Heels should turn into heals after Saturday night’s wedding reception. The walk from the parking garage to the venue was ok…made it and stayed upright. Stood mingling for about a hour…made it. The bride’s mother even walked by and said, “I can’t believe you are still standing in those shoes.” Damn, now I have to keep them on…by this point the toe box is getting a little beyond tight, no blisters just squeezing. Ok, yes, its time to eat let’s sit down and I prop my feet up to get the blood back to my toes-wouldn’t want to have to amputate now would we? Probably wouldn’t be able to wear peep toes after that.
Dinner finishes with the most delicious ribs, I know, not fancy but definitely hit the spot. Dancing starts…I made it through the Macarena (ick), the Electric Slide where Lord DB shines, and the Dougie plus a slow dance to Sweet November Rain…who knew? Ok, I give up-they have to come off.
Lo and behold, most of my nail polish is ripped off and my toes are a little purple. Was it worth it you may ask, and yes, I believe so, I got many a compliment and I loved them.
The best part of the evening is when Lord DB asks, “Did you see that girl’s shoes?” “Oh, those high, nude heels that look like Jessica Simpson’s…sure did…they are too big and she keeps walking right out of them.” (She ended up dancing in place. Just stood and moved her body, never her feet which was quite amusing.) “Damn, now you got me looking at these girls shoes.” He is hooked, I think.