Friday, February 17, 2012

He who must not be named

As you read this, I am on my way to D.C., but I wanted to leave you with some shoes for thought.

At the height of irresponsibility is your good old shoe pal Erin. My dirty secret is that I am ridiculously messy. To the point of embarrassment -- possibly even "Hoarders". This doesn't end with my car.

So, because of this messiness, I didn't realize that a SHOE fell out of my car as I was putting stuff in it, and I proceeded to shut the door, get in, and drive away. Of course this doesn't have a happy ending. This is what I came home to:

When I told my sympathetic shoe friends I was immediately asked... "May I ask... who it was?" Who it was indeed. If you're reading this Msr. Louboutin, and are inclined to help out a sad shoe lady who is sorrowful about the loss of "Double Strapper" (a vintage style, no longer in production), I am a 37.

All things considered I am pretty impressed. I ran over this shoe. With. A. Car. For the most part it's still held together and the break is clean at the heel. I could probably get them fixed (though it might be expensive), and while not good as new, would be decent. Otherwise my plan is to turn the other shoe into a wine holder or some other crafting extravaganza.


  1. Oh no! Rest in peace, poor shoe.

  2. This is so sad! I hope you can somehow find a new mate for it.

  3. As a shoe lover myself, I can't debate what is worse. Killing your shoe, or having one pair go a-wall?