Wedding heels: the verdict

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It’s the moment you’ve been waiting for: which pair of shoes did Megan select for her wedding?

Pins and needles, I tell you. You’ve barely gotten any sleep, right? But after my original post with my three main choices for heels, I ordered the top two — Nos. 2 and 3 — and waited (im)patiently for them to arrive from Zappos. Once I’d ripped into that box, I nervously unwrapped each and began inspecting them. They both looked great.

Ordering “the perfect shoes” for our big day has been a source of anxiety. Like so many aspects of my attire, I want to look great but don’t want to be uncomfortable. Finding a red heel with a peep toe that wasn’t too high was my goal, and both of these shoes came through. But once I tucked my tootsies into each and walked the hallway in a circuit long enough to really befuddle my golden retriever, eyeballing my progress around the downstairs in very loud shoes, one pair was the clear choice.

So which was it?


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. . . pair No. 2!

While I love the look of the bows and the sheen of pair No. 3, my toes were squished in those babies. They have a higher heel — one that would put me at eye level with my fiance (weird!) — but, most critically, they were not easy to walk in. I didn’t feel stable in them — and as Spencer pointed out, I apparently didn’t look stable in them, either.


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On the contrary, the second pair are very sturdy; as I strutted around, I lacked the “newborn foal” wobbly legs associated with the bow heels. I do wear heels to work and am used to fancy shoes, but some are just better than others. With so many things being equal (price, color, style), I had to choose the pair that felt the most comfortable . . . and that was definitely pair No. 2.


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Done! Decision made! I love nipping my weird anxieties in the bud and just getting things done. I adore crossing wedding-related items off my list, especially when they’re things I’ve been worrying about, and always feel so great having just made up my mind.

Now to decide on jewelry . . .


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Red shoe rankled

Disclaimer: this is a long post . . . about shoes. Grab a latte or duck out and save yourself while you can.


This July finds me a sweaty, red-faced bride . . . on a continued hunt for red shoes.

From the earliest stages of wedding planning, I’ve been specific about one aspect of my “vision”: that on my wedding day, I would glide (or, um, hobble. Whichever) to my fiance in a tea-length dress and red heels. When I found the perfect gown without too much trouble, I figured — naively, perhaps — that the shoes would follow suit. I’m as picky about my feet as the next woman, I’m sure, but I’m not a shoe hoarder . . . nor someone who typically has a hard time finding shoes.

But.

rsvp shilaThese heels, friends. These elusive, wacky, unknown and mysterious red heels. I’ve shopped in-person, I’ve shopped online, I’ve prowled the dustiest corners of eBay and Amazon and DSW and, lately, Zappos — where today’s selection originates. I actually ordered one pair of red heels on clearance directly from David’s Bridal, but losing weight has meant losing weight everywhere . . . and those heels no longer fit. I tried padding them with special inserts but, even if the slack in back could be taken up, the peep-toe — though adorable! — pinches my tootsies. Big time.

Of the many aspects of the wedding day we have to finalize, finding these dumb shoes is what’s making me the cuh-raziest. I have my first dress fitting in three weeks and am under orders to have my shoes with me. Because I’m wearing a shorter dress, though, I figure I won’t have the length issue many other brides do; as someone on the petite side, I know all about garments that run too long. So as long as I have a pair of heels with me, that should be fine, right?

Eh. Don’t mind me, over here mumbling nervously to myself.

Regardless of whether I will have the shoes in question for the fitting, I need to make a decision and check this off my list. I am going batty looking for red heels, friends, and while it was a fun little hunt at first, I’m starting to get nervous and frustrated. I’ve taken to bridal message boards for recommendations; I’ve badgered friends and bloggers for the origin of their own wedding shoes. I’ve made a giant pest of myself — all in the name of heels! — and it needs to stop.

So maybe that’s where you come in.

If I wasn’t so OCD, maybe I wouldn’t be in a blind panic about shoes right now. But being

a) a woman;
b) a woman who has attended many formal events; and
c) a woman who has attended many formal events and had her feet kill her,

I’m serious about finding shoes I can actually wear. Given that I’ll be on my feet for a good six hours or more on November 10, I’m not playing around. I don’t want to be thinking about how much my feet hurt in my wedding day. Friends have recommended doing the flip-flop thing for the reception, but I’m just not down with the idea. Everyone will see my feet. No flip-flops. No going barefoot. I am toying with the idea of getting a red flat to wear in case of emergencies, but that’s another thought (and another post). I want to do this thing right.

Like so many blushing brides-to-be (do any of us actually blush?), I’ve envisioned a certain heel — maybe satin, perhaps studded with rhinestones — that remains elusive. I have an idea of this shoe, but this shoe does not seem to exist. (Or if it does, it’s way out of my budget.) As money is definitely a factor, I need to stay below $100. Because I’m a klutz and will be nervous, the heel can’t be too high. I would love a slingback, if possible, because a strap will make me feel more comfortable, and I favor satin styles rather than a leather or patent-leather look. And they must be red, natch.

After hours (hours!) of searching online and in-store, I’ve made my top three choices.

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1. Coloriffics Devine in Red, $54.45, Zappos
2. Bouquets Dakota in Red Satin, $55.99, Zappos
3. rsvp Shila in Red, $51.99, Zappos


So. Since the prices are all comparable, we can go ahead and say cost is not a factor here.

So which one?

