Don't you just love a good pair of shoes?
Seriously, is there anything more satisfying than finding the perfect pair of patent leather, kitten heals -- in your size -- and knowing, just knowing, that they'll look perfect with that skirt/shirt/handbag/hot, young bartender you have at home?
Is there anything that makes you feel more like a woman than sliding on a pair of spiked stillettos and sashaying down a corridor knowing that all eyes are on you (the men's eyes on your butt and the women's eyes on your shoes)?
Shoes rock. Completely.
And men just don't get it. They just don't understand the bond between women and their feet; our love for the inconceivably high heel, agonisingly pointy toe or super-soft suede upper/all leather lower. Or our willingness to endure corns, calluses, blisters, throbbing soles, in-grown toe-nails and heels so rough you could file steel with them, just so we can look fabby 24/7. Men just can't see the logic.
Go figure.
Just as well, though. Cos if they did, it would mean I'd probably have to share some of these babies with my hubby... and that just wouldn't be conducive to a long, happy marriage.
Aren't they pretty? And definitely not on the "things-we-should-share" list.
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