Too Sexy For My Boots

There are two requirements for being a woman in Italy:
1. Legal documents
2. Sexy boots
(Not necessarily in order of importance)

I’ve been learning that a lot of my American fashion prejudices don’t apply in Europe. For instance, that nice lady at church who I thought might be a hooker… isn’t. (Note to self: Woman standing on street corner at night wearing boots and half a napkin = hooker. Woman praying at church wearing boots plus clothing = not a hooker.) I can’t help it; in my American experience, most gals coordinating their designer heels with their designer eye shadow were trying to be either Hilary Clinton or Jessica Simpson. ::Shudder x2:: Here, however, women dress up simply because they want to look nice. And they all wear sexy boots.

You know the boots–the ones that say “My calves are so sexy I have to wrap them in black leather, and my heels are so sexy they need their own four-inch pedestals, and my toes are so sexy that they are the exact shape of a pie-server, no really.” My shoe wardrobe does not say such things. My shoes say “Yo, I can skate,” even though I can’t. But here I find myself, a woman. In Italy. And there are requirements…

So I now have my own pair of authentically sexy boots (as authenticated by my husband and my own personal feelings of oo-la-la), and there are some things you should know. First, remember that song, “These boots were made for walking”? It refers to combat boots or rain boots or any kind other than sexy boots, which are specially designed for tripping. However, all pain, inability to walk, potential crippling, etc. are entirely irrelevant in the face of such podiatric cuteness. (Just like Barbie doll feet! Except so much cuter because they’re mine!) Finally, sexy boots necessitate sexy eyebrows. But that’s a different story for a different day…