Last week I was convinced that I had officially become an Office Lady after buying two sweaters on sale at Ann Taylor Loft during my lunchbreak. Bu really I think I’ve already crept in AARP Lady (whatever became of that Buzzcocks ad campaign?).
Worishofers don’t really count as going down the dangerous orthopedic path because they were (are?) dowdy, utilitarian but German, so somehow chic. I’ve been debating whether I need new sandals for Thailand or if I should wear the dirty, out-of-vouge Worishofers that might not be known about in S.E. Asia or so out they’re in (one visit to Singapore a few years back, all the girls were wearing silver Birkenstocks—huh?). I’m fine with the simple black sandals I bought in late ’08 for the trip I’d originally planned, yet I still pine.
I need flats, stylish enough for wearing with dresses at rooftop cocktail bars 65-stories in the air with non-nuanced doormen who don’t allow shorts, tennis shoes, flipflops or “singlets” (tank tops, I learned) but also comfortable enough to wear all day and not so precious I’ll be upset if they get ruined by mud/sand or curry-stained while pushing the limits of a two-foot-high plastic chair intended for a 90-pound adult. Under $40, while we’re at it.
I like this Urban Outfitters’ pair, which are dangerously close to being ick gladiator-ish, but they’re all manmade materials, which might be gross in humid 90-degree heat. And as mentioned only 100 times before, UO doesn’t sell 9.5 so why do I keep looking at their site?
But in the summer I bought Life Stride slip ons. Life in the brand implies you have precious little time left so each step should be comfortable as possible. Hospice for the tootsies, and in beige to match my rotting foot flesh one step from the grave.
Then last week the final nail was driven into my coffin when I picked up a pair of Grasshoppers (at DSW just like Life Stride. That’s the clue—if you can buy your ugly shoes at Shoe Mall then they aren’t truly ugly, if they come from a real mall, then yes, you have your answer). Springy, jaunty, an insult, like calling a motorized scooter a Rascal.
Grandma needs to lie down now.