Stylish Thought

I’ve been called a lot of things… hyper, silly, erratic, but most of all DRAMATIC. It’s a way of life I’m accustomed to. And it pervades all aspects of my life; my relationship, my friendships and mainly my wardrobe. So to a self-proclaimed "Drama queen" with a flair for the (obviously) dramatic, the new trend of "minimalism" is earth-shaking and mind rattling.

Is it me or is the palate of black and white limiting? (just a thought here) and how does a thrown on white tee and black jeans speak to creativity. Now, this isn’t to knock anyone who subscribes to this style, in actuality I admire those girls who can throw on something as simple as a cardigan and skirt, walk out the house in a fit of effortless beauty. There’s something elusive about them. Sadly I do not belong to this tribe.

Since the age of 5, piling on layers of candy necklaces and ring pops, dressing in garish colors and absurd accessories was my thing. The old adage, "take off one accessory before you leave the house" doesn’t apply and ever since a family friend scolded me for wearing black, I’ve dressed as loudly as possible. All of this is not to say that dressing over the top is fashionable, but the minimalist trend seems well a bit minimal.

There are many things in life that benefit from understatement; like your undergarments perhaps. But outerwear should shout something to it’s viewers, like "I’m a colorblind weirdo with a penchant for headgear" or "I love acid wash denim and mini rosettes." Even if one sticks to a simple b&w palette, the accessories, my God the accessories must add something to the ensemble. It’s my belief that every piece we were says something about our taste. And if personal style speaks volumes then minimalism must be saying, "I can’t be weighed down by all those trivial things. This tank is quite cool enough." And to that I say, "Carry on, while I loudly walk by."

With the imagination of a three year old, you would think I was an only child. My mind manifestations are actually the result of being one of 5 children who often locked herself in the bathroom, to have hours upon hours of ME time. It was during this me time that I would concoct stories about my childhood, friends in my head and places I would visit. Needless to say, this habit has stayed with me and shows no signs of letting up.

Case in point: Shoe-Fly the elusive shoe dragon who is good natured and much like the Tooth Fairy (no relation) leaves secret shoes in my closet when I’ve done something particularly good. It’s karma for the 21st century. Well, if you haven’t caught on then you must know that Shoe-fly is actually me and doing something good could amount to giving my seat to an elderly person or simply stopping after the 2nd (ok 3rd) cookie. But we’ll leave me to my delusions.

Shoe-Fly is a mythical beast, with long falsies, red lacquered nails and a penchant for a fetish stiletto heel and has always brought me the most joyous shoes. It seems that no matter what’s going on in my life, Shoe-Fly knows the exact heel height, color and style to lift my spirits and my stride.

Like on the occasion of some rather disappointing news, I felt like my life was in shambles and the only way to a meal ticket was to hike up the hooker boots and get things poppin’. Lo and behold, Shoe-Fly bestows me with a pair of Pleaser thigh high boots. I never resorted to the pole, but the extreme heel gave me a boost in morale and some major sex appeal.

Or another tale when love was fresh and new, much like the gladiator trend, and a pair of to-die-for Nine West shoes were top of my list. Shoe-Fly (read: boyfriend) blessed me with a pair of brown leather wedges. They now tread heavily down city streets hand in hand with my love.

My latest encounter with Shoe-Fly was one of divine intervention. While browsing the regular shoe haunts (Zappos, Aldo, Nine West, etc…) I stumbled upon a pair of wedges that had eluded me in the past. Clearly a sign. After much searching Shoe-fly delivered the Teardrop wedge to me at nearly 50% of the original price. Ah Shoe-fly does make dreams come true.

I guess you’re wondering what all this waxing poetic means to you. Nothing really I guess, except every girl needs a Shoe-Fly. If only for mild pick-you-ups or when that shoe seems to pop up in your mind. Maybe this tale will inspire you to let a little Shoe-Fly in your life.