brooklyn, i’m trying… to find a pair of heels that keep up with my feet.

IMG_0016i like wearing heels, and i’m ok with saying that.

i like the challenge of heels. i like the silhouette of heels. i like how they make it easier to squat and pee outside because they push your weight forward. i love how they kind of propel you forward anyway.

so the challenge, of course, is finding a pair that will keep up with everything that could and likely will happen in a night. happy hour, biking to your friend’s place, walking to the bar, deciding to hit a warehouse party instead, dancing like a maniac, buying beers at the bodega to drink by the river at sunrise, brunching somewhere that isn’t five leaves (because what the hell is going on there. why do people wait for hours, everyday. why.) (you’re right, the burger is damn good. and the mussels. and the truffle fries! jesus! you’re right. i’m waiting. right now, i just started waiting.), and finally, trying to find your way home.

the first requirement is that they cannot be less than 3 inches tall. it doesn’t make sense. if the angle between the heel and the base isn’t at least 45 degrees, you’re not wearing heels you’re just wearing complicated flats. don’t wear kitten heels unless you become a fucking cat.

now that we have the height requirement, as far as comfort goes, hidden platforms are your friend. ankle straps are your friend. zippers, buckles, any sort of light foot bondage (as long as you get permission first) is your friend.

with those loose guidelines, go crazy. go absolutely fucking wild. but just don’t make any excuses. ever. if your feet can’t keep up with your social schedule and your every rowd whim, why do you have feet. ask yourself this- why do i have feet. then stop making excuses.

here are some of my favorites this season:

little bit a sweetness, lotta bit a mischief:
tell the cops you’re already cuffed.

ready for photo and moto:
just don’t burn your toes on the tailpipe.

for your life, on the fringe:
they won’t stop shaking until you do.

perfect to pack for the trip to portugal:
learn that fado beat.

let me know what shoes you’ll be kicking ass in this summer.

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