How Can Something So Spectacularly Cute Be So Incredibly Painful?
Someone, please tell me how such spectacularly cute shoes can cause so much pain they qualify as a crime against nature.
They look so innocent, too - like your typical, overpriced, lace-up sneakers. Nothing there should make my feet feel like I just drank the Sea Witch’s potion (ALA The Little Mermaid), and yet every step in these satan-inspired shoes is one of gut-wrenching, limping agony.
I foolishly wore them to trivia night last week, and my toes were screaming as I walked from the car to the restaurant's front door. My feet are still blistered and scabbing from an unavoidable 200-yard walk that nearly destroyed them.
A few days later, I stupidly put them on again because I am apparently enough of a moron to believe that a pair of gravely uncomfortable shoes, if given another chance, will magically transform into something incredibly cute and tolerable, possibly by stripping the rest of the skin off my feet.
The only good thing about these f*cking shoes, which retail for around $90 is that - oh, you’re going to love this - I found them at a thrift store and only paid $10 for them. This means I paid waaaaaaaayyyyy less for my pain and misery than the original buyer, but I’ve already shelled out about $15 in Band-aids and ointments, so it’s not like I’ve come out ahead.
I’m just kidding about the Band-Aids and First Aid Cream (sort of.) To tip the scale in my favor, I thought about returning them, but the store has a No Return policy, and the blood stains my feet left on the insides probably make them a bio-hazard anyway.
As for the shoes themselves, they were new and still in their original box. The soles were clean but not spotless, so I think they got one quick wearing and then a big “Oh HELL NO” before being dumped at a re-sell shop where they sat on a shelf waiting for this clueless buyer, who almost knocked over and trampled three other shoppers trying to grab them first.
Besides injuring myself with fashion, it’s been a low-key week. Jacksonville had a near-freeze this morning with a few snow flurries and plenty of Danger! Danger! warnings on the news, and my car has been in the garage getting the damage fixed from that dumbass accident. That means I’m stuck at home, and let me tell you, there is only so much cleaning and crafting one can do before she starts to go bonkers. Things are neater around here, but that also means that there are multiple bags of shit in the garage that must be hauled to a thrift store where I swear to god, I am NOT buying another pair of shoes.