“Men Who Wear Cleats Will Never Understand Heels”
If you’re a boy, odds are, you wont understand anything about a girl and her shoes…
Of the 3 times I’ve been to Washington DC for a series against the Nationals, this past trip was the first trip on which Mat and I actually stayed in DC. Mat pitched the first game of the series and I then intended to get a few days of quality sightseeing and touring in. That’s not what happened. This is a story about what it’s like to walk 6.5 miles in my shoes.
Not knowing it was Opening Day for the Nationals, I left the hotel an hour and 15 minutes before the game thinking this would be ample time for a cab to get me 3.5 miles in DC. Almost instantly, I realized we’d been sitting at the same traffic light for 6 whole minutes and I PANICKED. If Mat wasn’t pitching that game, I would have just seen this as extra time to tweet or catch up on emails, but I needed to be at the ballpark for him to warm up. I didn’t see how this cab was going to help me to accomplish that.
I’m not afraid to use my own two feet and I actually love walking places because it’s a great way to justify ballpark wine calories (this is a lie I tell myself). After sitting in the cab for an hour, stressing my driver out with countless, “Should I just get out and walk?” inquiries, I realized I had 15 minutes before first pitch and a mile and a half to go. If I was making Mat’s first pitch, it was time to boogie. I paid my cab driver, she gave me lousy directions and I walked like zombies were chasing me and I couldn’t run. Oh yeah, I didn’t make it in time to watch him warm up and I HATED that.
Enough with story time, I need you to hear me out. Shoes can ruin your life. I wasn’t planning on walking a mile and a half that day, but I didn’t think it would be a problem because I was wearing my new red Nike 6.0 Balsa lites. I’m thoroughly convinced that the next time I wear those babies, they wont rub the skin off my baby toes, but that’s what happened that day and the last little piggies really did go “wahhhhh wahhhh wahhhh..” all the way home. Ouch.
Fast forward to the following day. I was faced with this decision: go to the gym and hamster it up on a treadmill, or walk my happy behind 2.5 miles to do some shopping. I mean- duh. Is that really a question? I decided to wear my studded Steve Madden boots because I’ve worn them plenty of times and I love them because they’re some kind of awesome (plus, the only other shoes I packed were heels and my Nike’s and I was NOT wearing those again). As I got closer and closer to the Sephora I was headed to, I started noticing my heels hurting. This could only mean one thing… blisters. Believe what you want but I’m certain that blisters are the devil. I didn’t last long shopping because I couldn’t find any cute sandals to switch into, so I started to make my way back to the hotel chanting, “Pain isn’t real, you LOVE these boots” the whole way back (p.s. I’m really good at lying to myself).
On my lovely and painful stroll, I began realizing that my newly acquired toe and heel injuries were going to make it rather difficult to wear shoes in the near future and I needed some sandals ASAP or my life was going to be over. I went into Burberry because it was the only store I knew of left on my journey that might be able to offer my poor feet some solace. I don’t mean to be mean but the only sandals in the store were just not my style. Brown. Grandma on vacation-y. I don’t know how to explain them besides the fact that I just couldn’t bring myself to buy them- even if my feet were falling off. As a last resort, I decided that maybe some comfy flats could work. At this point, I couldn’t even think straight.
I’m not much of an advocate of flats or pearls but I found these peep-toed babies in the Burberry store and I will say that I love them. Note: the only other pair of flats I currently own are a hot pink, patent leather pair of Diors that I couldn’t help but buy on a New York road trip and I will never tell Mat how much they cost. Again, boys will just never understand some things.
In the wise words of Adrian Gonzalez, you can’t lecture a woman on how much she spends on bags and shoes if you would spend that much on your car. (This is what he told Mat, and I will forever be thankful for him doing so).
Now, before you go judging me for talking about spending money on clothes, shoes or accessories, I have something to say. If you can afford to splurge, do it on denim and shoes. I have some amazing <$50 handbags. If you’re not stick skinny (I’m not), quality denim just makes you feel better. If you like to walk a lot, quality shoes are as necessary as air. That is not to say that Dior or Burberry flats are necessary but, this isn’t about preferences, it’s about feeling good.
Labels mean nothing, quality and function mean everything.
But don’t you ever wear pajamas to the airport. The maxi dress was invented for people who value the comfort of being lazy, like myself.
Get ‘er done.