Yesterday I went to Last Chance in search of a dress to wear tonight's soiree of sorts. Mi Amor told me I could spend 100 bucks on something new, something dazzling, something that will bring the other danes to their knees, begging me for mercy.
We ladies know that whenever we're invited to hang on the arm of our beloved at a special event, we're really just dressing to impress (or outdo) the other ladies in the room. Maybe that's not the case for you, and maybe I've just been blessed with a sick and twisted mind.
I couldn't find a dress, so I ended up buying a pair of gold flip-flops and 2 T-shirts. Instead, I've decided to wow the other ladies with a gray sheath I purchased at Banana Republic about a year ago--so last season, I know. I'm pairing the dress with a pair of 4 inch, yellower than a NY taxi cab, heels.
I can do the Running Man and Robo Cop in those heels, and so, if I feel like I'm not winning tonight's beauty parade, I'll just challenge the other ladies to a dance-off. I'll win first place.
P.S. I just measured the heels and they're actually 5 inches. Impressive, if I do say so myself.