Beauty is pain

I'm not sure when I acquired my vanity. Oh, sure... I was concerned with the height of my bangs and the tight rolls on the bottoms of my jeans all through high school in the 80s, but it seems to get worse as I get older. You'd think, given the fact that my feet are the size of small water skis, I would care a bit less about what I wear now than I did before. That is not the case.

Take, for example, the very sexy red patent leather heels that I purchased a few months ago. Oh sure, they rub blisters and kill my arches, but they are hot. So I continue to wear them, even though I know I'll pay the price.

Today's wardrobe selection of black pin-striped power suit and cute red blouse was accented by the sexy red shoes even though I knew I'd be walking a lot. But I looked so hot! About 10 a.m. I succumbed to the blisters on both feet and came home to change into less hot but still cute black patent leather ballet flats that make my pants too long.

Yeah, I can walk further in the flats, but at what cost? I'm less confident as I walk. Fewer people stop me to comment on my shoes.

Ah, vanity, why art thou such a strong force?

My pal Alisa told me today that you get less vain around 40. That's a mere three point two five years for me (scary!), but I don't see it happening. I'll be the gal in the nursing home with the pointy-toed high heels. At least by that time, someone will be wheeling me around wearing my sexy shoes.

Cinderella had it right all along. One shoe can change your life. Wonder if the glass slipper caused blisters?