A word form Coco Chanel:
I don’t understand how a woman can leave the house without fixing herself up a little – if only out of politeness. And then, you never know, maybe that’s the day she has a date with destiny. And it’s best to be as pretty as possible for destiny.
It is hard to argue with that logic. As I discovered last week, pretty goes a long, long way toward getting what one wants, but also can cause painful blisters. On the other hand, yesterday I got two pairs of the world’s most comfortable flip flops in the mail – I feel like I have been walking on the beach all day. Must I choose between destiny and foot health?
(Surprisingly, it was not the 4.25 inch power heels that did the damage, but a demure little pair of sandals that helped me get a fee waived and access to a closed computer lab to print my final, all while removing a swath of skin on my right little toe. Apparently pretty carries risks that slutty does not. Sigh. Sometimes it’s hard to be a woman.)
