Walking around this city is starting to become a health hazard for me and my neck. There are too many awesome shoes in this city. (Sorry gentlemen, I am still a woman and my one true love will always be footwear.) I don't even know where these women get there shoes from or how they walk in some of them, but I have to admit: I. LOVE. IT. From shiny ballet flats to skyscraper heels, I want more. Nay, I need more. I feel like a crack addict.
The other day I was heading down my building in the elevator with my best friend and we were both deep in conversation. We stopped at a floor and two girls got on the lift, also deep in conversation. All of a sudden one of the girls says to the other "I love your shoes" and me and my friend instantly stopped talking and looked down. (She did have fabulous shoes, by the way). And then we all laughed.
I have to admit that one of the things that I admire most about New York women is that no matter how much or how little money they are making, they all have fabulous style. I will even admit that I am trying to up my stylish-ness and put-together-ness. In Miami it was so easy for me to roll out of bed and head out for the day. Make-up was a foreign concept to me unless it was after 11pm. Here in New York I find myself way more conscious of the way I look and I suppose it's a good thing; I suppose it's a part of growing up. I suppose I should, after all, look like a grown up.
Growing up scares me :