Confessions Of A Shoe Whore

I collect shoes the way some people collect knick-knacks.  I mean, I really sort of collect them.  I have more shoes than even I can fathom and sadly I've worn most of them only once or twice.

I have some that have never left the box.

I love shoes, I love the feel of a gorgeous high heel on my foot. The click clacking echo that resonates as I cross the wood floor.  The bend of my arch.  I love how sexy I feel just sliding my foot into something uniquely pretty.

Men don't care what is displayed on our feet, we dress for ourselves or to compete with other women, but that doesn't stop me from wanting something sexy.

On the other hand, I am a little on the heavy side and the extra weight defying gravity makes it impossible to wear more than a little while.  So I practically live in three pairs of shoes:  my tennis shoes, my loafers, and my ballet flats.  And in secret, I hoard my dreams in little boxes.

It doesn't stop me from buying them and it surely doesn't stop me from fantasizing about a lithe body, a short dress, and my feet on display in a fabulous pair of pumps.  I'll place a pretty pump on and just ogle it.

Something feminine, yet with a hint of the exotic.  Plus the classics.  I'm always surfing the internet for the next to-die-fors.

It does however keep my husband perplexed as to why I have to have more pairs.

Want to talk dirty to me?  Repeat these words:  Manolo Blahnik, Christian Loubitin, Jimmy Choo, Gucci, or Louis Vuitton.

Really want to rev my engine, say, "Want to go shoe shopping, pretty lady?  My treat."