Shoe Out

I hate to admit it, but I am one of these girls who gets an indescribable thrill out of footwear. As my boyfriend can tell you (go on, ask him), I have been known to rail on and on about just not “getting” girls who do not share this admiration. Surely, I posit, they are lacking a vital gene or chromosome or microchip or whatever is responsible for causing an otherwise relatively sane dame to flail, twirl, and suffer a tonic-clonic seizure when stumbling upon a specimen worthy of parting with her hard-earned fa-so-la-ti-do.
And then there are others that instill in me something akin to nausea, and cause an enormous Cooper Black question mark to hang precariously over my head like an old-fashioned safe about to slip from a strap hauling it to its destination 12 stories above. This is one such nauseator:

Behold the so-called Egypt Thong by “Cindy Says”. The description (click on the image to go to the site!) intimates that the wearer will feel as sexy and mysterious as Cleopatra, but Jodi, unlike Cindy, says that if you disgrace your feet with these things you deserve, yes, a hard and swift kick in the asp. (Come on. You were were expecting it.)
Next up: I show you a shoe that almost made me spontaneously combust.