Super Hero Boots, Where’s Waldo, and Please Make Bud Stop Picking His Nose

Not much happened today, so I’ll resort to talking about my boots again.

I went ahead and wore my shabby Super Hero boots to church today.  They’re only a little shabby, and I knew I wouldn’t see B (she’s the shoe police), so it would be ok.  I can’t wear them very often because they don’t quite go with most things, but I love, love, love them.  I call them Super Hero boots because they look like Supergirl’s boots, just not bright red.   They look best when I wear my cape with them, like I did today.

Ok, it’s not a real cape, it’s just a long sweater, but it feels like a cape.  It’s the same sweater cape that I wear to the skating rink so it can swoosh out behind me.

When I first got dressed this morning I went with the lower heeled boots because they’re more practical.  They were ok and went with the outfit well enough.  (The picture is a dramatization recreated this afternoon.  I would never subject you to ghastly pictures of myself from early in the morning.  Our Founding Fathers outlawed such things.)

Ho-hum, but they work.

(Aside: See the sweater tights?  I love the sweater tights!  They’re little sweaters for my legs, but they’re not leg warmers.  Which is good, because while leg warmers were an excellent idea, they lost something in the execution.)

For fun, I tried on the Super Hero Boots with their larger heel, because I really miss wearing my Super Hero Boots.  No good.  The boots overpower the outfit and look really, really dumb.

No, no, and no.

Buuut…when I put on the cape—yes!  They look great with the cape!  Turns out, you just can’t wear Super Hero Boots without a cape.  The cape makes the outfit.

Much better! All it needed was a cape.

I wish we could wear whatever we wanted.  I mean, really wear whatever we wanted.  No, I don’t mean like, “I don’t care what anyone thinks, I’m going to wear my Ratty Family Sweatpants to Walmart and people shouldn’t judge me no matter how hideously I clothe myself.”

Which reminds me of the time that R’s boyfriend gently and respectfully approached his neighbors who would endlessly honk their car horns, cuss people out, and wear their Ratty Family Sweatpants everywhere they went.  Very softly, he told them that they were being so rude because their self-esteems were bad and that it was ok, because they are valuable human beings and he loved them and would never judge them.  But could they please stop honking their car horns and cussing people out?  Yeeeah.  That conversation went about as well as you’d expect it to go.  Ideological twenty-year olds make the world go round.  Gotta love ‘em.

No, no.  When I say we should dress the way we want to, I mean, if one wanted to wear a cape, a real cape, then one could.  Or pirate clothes.  Or a wedding dress for everyday.  Or cowboy hats and boots.  Or shiny silver clothes from the future, like in seventies science fiction shows.

I’ll bet that somewhere in New York City is a person who wears whatever they want every single day, including the cowboy hats and shiny silver clothes.  It’s always Halloween, only without all the free candy.  If I could get away with it, I’d wear my pirate costume tomorrow.  My Super Hero Boots go reeeeally well with the pirate costume.

—————————–

Aww.  I was looking for the picture of me in my pirate costume and found this picture of Jimmy at the concert.  Told you he could be spotted in a crowd of 80,000.  I was standing on the stadium steps when I took this random crowd shot.  It wasn’t until the picture was developed a few weeks later that we looked at it and someone said, “Hey!  There’s Jimmy!!”

—————

Oh!  I found this one, too!  Pam is praying, “Please, God, make my husband stop picking his nose.  I promise I’ll never complain about him again–just make him stop! “

————

Well, I can’t find my pirate costume picture and I’m too lazy to dress up in it and take a picture right now.  Here’s the costume, but when I wear it somehow my stomach manages to stay covered.  Oh, and no cleavage shows when I wear it, either.  That poor woman in the picture.  Someone gave her a faulty costume.  She’s a valuable human being and we won’t judge her.

Advertisements

Oo! A comment!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s