Thursday, June 3, 2010

always a day late and/or a dollar short

So let me preface this with I'm not a shoe girl. I love shoes, I have lots of shoes (relatively) but I have never fully understood that saying "shoe porn." In fact, when I thought shoes, up until recently, I thought this:
Always. With everything. Swimsuits, shorts, pants, Betsey Johnson prom dresses.

But since I graduated and got some disposable time and income thanks to the whole gainful employment thing, I have begun exploring what else is out there. I broadened my horizons to include gladiator sandals, ballet flats, all types of boots and, ever so gently, higher type shoes.

Since I never cared about shoes before, I have been finding amazing shoes, like the Frye Rogan studded military boots, that are basically sold out on the internetmachine because they're so last year, but I still want them so freaking bad. well anyway, I did it again. I found a pair of completely old but unbelievable flats that are virtually sold out of big kid sizes (read: 8.5) anywhere you might look.

These amazing little slices of random are Poetic Licence's Electric Avenue. I didn't know shoes could make me feel this way inside. Upon further research I found that Poetic Licence makes a good deal of shoes that I found stirred emotions in me that I just didn't know existed.

no, thank YOU for being a friend, rue.

When I read on that another golden girl lost the good fight, I was literally numb with shock. To find it was Blanche Deveraeux? I was just devastated.

Let's all take a moment to pay reverence to an absolute revolutionary, a visionary, a woman ahead of her time. The original cougar.

Rest in peace Estelle, Bea, and now Rue. Stay golden ladies.

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

I can see where this is going...

I'm an engineer at a helicopter company and I wear shit like this to work (today actually)...

Why yes! That IS a snail leaving a snail trail on the hem of that skirt, oh business cas...

There are times when I have been at work, school, going potty, etc. and I get this overpowering urge to go to the nearest thrift store. It is uncontrollable and has a mind of its own, and I can't calm down until I finally go. I love how they smell, I love the assortment of random home furnishings they contain, I love the thrill of the hunt, I love it all.

I also read, a lot, even Steinbeck... go figure.
I have short hair and glasses. Always.
I work out frequentlyish.
I curse like a sailor.
I am at a decidedly weird place in my life.
Aside from that I have these little wigglin' wobblin' purveyors of pure, unadulterated adoration and love...

I am sure the details of my existence are trivial at best, but I feel it is only polite to introduce myself should anyone stumble across this little gem.
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