I have to wear these shoes this coming Saturday, when I accompany my dear husband to the Cavalry Ball. Aren't they cute? My sister-in-law Kasey helped me pick them out last weekend, after I bought my gown. Now, my problem. I don't think I can walk in them. I've practiced a couple of times and I just look like an idiot. I really wish I could wear my Ugg slippers under my gown, but alas, the hem is higher in the front of my dress, so you can see my feet. Drats. Halfway through my wedding six years ago, I ditched my heels and changed into sneakers - - what a relief that was. If you looked into my closet, you would wonder what all the fuss was about, because I own a vast array of pumps, boots with heels, mules, wedge sandals, etc. In the past couple of years, my shoe rack has become more of a shoe museum, and I blame my father for that. Why, you ask? Well, most of you know full well that the man knows a thing or two about shoes. A couple of years ago, while on vacation in Maine, I let my father talk me into buying a pair of Dansko clogs, pictured below.
"They are a great shoe - - worth the investment - - so comfortable and good for your feet," he claimed. "But they are SO ugly!" though I. Ever the salesman, my father won, and I was the proud owner of the most expensive pair of shoes in my vast collection. It turns out my dad was onto something. Never before had my feet had the pleasure of being wrapped in such comfort. I love my Danskos. Soon, I had a black pair, too. The problem with all of this is that once you put your foot into a Dansko, it is virtually impossible to ever wear any other type of shoe, ever again. Thus, the problem with my brand-spankin' new, super-shiny-silver-high-heeled-sandals. If you think it couldn't get any worse, you are wrong. Here is what I have on my feet right now: 
Yes, lime green Crocs. Ten times uglier than Danskos, and just as comfortable. I fear I may be in need of a Shoe Intervention.
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