Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Sexy Shoes & Hello, Prunes

Yesterday, two of my worlds collided. That there were just two of my worlds there is debatable. I experienced past/present, sexy/gross, fantasy/reality, ability-to-just-worry-about-not-busting-MY-face/can't-wear-heels-because-

Ok, so a lot of worlds. It was the opposite of the Big Bang Theory (I know there's a term for that, but there's a whining kid next to me in her crib, refusing to take her normally 2.5 hour nap, so I can't conjure it up at the moment).

I was in this cute little boutique in a nearby town's downtown area, enjoying the facts that I'd managed to work that stinking stroller at all, that I was in good company, and that I had some darn good (spilling as I walked down the slightly bumpy sidewalk with it in the cupholder of the stroller) fresh, delicious coffee. Life was good. It was almost what I've always known as normal.

You know how some couples say they met at a crowded bar, that their eyes met instantly across the room and everything/everyone else just disappeared? They knew they should probably not break away from their group of friends to go chat, and they could never take that person home to Mama....because they had dangerous and fun written all over them--a far cry from steady and dependable, or even remotely wholesome.

That's how it was with this patent leather, red stiletto peep-toe pump. In an instant, I knew I had to have a pair of them, even if they were (especially because they were!) cheap. Not practical, I said. I need to have flats--cute, girl-next-door, mommy-material flats. I'll never balance in those while carrying an extra 20 lbs on my hip, I thought (and I still won't, even though I bought them). Gaaah, it was sexy, glinting, winking at me under the muted lighting of the little store. Posed like a wallflower, but most obviously not a wallflower, the shoe was begging to be approached. By me.

I pushed my daughter in her stroller over to the display, trying my best not to drag the Vera Bradley purses that lined the floor along with me as I made my way over. What size? What size? Ah! There it is! A 6.5. My size. Score. Oh no! It's too big; it falls off when I walk. "Do you have this in a six?" I tried not to sound frantic as I had a brush with my former, sexy life.

They did. I tried it on. Tight. Don't care. Doesn't fall off. I will sit and look pretty, as long as they stay on my feet while I shuffle short distances and try to suck my belly in. At this point, I was sitting with one crimson shoe on, one clunky, flat ski-shoe-esque boot on, holding my daughter who'd begun to cry.

I guessed it was because she was hot and started to take off her top layer of clothing, a hot pink blanket sleeper. As I sat there with one foot quite literally in the past and the other one in the present, I felt my forearm begin to warm. Prunes. Peas. Up my sleeves and previously eaten. The crying finally stopped as my best friend dove into my purse for a cloth to help me clean up the mess.

"How are those shoes working out for you?" the sales lady asked.

At this point, I'd do anything to get some sort of groove back, so I answered, "A little tight, but I'm buying them anyway. And this smoky black loose eyeshadow too." I cleaned up, my friend (bless her soul!) took my baby for a minute while I checked out, and I bought the shoes. Now I just have to figure out a good time to wear them.


Anonymous said...


Mommy Beauty said...

Well, in that case, I absolutely have to recommend red patent leather stilettos and a pretty bra and panty set. ;) And a lip plumping gloss. I'm dying to try the new Maybelline one. Put all that on, plus some volumizing mascara, and that'll take you one step closer to sexy, even if you can't take one step in the shoes (put those on after all the kids go to bed and you're done trying to drive the van! hehe).

Connie Brooks said...

This gave me a real smile, thank you.
It took me almost a year to "Get sexy back" but finally, it all came together.

Good for you for buying those shoes!And the mascara - you can never do without that. My husband has the insane habit of grabbing mine from me and repeatedly pumping the brush up and down. Which ruins it. Same thing with the lip gloss.
Oh and breaking my hair clips.

Any tips on getting the guys to leave our stuff alone? Maybe I need to get a nice pair of sexy shoes and give him something else to think about lol.

Mommy Beauty said...

Connie, put a portable game system next to your makeup and hair stuff. He'll never touch it again. LOL

I ran it by my hubby and he agreed. hehehe