A Woman and Her Shoes…

A man may wear many hats but a woman wears many shoes.

If you are woman who just has a couple pairs of shoes in her wardrobe, you are rare.

I have an unusual affinity for cowboy boots. In them I feel more confident. Like I can take on the world. Unlike most women who wear cowboy boots, from time to time I wear fishnet stockings. Like my frilly underthings, fishnets make me feel feminine. Nobody needs to know they are there. I know, that’s what matters.

I have my sports shoes, flats, wedges and my strappy sandals. I have something for every occassion. Boots however are an obsession. I just love my boots. The ones shown above and my red boots are my favorites.

I also have an obsession with stilettos. However, being larger than I would like to be, I have been slightly more than apprehensive to own a pair. I even made a board on Pintrest for stilettos. I really want them but I am a big girl.

I have bought into the notion that if you are overweight, you can not be sexy. You are not allowed to wear certain things, you can’t dress in a sexy manner.

My upbringing is also part of this perception. Dressing in clothing that is too risque is shameful. Now, I don’t wear clothes that look like I was melted and poured into them nor do I wear hysterectomy pants. I do like my clothing to hug my curves in a seductive way. Sometimes, I struggle with it. I don’t want to look desperate, like I am searching for my youth again, I just want to look pleasing first for me and secondly for him.

I want to look nice for him but I exist in uniforms. When I am not working, I want to look good. I want to wear makeup, I want to have my hair done, I want my lips and nails dark red.

I like to wear my frilly things and feel girly because at work, our clothing is not girly at all.

If he notices and likes what he sees all the better.

Today, I was taking my mom shopping. I was not going to buy anything. I have just cleaned out my closet and gotten two bags of clothes out of my closet. I don’t need anything. Then I saw them….the shoes.

  A pair of sparkly stilettos. Dare I even try them on? What if I look like an elephant on stilts? What if I fall over while trying to walk through the department store? What if people laugh at me, I am a big girl, how dare I want to wear such a pair of shoes?

I took them from the shoe department to the plus size section of the store. I was going to check the price on the scanner. I will spend  plenty of money on art supplies but I never pay full price for anything but cowboy boots.

Well, they were in my budget. The department was free of on lookers. So I slid one of the shoes out of the box. I freed my right foot from my worn flip flop. Should I dare? I slid my foot into it. So far, so good. I repeated the process with my other foot.

I was actually wearing a pair of stilettos. There was a mirror on the side of the column holding the price checker. I looked at my feet in the mirror. They looked good. Sparkly and open toed. My burgundy nail polish peeking through the toes.

Dare I take a step? With my luck the first step I take, I will break the heel, fall and chip a tooth or bloody my nose.

Okay, deep breath, one step, then another. Before I knew it I was walking up the aisle like a model on the runway.

Oh MY GAWD, I can walk in them, they look good, they are the right price and honestly, I felt as SEXY as hell. I did. My first thought was “yes Cinderella, you will go to the ball”. I had to laugh at myself.

I posted a pic on social media simply because I was so happy. I had wanted these for so long.

When I got home, I let my person know and told him, kind of, how they made me feel. I kind of hinted at it. I didn’t want to admit that they made me feel sexy. I don’t know why.

So now, I will wear them with pride and a little more pep in my step, just not sure where they will take me, I am sure it will be a fun adventure.



I need to be in a place of comfort. If that be a space, a relationship, clothing and shoes, hobbies, when I sleep,  all things.

Now having said that, I do a lot of activities in the confines of my home. I dress for comfort. When I am working in my work room, honestly it is very scant. I am there in usually a tee shirt, underwear and my apron.

When I am writing, it kind of depends on what I am writing. I am trying to be tactful here so I am not going to go into much detail. Let’s just say I dress for the part.

It is part of my creative process. I need to feel what it would feel like to actually feel the part that I am writing about. It is something that makes me feel ummmm, desirable which is good when I am writing about my desires.

When I am making jewelry, I don’t worry about how I look, I wear the afore mention workroom clothing. When I am trying to promote my product, I want to look like a business woman. When I am photographing an event, I dress differently than when I am doing nature photography. When I am hiking different clothing and shoes. When I go to work the uniform. To church, dresses or skirts.

I just want to feel comfortable in what I wear, how may hair looks; currently, it has blue highlights. I have mermaid hair.

I don’t wear any of this for anyone else. I change my hair, put on makeup, dress as I wish because it makes me feel good. When I feel good, apparently it is obvious. People notice and I’m not looking to get noticed. I was actually told the other day by someone that they were watching me. Not sure what they meant by it, didn’t ask. I don’t really care anymore who is looking or watching. I am gonna do me. Blue hair and all.


I am a deep thinker. I don’t often talk to people about what I am truly thinking at any given time. I pretty much save most of the details for my journal.

I have a great deal on my mind right now about a great many things. I am pondering on the future. I need to make plans for whatever comes my way.

I want to explore, I want to make my business prosper, I want……

I want deeper and deeper.

While looking at my pinterest boards tonight, I was looking at my color boards. I have one for many colors but the color I focused on tonight was red and burgundy.

I always thought red was my color of choice but as I looked closer, the burgundy/maroon board was getting more interesting.

This family of colors were deeper. They are a mixture of red, purple and black. They are deeper colors. They a mixture of color.

I pinned shoes, jewelry, clothing, accessories, flowers. I fell down the rabbit hole, deeper and deeper. As I thought about this color, I knew what drew me to it.

