Travel (To Boston)
Well hello there, my loves! I regret that I have not posted for over a week, as I have been away from my computer, visiting my friend Maggie in Boston. If you have been to Boston (or lucky you, live there at this moment), then you know what a beautiful, incredibly historic city it is. It may not be easy to drive through, as any New Yorker will point out, but it is chock full of trendy spots and gorgeous architecture.
Fashion-wise, Boston was nominated as worst-dressed last year by GQ magazine. Despite this, I eagerly took note of how Bostonians dressed everywhere I went, from Cambridge (a city apart from Boston) to Jamaica Plain (a trendy neighborhood, not unlike Brooklyn) to Beacon Hill and Newbury Street (think New York’s 5th Avenue, but Boston-style) to South Boston, affectionately called “Southie.”
I expected to see super preps everywhere I looked, especially in Cambridge. I did in fact see lots of chic, preppy styles, but I saw even more ruggedly polished hipsters. I disagree with the (rather mean-spirited) GQ article. After all, Boston is not, say, New York and it’s not meant to be. In fact, it is very proud not to be New York! I saw plenty of men and women wearing incredibly on-point outfits. In fact, the very college students that GQ blasts were the ones that I found to be so well-dressed. I couldn’t take my eyes off of a young woman’s olive-green wedge booties, delicately rimmed with faux fur. She was sitting across from me on the T (Boston’s subway line) with her just-as-fiercely-trendy friends at her side. It’s safe to say that I loved Boston to the nth degree and plan to make a trip back as soon as I can.
Beware the Pitfalls (literally) of Painful Heels
I didn’t stop traveling once I got home from Boston, which was on a Wednesday. I was ecstatic to be commuting into New York City (an hour and a half train ride from my house) on Thursday and Friday for two different writing pursuits.
Friday I decided to dress up a bit more than usual. I wore a short-sleeved black sweater with a bright teal pencil skirt and black tights. On my feet I wore black suede pumps. I didn’t think much before slipping them on; they matched my outfit and I had worn them to the city before. I figured I would have no problem wearing them. Boy was I wrong! They started to get uncomfortable as I walked from my car to the train station, about 200 feet. My heel kept popping out of the back of the shoe, causing me to nearly topple over or lurch to the side in an oh-so-sexy way. Add to that a limp that gradually increased with the pound of each step due to my sore soles and I was a sight for, well, sore eyes.
By the time I got out of Penn Station and was walking (read: hobbling) along 34th Street to the subway station at Herald Square, I was behaving not only as if it were my first time in heels, but my first time walking on land. It must have been painful to watch! I looked longingly at an H&M as I very slowly passed by, wishing I had time to dash in and buy some inexpensive, low-heeled pumps, but alas, I was out of time. It would be an understatement to say I felt ridiculous. I arrived breathless, a few minutes late, to my job because of my laboriously slow pace.
On my lunch break, you can bet that I wobbled out of the building I was working in and burst onto 5th Avenue, only to find (what luck!) another H&M right on the corner. I spotted sensible heels that matched my outfit in less than five minutes. I didn’t realize until I got to the register that they were a cool $60 – ouch! But I didn’t have much time left on my break and I was desperate. I flew back up the street (at a snail’s pace) and made it to the 33rd floor of my building just as my break was ending. Phew!
The real dilemma was that I was meeting my friend Sam for dinner after work and I couldn’t bear having to suffer anymore on my feet. I was so thankful for the H&M shoes, no matter what the cost. Despite the painful blisters that had built up, my new pumps were like a breath of fresh air. I might have been walking on puffy white clouds, compared to my black shoes. I was able to enjoy the rest of my night without looking like a total nitwit (or worse yet, fashion road kill.)
The moral of the story? Well, first off, I need to get more practice walking in heels, since I am obviously rusty. Secondly, this whole extravaganza proved how important it is to test drive or at the very least “break-in” heels before trampling across New York City in them. If your heels are popping over the back of the shoes or your foot is stuck in a painful position, it’s just not worth it, no matter how great they look or how low the price tag is. Take it from a girl with the blisters to prove it.
I can’t help but question the phrase my grandmother used to quote, “Il faut souffrir pour être belle.” You must suffer to be beautiful. There are limits to everything and in the end, no one looks good hobbling down the street in obvious pain, no matter how gorgeous her shoes are.
Here’s to finding creatively trendy looks that are (dare I say?) comfortable too!
(Pictured above are Boston’s Trinity Church and the John Hancock Tower, the tallest building in the city, taken by yours truly.)
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