Question Of The Day

What do you do when you have buyer's remorse from a factory outlet store 3 hours away from home?

I very often fancy myself to be some fashion forward chica with an awesome sense of style. I see these cute things other girls are wearing and they look adorable in, so very rarely I just go get myself whatever it is and try it out. The problem is, I am not fashion forward, nor do I have any sense of style. I need help. Mostly, I need my brother's help. He has so much style, it oozes out and overflows into everything he does, so I figure he can spare a few ounces when I come calling with a desperate plea for help.

And that's all well and good, until I go shopping far away and don't have his bare-bones, tell-it-like-it-is opinion handy. Also, I don't know how to work my camera phone, or he'd have been barraged with images of me trying to look hip. Poor guy. So this weekend, while I mostly tried to shop for Christmas gifts, the shoe stores were too enticing to ignore. I ended up buying some terribly trendy shoes that I now fear will have me laughed out of....well....my house. See, I really don't see myself wearing them out of the house for fear of people pointing and laughing at my failed style attempt.

Let me explain (even further).

The last day of our shopping trip ended up being a wash-out: pouring down rain, puddles bursting up through the pavement, and me in some thin ballerina flats. Super comfy, yet super inadequate for a rainstorm. We dashed into the stores, which are all connected by outdoor walkways, and shook ourselves off before trying to muster the will to shop. None of us wanted to be hauling bags in such a cold, driving rain, but we couldn't leave without hitting some favorites that we hadn't made it to yet.

One of the final stores we decided to stop at was Nine West. A few of us parked as close as we could to the store and nearly trampled each other in our quest for the dry indoors. All around us were cute strappy sandals, classy leather heels, and gorgeously colorful handbags, but I was wilting under the effort of rain-soaked shopping. My toes were shriveled up from the freezing wetness seeping in with every step, and I was ready to call it quits. Until I saw these (or something very like them)...

...and made a beeline for them. I felt the soft fur-like lining, and I swear my toes began pinking up again in anticipation. The boots looked so soft and warm, it was all I could to do not kick my thin flats all the way to the handbag section before finding my size. I restrained myself and patiently found my boat-sized boots, slipped them on, and oh....the comfort. The warmth. The on-sale-ness. They were immediately etched on my heart. I had to have these boots.

No matter that I couldn't think of a THING I'd be able to wear them with. I don't own skinny jeans for tucking into boots, nor are any of my pants wide enough at the bottom to accommodate their furry width. I'm pretty confident that these boots will look horrific with my so-last-century clothing, but at the time, they seemed like a good idea. A fanTAStick idea.

More like a fantastically DUMB idea. If I ever find anything to wear these boots with, you'll all be the first to know.

Actually, you'll probably find out after I've been humiliated by the embarrassment of wearing them the wrong way, which is entirely likely. Meaning several people will witness my ill-fated-fashion-attempt before you. So you'll be, like, the 30th to know when and if it happens.

For now, I'm imagining them as really expensive (well, not really expensive -- I usually can't bring myself to pay more than $30 for a pair of shoes, and these maxed out that limit) house-shoes. Stylish slippers for my chilly tootsies. Fancy footwear for my home-bound feeties.

At the very least, Mia and Lauren will adore them for dress-up boots.

Does that count as a Christmas present?