Just when you though it was safe to go outside, too.
These desirable items are listed, along with an unbelievable amount of other indescribable dross, at Cafe Press. Anyway, we all need calendars, don’t we?
Come on. Only $25 a pop. You know you want one, you just won’t admit it ‘cos you just can’t get your minds right.
There really is no hope, is there? None at all.
Gunny,
That shoe pic is just too much. How could you do that to us? One glance and now -because I have been cursed with a mind that can’t help being a curious sewer-rat of the human drain, has now been unable not to dwell on what sort of masochistic authoritarian-loving shoe/foot fetishist that is aimed at. I have always tried to follow Montaigne’s admonition to himself: I am human therefore nothing human is alien to me, but….
That photo you posted asks too much. Even Montaigne himself would rebel, I feel sure. It’s not the lack of hope, it’s the lack of any scrap of dignity.
Baggy ankles.
Being a curious sort of person, I perused that site, checked out the “cause” T-shirts, and found, to my astonishment, that there are five pages, 28 items to a page, of autism shirts. Is autism the latest trend? Or is it the trend to boast of any disorder or disability on one’s clothing? All the other “cause” T-shirts seemed to be touting cancer. There didn’t appear to be any for Down Syndrome or ALS, though.
Bluth,
I suppose snakeskin-induced bunions are human in a sense, but that’s no reason to volunteer for a pair. Console yourself with the thought that the very idea of dignity would be impossible without any contrasting lack of it, the revelation of which may thus be deemed a service even to dignity itself…
I’m not surprised, though, that the Imelda of the Logging Boots chooses to change the subject.
One pair of The Coolest Logging Boots Ever does not an Imelda make. Geez… Of course, if you count all the pairs of work boots, hiking boots, snow boots… Hmm, erk.
Lotta free time on your hands, Gunny?
Brings new meaning to “These Boots Were Made For Walking”
The difference between the 60′s and now= it’s the heels.
Madame,
I see, and stand corrected. One of these days, though, you really should explain how one dresses one’s feet when hiking through the snow to work at the logging camp. But I suppose that one of the attractions of high fashion has always been that the rules elude the hoi polloi.
Wings,
Naw. We had plenty of heels back then. Nancy Sinatra came from a whole family of them.
I gave up the spikes in my early 30′s because i value my back. Stick to the kitten heels now for shoes and boots, nothing over 2″. Liking to wear heels every now and again is yet another plus to liking big boys. (And yes smartasses, it is me who wears the heels, and the boys who wear the pants.) But as i’m currently living in a wasteland, it tends to be surf flip flops from March to November anyway.
Natasha – All you need to know is that I know the rules (my rules, that is) and that I will instruct you when necessary.
Amy – Flip flops are a hot fashion item in Vermont, in every season except the deepest of winter. At my daughter’s college graduation, a typically cold and wet spring day, most of the graduates wore flip flops with their gowns and caps.
Madame -
That’s awesome! They probably do here too. As i live is a pseudo-surf town, there is no shortage of flip flop choices here. I usually go for plain black Tevas, it’s like walking on clouds.
I also thought meow too! Tough noogies.
Interesting, you guys are all concentrating on the image portrayed in the photo. What worries me is that the photo is one of at least 12 included in a calendar, all of which, I am guessing -but do not wish to find out- are more photos of more of of her shoes, all with her feet in them. What worries me is not what the shoes look like or the feet or the ankles, but who on earth would buy the photos. And why, of course. It’s the why that really turns my gullet. Bleah….
Bluth -
It’s entirely possible that no one bought it. Seriously.
Bluthner – Some of us make a concerted effort to block out thoughts of the truly creepy. Of course, now you’ve made that impossible. Thanks a lot.
As for baggy ankles, I thought maybe that is a normal aging thing. So I did a scientific experiment by taking off my thick wool socks and standing tippy-toe to simulate the position of feet in spike heels. Nope, I do not have baggy ankles, which knowledge is a tremendous relief. There’s enough bagginess to worry about without that added insult to vanity.
Leave it to me to provide a little balance. Here’s November.
I enjoyed the last discussion, by the way: the influence of place. Not finding a lot of time to write these days, but have been reading away.
Madame,
Maybe, come spring, you could find a pair of logging boots with ankle-revealing cutouts. I’m sure Vogue would take notice…
Bluth,
You know, I never used to believe that rumor about you being Erskine, but it strikes me that you’re protesting just a tad too much…
Bim,
Re November: at least both hands are visible…
But for how long, Natasha, for how long…
Ha, ha, ha, ha. Did you check out the expression of the oldish guy sitting in the front row? Ha, ha, ha, ha.
Di, exactly! Him with the hands!
I see that in November they’ve airbrushed out the ankle wrinkles.
Bluthner to Natasha: “But for how long…?”
My question exactly. Being human and all, nothing is alien to me (and some things less than others).
Natasha – I will pass your suggestion on to the nice men at the logging boot store. Once they pick themselves up off the floor, they’ll be happy, I’m sure, to hunt up such footwear as they will realize it would become all the rage among lady loggers.
Madame,
Re lady loggers: especially them as don’t fear Apollo guiding the arrow of Paris ankleward…
Heh heh.
This is just the tip of the , um, iceberg, folks.
Did you know there is a site called “Wikifeet” (the “collaborative celebrity feet website”).
No?
Neither did I. But we do now.
For the record, I have never, ever, not once in my life, seen a woman walking (?) in high-heels who looked anything other than bizarre.
To this day, when out and about in places where one is likely to see such phenomena, Mrs g has to reel me in so my open-mouthed bemusement does not attract attention. I’ve never got used to seeing it, and each time I do the surprise and bewilderment is as fresh as ever.
I remember when she-who-must-not-be-named had that “debate” with Joe Biden, and the press the next day was full of articles about — what was it — “red naughty-monkey pumps”, as the moment when I was flung irretrievably into the realization that this Republic is doomed.
Doomed, I tell you.
We all connect the dots in our own distinct ways, don’t we?
Oh, and you guys wouldn’t know a logging boot if it jumped up and bit you in the ass. Nothing personal.
Here you go.
Gunny – I cannot believe you are dissing my boots, which are in fact official logging boots of the type actually worn by actual loggers in these here parts, and very similar to what are actually called logging boots on that site you linked. So there.
Hate to tell you this, Gunny, but that picture’s a dead ringer for a lot of what has overflowed Somebody’s closet and is now busily taking over the living room. You’d be surprised how well they go with the green gypsy skirt. Nothing personal, though.
Why, thank you, Natasha. You know, of course, how I pride myself on my own special – I would almost say “unique” – style of chic-ness.
now what does it say about me that, between Gunny’s logging boots and the un-named un-nameable’s footwear…. Iwant the logging boots.
I’m betting they are snake-proof, too. Which in some places still counts for a lot.
It means that, alas Bluth, we can only be just friends.
Gang, I’m sorry I missed this joy, yesterday.
A friend, GOP but with a functioning brain, gave me a kitchen magnet last year. It featured that smiling face for whom a name shall not be uttered. The caption was:
“Thinking gives you wrinkles!”
That puts Mr. Hands, the goof in the November shot, into a bit of perspective.
It has always been the brainy gals for me. They are a lot more fun to wake up with.
I hope you’re not implying that girls who wear heels don’t have brains. Or can’t fight like dudes when the situation warrants it.
(Just for the record, those particular ones it is wearing are butt ugly.)
Porny:
Oh hell no, I would never imply or state any such thing.
Just relaying a funny, for the start of this good day.