland are foiled and we just end up watching a lot of crap "Phinneas & Pherb" or playing endless games of Clone Troopers vs. whatever lady Star Wars character I plead with Lil E gets to use a light saber just this once? I'm not going to lie -- it's shoes.
Specifically, it is a pair of boots. This pair of boots. A pair of boots I tried on in Portland, walked around in at a cute little store while wearing a sundress and heat rash. In the moment, I was too lazy to carry one more thing on the plane ride home with me and too frugal to give a commission to the eager sales woman who hastily scraped the hell out of my calf insisting on zipping them up for me, and so I didn't buy them. But when a gorgeous 84-degree day in Chicago suddenly turned into a thunderstorm, I got online and finally tracked them down here.
Sweet relief.
Oh, friends. Look at these the lovely, lovely leather beauts. Not only are they tall, sleek, and bad ass, they are waterproof -- perfect for my rigorous commutes from my front door to the car across the preschool playground and back again. Won't those 4- and 5-year-olds think I am something? OK, no. But it will make me feel better about not having a proper summer after a winter that hellishly lasted until June 17th.
Just don't judge me if I am wearing them with a sundress and some aviators. Or if I still am carrying my flip-flops around in my bag, just in case.
A word to the shoe whore wise: These boots are not for the full of calf. And according to the fascists who design boots these days, anyone with calves bigger than their wrists are considered full of calf. I detest this. Not enough to stop buying leather boots, but I detest it. These do adjust a bit at the top and the sales lady who ripped up my legs assured me that she has a pair and they stretched to accommodate jeans. I have absolutely no information about the thickness of her jeans, but I am going to give that 22-year old stylista the benefit of the doubt.
Reader Comments (4)
I thought I saw the sun yesterday for a minute. I was wrong.