Short Hiatus, Right This Way
Final school exams call for a break from repelling as usual to contemplate suicide, cue the jewelry that resembles violent weaponry, and the peuter booties that match them. (See above, duh.)
Remember boys and girls, if I fall behind in school, I fall behind in life. And if I fall behind in life, you fall behind in life.
In the mean time, amuse yourself by taking a trip down memory lane via virtual library of past posts. Or don’t. It’s your life. And on that note and the beaten up booties presented above, I deliver one small holiday gifting option that will indubitably impress anyone who wears heels. Whether (s)he be a man repeller or lame brain from outerspace, I give you the Heel Condom.
I’m not playing a trick on you, they are actually called heel condoms. As you can see, they act as a condom for your heel, protecting it from city street garb, chipped or dirty leather, and…procreation. This in turn makes for some meaty subtext. Here’s to taking the single shoe-silhouette a man appreciates (plain old stiletto pump, snooze) and turning it into the funkmaster flex of abstinence. (From left:) shoe 1 indicates a red and black ruffled pom pom growing out the side of your ankle. That is awkward. Shoe 2 recalls Things That Look Like Vaginas, I skip shoe three and move to shoe 4 which reminds the male specimen that he would have liked to give you pearls somewhere else, but won’t. And shoe 5 channels Burlesque in an utmost manner of feathered-absurdity.