The higher the heel, the harder the fall.

Welcome to my cozy little spot in which I blog. I have selected this spot very carefully- like lightly walking barefoot through a wooded forest whose floor is vastly covered in dark green moss that crawls up and tickles in-between my toes with each step I take, searching for that perfect tree to lay my lovely red quilted blanket that my grandmother made for me under. At last, I have found the perfect blog spot! Right here, under this full and gentle willow tree. With branches so plentiful, I must separate the thick curtain just to enter in to my retreat.  Finally, I unfold my blanket, stretching it up and out as far as it can go until the air beneath catches and assists in helping the blanket land safely on the green mossy floor. And now, I am ready to begin.

Actually. That's not true at all.  My grandmother did not make for me a red quilted blanket. Really, my lovely readers, one evening at dinner with friends (this past Saturday to be exact), I began to verbally rant on how I severely dislike it when women wear high heeled shoes that are far too high for them to walk in properly, comfortably, and even safely to events that do not in the least require shoes in the high heeled family. It was then discussed, or decided if you will, that I have a great deal of things to say that are borderline interesting and very non-pressing. And what should one do when this happens? Blog apparently. And so, with one link posted to my Facebook page from a dear friend later, my blog was born. And so now, I give you the first post from the 'Amy's in the rain' blog entitled: "The higher the heel, the harder the fall."

So, as I was saying, I really dislike the, "Let's dress up our slutty and usually mediocre outfits with 4 inch heels that also have a 2 inch platform!" outlook on a weekend outfit. I don't have anything against high heeled shoes, I really don't. I love them, honestly, but let me paint the picture for you. Its Saturday night. Fairly mild outside for a night in early March and raining lightly. I am enjoying a nice outing at the local Irish pub with some friends to celebrate a birthday. I am also enjoying a glass of Merlot when ALL OF A SUDDEN, two girls barely walk up to the bar and sit on their bar stool of choice. Two problems with this: one, they had just arrived to the bar and are already walking as though they've consumed enough alcohol to "win the night", and two, they didn't: they just can't walk because their shoes are too high. Now, like I said before, I love high heeled shoes. If they help complete an already awesome outfit then yes, ladies- go for it! But... two conditions to follow: One. You MUST walk in them properly, comfortably, and safely (as I stated above), and two, they cannot be worn to save a very ugly outfit. You cannot wear faded, light blue, ripped, skinny jeans with a white tank top and pair it with shiny, black, round toe, 4 inch pumps and say the shoes match your black bra that no one can see except for the straps that are twisted in the back, young lady- march right back up those stairs and change this instant! 

This topic has disgusted me slightly. Tune in next time for something else. Don't worry gents, there are plenty of things that bother me- not just really bad fashion. And if you don't like very long overly descriptive run-ons and cannot appreciate the subtle joke it entails, you're following the wrong blog.