Gardening In High Heels

When my friend Jenny asked me to have my picture taken in her red dress at BlogHer this year, I felt like I’d been invited home. Life is a fragile, unpredictable thing. You have to wear a ballgown to the grocery store once in awhile. Still, I need reminders. Jenny’s red dress is a vibrant reminder. So is Jenny.

I had some time to myself this weekend, so I did a little shopping just for me. I am desperately in need of new clothes. The “widow diet” has resulted in none of my old clothes fitting. I know, break out the violin. Still, I’m tired of walking around looking like a hanger with clothes on it. Not attractive. Certainly doesn’t do much for the self esteem.

I came across something today that I almost put back, until I remembered Jenny’s red dress. I don’t usually wear heels, at least not really high heels. Something about a woman towering over 6 feet can be a little intimidating to a lot of people. Then, I saw these shoes and I thought, FUCK IT.

love

They aren’t practical. They’re red patent leather. They make me 6’1”. I don’t need them.

red shoes

But this isn’t about being practical, making other people feel comfortable or fulfilling a need. This is about living, and dreaming, and red patent leather heels that make me feel like a goddess.

red toes

It’s about wearing them anywhere I want, even if it’s not practical, doesn’t make sense, and it just makes me feel awesome for doing it.

watering tomatoes

I like to think the tomatoes enjoyed it as much as I did.