“Hello lover.” -Carrie Bradshaw, Sex and the City, window shopping.
I wouldn’t consider myself to be a materialistic person. I wear the same jeans religiously throughout the week, if my hair gets done it’s either a) on accident or b) someone else took it upon themselves to fix it out of frustration and as long as my bucket car gets me from point A to point B, then I’m all good. I did have a sugar daddy once, but that was a circumstantial situation. Seriously, he came to me and basically forced me into letting him buy me things. How could I say no? Who me? Gold digger? Never!
Anyway, since college, my need for materialistic things has significantly deteriorated. I went from buying make-up and purses to splurging on alcohol, Gatorade and Tylenol.
However, when it comes to shoes I have a serious problem. I always have to have the latest and the greatest. I remember in high school, my mom got me this credit card for emergencies. Those “emergencies” often transformed into a new pair of pumps or tennis shoes.
“But it was an emergency mom,” I said. “They were on sale and will go perfect with this one outfit I have.”
Justification approved. Ha ha mom! You sucka! I’m just kidding. No really, I am. (Oh sh*t, mom if you’re reading this, please still buy me things)…
Anyway, back to my point, shoes. I love shoes. The first things I notice on other people are their shoes. I have a prejudice against people who wear bad shoes. It kills me walking down the street to see someone wearing these…
I don’t care how comfortable they are… 
Nope, don’t know what someone killed to make those, but I’m not feeling it…Those are what I would call a fashion, “oh hell no!” or “oh no she didn’t!”