I’ll start by saying right away that shoe No. 3 is my favorite. I love the satin look, the red bow, the not-too-high heel and the peep-toe. On my epic list of “wants,” this shoe meets everything except the strap to hold it in place more securely. So what’s my hold-up? It’s very similar to the pair I already have from David’s Bridal that do not fit at all (and they’re also a size 8). Maybe that’s totally unfair prejudice against this shoe but, you know, there it is. That fear is what’s holding me back from committing.

Shoe No. 2 lights up my life for the same reasons as No. 3 but without the bow, which isn’t necessarily a problem. I like the ruching detail, and it looks like a sturdy heel that I can walk in without busting my face on tile. Don’t underestimate my ability to bust my face, friends; I somehow managed to bruise a toe against the coffee table simply by standing up Sunday. Like, I don’t even know what happened. One minute I’m walking toward the kitchen; the next I’m seething by a chair, moaning and fighting back stunned tears over a random toe injury.

These things happen.

And this brings us to Shoe No. 1. I might have gone ahead and taken the plunge with these babies except for the buckle detail. It has the strap, a sturdy base and a bow, but the heel is actually 5 inches (whoa!) and I’m not sure about a buckle with my lace-and-applique wedding dress. Will it look weird? Out of place?

Am I just totally going crazy at this point?

Because Zappos offers free shipping both ways, I’m seriously thinking about ordering my two favorite pairs, trying them out and returning the loser. I hate returning things (don’t ask why — it’s not like it’s a huge deal to go to the post office, where I practically live), so I’m coaching myself with the mantra that I will return at least one pair no matter what and not waste my money, as is usually the case.

No number of blog posts will bring me any closer to a decision until I actually get these on my feet, right?

So which two should it be? Now accepting votes. And assurances. And if you have any recommendations for other sites where I could drive myself totally nuts looking at satin uppers and widths and peep-toes, please share. Any thoughts on comfy heels or brands? Sites you love? Medicinal cures for shoe-sanity?

Send help. And diet soda.


EDITED TO ADD on 7/18: Thank you all so much for your feedback! Based on your responses, I went ahead and ordered No. 2 and No. 3 — just waiting for my shiny package to arrive. I’ll post a follow-up after I get these on my feet, and will definitely share the winner.


Humbled by nature


It seems strange that I should feel optimistic in fall, when all around things are changing and falling and landing softly on the ground.

But I do.

We went on a little field trip to a local park over the weekend — and I’ll be showing you the photographic mementos of that trip tomorrow! But for today? I was standing beneath these too-tall trees, craning my neck as far back as it would go. And it was not enough.

Just like the redwoods, it’s impossible to take in the enormity of nature until you’re standing beneath it. Quiet. Humbled. That’s been the theme of my 2012: Humbled By Nature. (Catchy — sounds like a band or something.) I’ve been waxing poetic about the great outdoors since we went to California in May, and I haven’t stopped thinking about Yosemite.

I’m finally learning, at 27, that my happiness directly correlates to the amount of sunshine on my skin. Fresh air in my lungs. New sights, smells and scenery to enjoy. Whether my camera is glued to my palm. And to my surprise, I like being outside. Even when I’m wearing inappropriate footwear.

Though I’m really getting better about that. I’m in sneakers most of the time — a fact that would horrify my once-fashionable and often barefoot self. But it’s not easy to scale hills, walk beaches and sunflower fields, skid on ice or scramble over rocky shoreline in flats or sandals.



Guess I really am growing up.


It’s a flat, flat world

So I’m a petite (read: short), curvy young woman who has spent her life in heels, boots and other contraptions designed to make me appear longer, leaner and less height-impaired than I actually am. In my 24 years pacing around this planet, I’ve spent a solid decade standing at a whopping 5’2″ tall. Barefoot. (My driver’s license may put me at 5’4″, but that was wishful thinking.)

Of course, you’d typically never know that about me. In the winter, my dogs are stuffed into black boots that give me an extra three inches or so of height, and in the summer? Wedges, friends — it’s all about the wedges. I teeter, I totter, and I generally meander around in shoes designed to make me look less like a pint-sized playground companion and more like a powerful, assertive woman. And as someone who once dated a man who stands at a meager 6’7″, I realized long ago that I can use any and all help in the height department.

So why I now wearing flats everywhere I go?

Out shopping with my best friend Nichole recently, we wound up at our friendly neighborhood DSW. And because I’m a fancy girl who likes fancy things but doesn’t want to pay top-dollar for them, y’all know I had a coupon. At Nichole’s urging, I picked up a pair of black Blowfish flats at a ridiculously good price. I was skeptical, yes, because your girl Meg doesn’t like feeling like a tiny blade of grass in a giant-sized world. But they weren’t expensive, they’re super cute and I thought — why not?

And you know what? They’re amazing. Comfortable, age-appropriate, fashionable . . .

I wear them with jeans. I wear them with skirts. I wear them with dresses in the office, then out on dates on the weekends. Basically? I’m living in these shoes, which are a huge improvement from my usual footwear of scuffed-up flip-flops, worn-out sneakers or too-high heels inappropriate for, say, a jaunt to Target.

I’m officially converted. And if that makes me look less Tall, Lanky Supermodel and more Tiny, Funny Fellow Land Dweller, I guess I’m just fine with that.

Am I the last one to realize it’s amazing not to have your feet constantly hurting? Has the Flats Revolution been happening right under my nose for years as I stumbled by in boots, completely oblivious?

Why didn’t you guys tell me?

Never again, friends. Never . . . again.