I enjoy shoes. A lot. And I spent most of my twenties wearing the most ridiculous, high, foolish shoes available. All in the name of style. And attention, really. But, even I balk at these preposterous shoes:
Seriously, these do not belong in suburban stores for idiot girls to aspire to - they belong on runway models and drag queens in NYC. Only. Who would buy these for any purpose other than displaying them on a mantle? I can appreciate an outrageously fabulous way to dress up the below-ankle regions, but I'm rolling my eyes. Plus, they didn't fit.