Category Archives: Here Comes the Bride

That Hooker Bride and her Shoe Dilemma

I have been talking about weddings a lot. Huh, must be getting married. Still, this seems sort of uncharacteristic for me as I’ve pretty much tried to keep a low profile as “Bride”. For the purposes of this post, disregard that.

I bought 3 pairs of wedding shoes. I only have one pair of feet. You do that math.

There are certain dilemmas that prevent me from being able to have carte blanche on what I choose for my foot regalia on August 7, so it has been a bit of a challenge to find the perfect shoe (that no one will even see until the garter segment of the ho-down reception and at that point they will be too busy waiting to see if Stockton will be a gentleman or a ravenous pig when removing said garter to even care about the shoes). Here are the necessary criteria that a shoe must have to be appropriate and a feasible option:

1) Wedge. This would’ve been ideal because we are getting married outside and my aisle is grass. Grass that could be mushy, just dying to suck down the clean, white stiletto on any over-priced pair-o-pumps I fall madly in love with, just to ruin during the processional.
2) Not terribly high. Don’t get me wrong, I love a high heel. Towering would be the better adjective. If I were 5’1″ (My idea of the ideal height for a woman, perfect for fitting under the arm of a gentleman while still wearing 6″ heels), I would be wearing stilts. But I’m 5’4″ and although that doesn’t seem that tall, when you put me in 6 inch-ers, I become taller than my dad. No offense dad, I think you’re perfect and good news for you, Mom is practically a midget! Hi, mom 🙂
3) Blue. I would’ve loved blue shoes, until I started looking and found NOTHING that was cute and blue. Also, I was totally off base thinking that blue wedding shoes was a Courtney Helman original idea, because nope, totally common and overdone. Soooo, that idea is out the window.
4) White. That’ll have to do.

I had purchased a pair of shoes in March, very much on a whim, because they fit every criteria and were on the so-so side of attractiveness. This was good enough, but after a few weeks, I wanted to see what else was out there. So I bought another pair. And then I bought another pair, and before you know it, I had $400 worth of wedding shoes, and I am not a $400 worth of wedding shoes kind of girl. Rather my wallet wouldn’t allow me to be a $400 wedding shoes kind of girl. But if I were, I’d be rockin these.

Hilariously, these are out of my “In my wildest dreams, and with this crazy huge budget of $400 for shoes, I would get these bad boys” budget. By about $300. WHAT THE HELL!?!?!?

I purchased this pair of Badgley Mischkas, which I outright died over online and then when they got on my feet, I died again for a minute, but only until my mom called them “those hooker bride shoes” which, gotta tell ya, has a total way of raining on the parade of shoes. Not to mention that height issue???? These not only added 6″ to my height, they had a way of making me look like a Daddy Long Legs. Who doesn’t love that??? Problem: you can’t really tell from the photo, but they are covered in white netting. Which was, um….. weird, to say the least. However, I don’t discriminate when it comes to Badgley, and I loved them just like I would a first born.

This is the second pair, eerily similar, but basically the preppier version of the former. I love the big satin bow, and it does my heart good because a lot of other aspects of the wedding are just very classic and formal, so these seemed to fit the bill. Problem: They came with a very slight little smudge on the toe of one of the shoes, and I just knew that white, satin shoes would yield some serious nasty stains after a raucous party like ours will be. Ha.

Despite all the loveliness and perfection that Badgley can impart on a pair of shoes, I had to say goodbye to both pairs in order to a) save my ankles from permanent damage, b) save my dad’s height complex from permanent damage and c) save my psyche from permanent damage after hearing my mother tell me I looked like a hooker bride for the next 3 months. (They were totally not hooker shoes…. Let me just clarify THAT right here and now. She’s just a miniature person and was spitting ENVY in her mean words.)

Not going to show you the third pair for two reason:
1) They aren’t as cute. Sad.
2) They are my wedding shoes, and those are akin to the dress, and that, my dear readers, is kept in the top secret file of all weddingness.

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