Why : sHOES?

Shoes are everything, yes I am not Carrie Bradshaw , but every “sex and the city ” fan knows that without the shoes that movie was just about four women trying to find love in New York.

Flat shoes are very comfortable, round or pointed. Gloss or suede they do the job. It is sister Mary. She’s the catholic girl next door. She’s good but you don’t approach her if you don’t want anything serious.

Boots, these require a certain level of attention, for there are those who buy boots just for winter. There are others who know a well-worn boots under a dress or wrapped around the perfect pair of jeans can make men stare for days.

Strappy sandals, every girl’s best friend she is available for casual Saturdays under the summer dress and she’s available to go for weddings with you. She is your main girl. Lets not forget how she makes you look fragile yet classy for all your important dates.

High heeled Shoes:  Red, pink, blue, bursting summer yellow, grey or gold. There’s an extra to you as a lady once you put on heels. It doesn’t let you slouch or look like you didn’t make an effort. She makes you sexy, she is the mother hen of shoes: peep toes, wedges, and pointy shoes. She is your mum; she commands respect. She grooms you for work, for business casual, for that conference, for church and for life.

So why shoes? I say why not.

Labels and why , oh HI !! …

I always was a sucker for labels. To be identified as good, smart, intelligent, sexy, and witty. The constant need to be the perfect woman and get everyone’s approval. Whew!! It was stressful; the journey of people pleasing is so exhausting. Do you know why? Nothing is ever enough, you are kind and people think your kindness is a scam to manipulate them. You are generous and they may think you are trying to buy their affection .You are happy, you may have a secret lover.

Screw label’s, I am a weirdo. Sometimes, I am overly loud and say and do inappropriate things. Other times, I am the patron saint of love. I am unusually kind, forgiving and amiable.

Who/what makes us care about labels? We are labelled from an early age, in playgroup, that’s the shy kid, that’s the vibrant kid. In high school, the labels are: popular kid, smart kids, loose kids, born again, etc. You are the bully or you are getting bullied. Or God forbid the untouchable cool kids. Those we all want to be but love to hate. They do the most on Instagram (i.e perfect posts by the beach #waves, #summer vibes) .

Please we all drink coffee and I know it’s the Holy Grail to you but a morning run, or any workout gives you the same feeling. You don’t see a lot of #greentea posts without the chill vibes; coffee drinkers will make you believe they are zombies before coffee (I know I will get backlash for this, you guys will be ok). Yes, we tea lovers need to start a movement.

I haven’t written in a while but I am back now. I thought I was hiding behind words and not living but that was the opposite. The keyboard is the truth; I am the most authentic when I write. It doesn’t matter what people label you as; but it’s important to know whom you are and own it. That’s how you become whole.

What’s your label? Embrace, it. Except you are: a F**CK Boy, a Stalker, a con artist etc. . You need to find another label.

For the rest of us weirdos, see you tomorrow. Oh, I’m going to do a why series? Who knows why?

 

 

Daniel Thompson

I accidentally ran into an ex recently, Daniel Thompson, 36 , Brown eyes , Bulky build, and he wore his ring like handcuffs . He looked downtrodden. Perhaps, that’s how I choose to see him. We exchanged pleasantries and not long after. He asked me “Still single right? “. He had this sadness to his eyes; it wasn’t the judgmental stare that my married female friends give me when the see me at the mall on Saturday with my shorts and tank top. He looked genuinely worried, we dated a while back but it never got to the point where I could say I do or he would drop on one knee and ask the question. We had a kind of love but we kept our lives separate and never overindulged in each other’s affairs, no jealous squabbles (A very mature relationship some would say) of course, I found it boring that, he would never throw me on the bed and kiss me till I run out of breath. I found it annoying that he could never lose his calm when I was stubborn for no good reason. It felt like a business transaction to me and I promised me long ago if it’s not a fiery all-consuming love I would never marry. (We all know why, I am still single now). He grabbed my hand and I followed him, I said good-bye to my shopping cart and looked forward to tea and salad.
After, the red-haired waitress took our order after grilling us over and over about mayonnaise. He began to tell his story ” Evelyn and I dated shortly after I met you, she is a doctor (he looks to me as though I should know this so I nod) and her deposition when we were dating was one full of care and nurturing (he lowered his eyes again, he had complained that I wasn’t caring because I didn’t make a fuss every time he told me about his hypochondriac symptoms). We dated 2 years and got married. She was a virgin ( I smile, interesting) . After the honeymoon she got pregnant and we had our daughter Shelia. She quit work and decided to be a stay at home mum and I agreed because I loved her (yea, right). After giving birth to Shelia, she moved to the baby room and eats, sleeps breathes the baby. (Where is he going with this?) .I get a nanny Matilda to assist Shelia with the chores so we can bond and now she factors Matilda into everything. I got home from work earlier today and found them in bed together so I stormed off and ended up here. What do you think I should do Clara?”(I try to speak but I say nothing& thank God I am single, at times like this no attachment looks good, while preparing me to give advice that I am not qualified to give).