Would you buy a pair of shoes from this woman?

She looks like she's going to a masquerade party as Tweetie Bird, except her feet decided that Looney Tunes characters weren't chic enough. The left foot wanted to go out as Disney Princesses, but the right foot said the whole Disney Princess thing had been done to death, so they decided to go out as two of the puppies from 101 Dalmatians.

Except Paris's feet were so big they had to go out as the puppies' parents, Pongo and Perdita. 

Seriously, I swear, if you listen carefully, that front foot? Is speaking with Rod Taylor's voice.

At any rate, Paris is going to be designing shoes. And we're all excited about that, aren't we?

Aren't we?

The internet picks my pocket. Again.

My excuse is that it's a snow day, so I'm stuck inside, listening to my children play video games--a sound I thought I'd be spared until 4:00 this afternoon--thinking about how much fun I'm going to have shoveling the foot of snow that has accumulated out there--and visiting an unusually large number of blogs.

I mean, an unusually large number of blogs even for me, the Baroness of Bloghopping.

Which explains how I was seduced by my friend Wendy's craft blog.

Should I just mention here that I can't knit, crochet, sew, or embroider? And my last crafting efforts--a needlepoint canvas of poppies (get it?--so you'd think I'd be motivated) is lurking in the back of my closet? And has been for about five years?

So what was I doing clicking over to A Dress a Day and clicking on her advertisers? I mean, hello, I don't do that stuff. I CAN'T SEW.

So why did I buy this from the Antique Doll House of Patterns?



I DON'T KNOW. I do actually own a sewing machine--a 1940 Singer that a friend of my mother's passed along to her. And it works. I happen to know that it sews both forwards and backwards, because about 14 years ago I actually sat down and sewed Barbie clothes for my sister's Barbie--from a 1960's pattern--as a funny Christmas present.

One little sundress took me ALL. DAMNED. DAY.

So I'm crazy. But not crazy enough to buy this:



Even though it's adorable and wonderfully retro, and at 38 Canadian dollars, quite cheap. But I know it wouldn't fit me. I have a giant noggin, and women's hats never fit me. I love hats, so this is a cruel prank played on me by my ancestors. I console myself by telling myself that my noggin is giant because it's filled to overflowing with brains.

But then I remember the APRON PATTERNS I just bought. And I realize that I'm just kidding myself.