Remember how I was just saying that Neiman Marcus can be kind of tacky? And then whined about how much I lusted after their exclusive 100th anniversary Salvatore Ferragamo shoes?
Well, the Ferragamo shoes are on back-order. I can whine as much as I want; they're not showing up in my mailbox any time soon.
So I ordered these Kate Spade beauties.
The Katarina pump. Named, I have no doubt, for the Empress of Russia.
I'm adding my own pictures so you can see the skyscraper heels, which came as something of a surprise.
As you can see from the NM picture, they're not really in evidence on the web site.
I wore my Catherine-the-Greats to a very arty benefit on Saturday night. The kind of arty benefit where the men are little and skinny and have creative facial hair and wear architect glasses and either gel their hair or shave it all off and carry man bags, and the women wear something Arty, which on the young ones is usually short and many layered and sticky-outy so they look kind of like a frill at the end of a lamb chop bone--and on the older ones is longer and many layered and monk-like with a big artistic necklace.
And I showed up looking like the back end of the bourgeoisie in a little black dress and some nice jewelry.
But I had on some truly fierce shoes.
And they were comfortable! OK, they weren't all bad, considering the amount of time I spent standing around staring at art.
I attribute this to the extreme Minnie Mouse roundness of the toes:
Sadly enough, these shoes are shaped like my feet. No, I'm not Cinderella's ugly stepsister who went to extreme lengths to make the shoes fit. My toes really are that short.
Oh, and how do you like my leopard print carpet? Somebody cut off my toes, but damn! I'm still sex-ay.