Hooves? Really??? Are we wearing hooves now?
And Sweet Jesus if I did not see a paparazzi shot of Julia Roberts wearing these camel toed monstrosities just the other day.
And this? This? I am fairly sputtering at this: S&M meets Mr. Ed with a side order of Posh. Color me foot bound but I think I'd rather don a pair of Birkenstocks than these heinous kicks. Stay with me here, but I remember a crystal clear day in the 10th grade: my friend Tawna and I were trying to memorize the words to the entire Run DMC tape and we were so annoyed because her mom's Fleetwood Mac was turned up too high in the other room. Yesterday's gone, yesterday's go-ooone... I stood up from pegging my jeans and said, Tawna, you have to promise me we won't get stuck in time. Like, years from now, we won't be like your mother still listening to Run DMC. And Tawna, to her credit, she took the time to apply one thoughtful coat of frosted coffee colored lipgloss before she turned to me and said, no. I promise you, no. We will never be like our mothers. And I believed her, really I did. But now? All these years later, watching Katie Holmes peg Tom's jeans into silly little stumps of badly rinsed denim? I am not my mother, per se, but there is nothing like a pair of sensible, comfortable, sexless, my adidas.