When I was growing up we had this front closet that was always jammed full of crap. There were a bunch of scarves, including crocheted ones that my grandmother made with our initials on that we never wore, my spiderman ski mask--though I have never skied, those twee mittens on strings so we could not lose one but possibly hang ourselves getting ready to go out in the snow and a big giant pile of boots. I used to like to hide in the closet and try everything on--like a big cold weather version of the makeover scene from Pretty Woman.
My favorite things in the world were my mother's high heeled snow boots.
Now that I am an adult I wonder what the fuck she was thinking with high heeled snow boots. Especially in Iowa were there really was a lot of snow and ice. But at the time I thought they were unspeakably glamorous and obviously what I would wear when I grew up.
This is my only (weak) defense for what comes next. I wore my regular high heeled boots to work today. I didn't think much about how the park and ride would be a sheet of ice. Or how no one shovels so there would be drifts blocking every sidewalk a foot deep. I didn't think really. So I trotted off to work in my Jessica Simpson (MORE SHAME) boots and basically skated around the park and ride in front of a lot of people.
When my bus didn't come (for hours), I finally drove a friend of mine in and she screeched at me. Which is how I found myself buying real boots at lunch. Warm and cozy, very practical, and miraculously on sale. I say miraculously because every woman in Seattle was buying boots today.
They don't have high heels though. Adulthood is nothing like how I thought it would be.