Those High HEELS are not your FRIEND....

In Vegas a couple of weeks back. I tried on these killer leopard skin 3 inch cork heels. I feel in love the first time i saw them.

I guess I was all caught up in the Vegas magic as I do not normally wear heels, at all. I was eyeballing them with the intention of wearing them out for a night of clubbing and red bulls. I sat my bootie down in Steve Madden and awaited my lovely shoes.

Tucked in a beaitiful white box, my shoes were unveiled to me in my size 7 1/2's. Wrapped in plastic and stuck here and there with some type of paper molding, there were free to be put on my awaiting piggies.

I touched the velvety softness of the shoe and enhaled that "new shoe" smell. I glided the right side on my foot and felt my foot ease into something other than running shoes.

I stood up, and promptly started wiggling to and fro. DAMN, I forgot how killer heels are. I hobbled to the mirror and gazed at my pumped up calf muscle and how hard I was working the shoe. I loved, loved, loved the way the shoe rocked! However, I did not think I would last a walk down the mall let alone a night of debauchery and dancing at Rain.

Alas, it seems that my feet have gotten use to the easy spread and soft cushioning of my running shoes and assorted work shoes. No high heels in my repetoire as of late, and thus a suble spreading of my toe box that makes the squeezing of one's toes into a shape that one's foot is never supposed to be in near impossible.

I left those beautiful shoes in their pristine white box ...

Sigh..I miss pretty shoes.