I always thought I wanted a red corset but now I think should I ever make that leap, it will be burgundy. I think that the color is more sultry than blazing red. There is an air of mystery about it. Burgundy velvet with lace embellishment. I can see what I would like.

I want that mystery that goes with it. I want to feel that something as it hugs and squeezes my curves. I want to be the present that someone unwraps someday.

I want to live my entire life deeper. I want to learn more, do more, experience all of life more fully.

My World in the Palm of My Hand…

We all are attached to our mobile devices.

How many people will leave home without their cell phone? I am totally going to date myself here, but I remember the days when there wasn’t such an animal as a cell phone.

I remember when the bag phones came out. My late husband was a supervisor in the job in which I currently work, when we were dating and he had to have a bag phone in the Corsica he drove to make sure he could be in contact at all times.

So needless to say, I have see the evolution of the cell phone.

I am one of those dinosaurs that still talk on my cell phone…Oh My Word…using a phone to talk; who would have thunk it ? I am just one of those people, I want to hear your voice and I want to feel that connection.

Just today, I had to turn around at the shed below my house, why…..because I left my cell phone. This is my connection to the folks outside these walls for the next 12 hours.

Tonight, not being awake long enough today to get something to work on during my down time, I have been talking with others, listening to music, playing a game and looking through the photos on my phone. All 2,000 photos on my phone. I have needed to do this for a while to clear space. I am very selective about the photos I delete.

Why, you may ask, because images are the stories of our lives without using words.

As a photographer and having lived my own life story, I know how important photos are. They stop time. They capture those moments the can never be re-created. It is important to protect those images.

As I scrolled through the photos I saw images I have sneaked around and taken of my person because he doesn’t like to have his photo taken.

I saw pictures of my girls as they are growing and changing. They go from them just being themselves to now that they are older they pose. The hair has to be perfect and the cheesy grin has to be exact. Pictures of my great nephew the day he was born.

Pictures of my mom before she had her surgery and the change I see  in her since.

There are pictures of me and my person taken on a road trip by this dude we had only know for a few hours. It is one of my favorites (favorite enough it is my background)  I would like to have more photos of us together.

Pictures of the last Christmas lunch with my former co-workers and the fun times we had.

There are photos of clouds, butterflies, sunrises and sunsets and other things I see in the beauty of nature and there are photos of the jewelry I have made.

Then there are the selfies. Now, I know there are two camps on selfies. Here is how I see my selfies and I can only speak for me.

I am at the point in my life where I don’t see the person I used to see. Back in the day. you couldn’t have made me take a selfie. I didn’t like what I saw. Now, I like what I see. I am not talking about the outside.

What I see when I see a selfie is a woman who has grown from grief. Someone who was brave enough to make a change when her life was just an existence. Someone who loves her person so deeply that when she does take one of these photos she looks at this magic box in her hands thinking he might tell her she is beautiful. That she is his and he is proud to have her.

I see a woman who is not afraid to take risk where once she was a girl scared of her shadow.

I see a woman who has a heart for those she loves. She is  strong but tired; someone who is truly happy again. And honestly, when I think I look good, I want to capture that moment and the true smile. So if selfies serve a purpose in your life, go for it.

If you have tons of photos on your phone, I suggest you take a while and just scroll through them and relive those moments. It is a mobile scrap book that connects to the web.

What a great time to be alive, when you can carry your world in the palm of your hand.

An Investment In Me

Today, I made an investment in my self esteem. I go through times when I feel not so pretty and sometimes right down invisible. It has been one of those times.

It is not the first time I have felt this way. Probably won’t be the last.

I had gone with my best friend to do shopping for the restaurant. We turned it into a girls day. We went to the mall. She is usually more of a shopper when we go to the mall. I am more the shopper when we go to arts and crafts stores.

Normally, I don’t name names in my blog, but Torrid needs  shout out for being a store that caters to the needs of “larger” women, from top to bottom, and all those places in between.

A dress in the window caught my eye. Note to all retailers, you wanna catch a big girls attention, use a bigger mannequin.

The associate, Keshia, was very welcoming. It wasn’t like she didn’t want me in there because I’m not a size two.

She gladly showed me where the dress I wanted to try was. She got the size I asked for. I tried it on and didn’t really like it. Then I saw a white dress with black polka dots. I fell in love. I have wanted a polka dot dress forever, but wasn’t sure it was safe. When you are a “plus sized” and holding on to 29 for several years now, you tend to want to play it safe.

 I was trying to talk myself out of it. The longer I wore it, the prettier I felt.

I was particularly worried about the bootie area. My best friend assured me that it fit just fine. Keisha said that I should be proud of that part of my anatomy. She said Honey, people get injections and buy padding to get what nature gave you. She also said I love the way it hugs your curves and tapers at your waist.

I hadn’t really thought about that.

So, I bought the dress. I also bought a blouse that is a little edgier than I would usually buy. Then there some frilly things, those girly things. I felt so good that I asked if they had one particular clothing item that I have been interested in for a while.

I had never asked any retailer if they had one in stock. They did have some. The ones they had were not really my style, but it made me feel good that some designer thought enough of larger women to design for their curves.

I now know where to go back and check. She also told me they had different styles on line.

I spent way too much money. This is how I explained it to myself… I have worn hand-me-downs and things that my mom has bought for me while I was trying to see the light at the end of the car payment tunnel. I haven’t bought something for myself (clothing wise) in a very long time. And finally, in that moment, as I stood there looking into the store mirror, I didn’t see a fat woman, an ugly woman, an invisible woman. No,  here’s what I saw… a beautiful, curvy, woman. That was an investment in me.