The pursuit of style is not going that well. I'm even having trouble replacing the basic things I threw out and gave away.
Whilst sifting through my closet over the weekend, I found my black pumps. They hardly qualify as such: bought for me by my mom when I was 13 to wear to choir concerts, they have a silhouette that recalls the garden ornament that alternately resembles a toadstool or an old maid's ass. I can't remember the last time I wore them. It doesn't matter anymore; the leather had finally cracked and crumbled beyond the point of salvage. Away with you.
I'm hoping that if I find another pair I will actually wear them. To gigs, you know -- the old standby. If you believe Lucky magazine, we should wear them with our jeans, but I don't think I can do that. It's too trendy, and things that are too trendy embarrass me. But what am I doing reading Lucky, then?
Black pumps, ahoy.
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