my shoes are number twenty three
These are my Rachel Comey replacement shoes. I pretty much hate them. Uncomfortable and falling apart, they disappoint me more each time I wear them and I miss the ones they replaced. My grudge is so deeply held that I find myself cringing every time I see Rachel Comey shoes, of which there are dozens out there. Taunting me.
And, in other news, I am not finding the spring fashion emails enticing.
Bright is not right, in my book, and I am preparing to see women in horribly clashing colors all over the city.
Skinny skinny ankle jeans?
I hate them.
Don't I sound bitter today?