Frenchified

When I lived in Toulouse I walked EVERYWHERE.  After having lived in So Cal and driving my bootay all over creation for 22 years before moving to France, walking and biking took some getting used to.  My feet hurt, my bum hurt, but I survived and am now an avid walker. 

My biggest challenge was finding the right shoes for all this walking.  While my Frenchie boyfriend encouraged me to wear talons aiguille, I was more inspired by my friend H's clogs which she wore during her bartending shifts.  They looked so comfortable and amazing that on my next trip out to the states I bought a pair of Dansko clogs - AKA nurses shoes only black.

When I got back to Toulouse and tried them on for the French copain, he just about flipped his camembert cheese. Mais, mais...ce n'est pas possible ça! C'est trop moche! Quel bordel! Vous, les Américains! ohlalalalaalala

In defiance I wore them out once anyways - (Frenchie quick-walked up ahead with embarrassment) and as if to spite me, my beloved Danskos gave me blisters. They then went under my bed and held things like expensive jewelry in the toes (just in case my apartment got robbed again!).

I reminice about the Danskos because just this Thursday I woke up with swollen, throbbing feet from an event that went late the night before.  My Geox ballerina flats are a good idea in principal (and definitely better than heels) but they just don't provide the support that my old dogs need.  At any rate, as I lie in bed hitting snooze every five minutes, I started to think about what shoes I might wear to work that would actually be comfortable.  Converse? too casual. Boots? too high a heel. Dansko????......

But I couldn't do it. They ARE hideous. a bordel. trop moche. What would the Croisette crowd think?  How could I blind the eyes of Dior and Louis Vuitton like that? It was inhumane. And so under my bed they stayed and will stay...I have been Frenchified my friends.