Shoe Stories #6: "Ruby Slippers Come in Hot Pink Too"

Welcome to the 6th episode of "Shoe Stories."

If you're just catching up with me now and thinking "um...Shoe Stories?  Like...stories about shoes?"  Let me explain.  I love shoes.  Like, REALLY love shoes.  Flats, boots, ballerinas, loafers, strappy sandles, sneakers, "f*ck me" pumps.  I love 'em all.

And I know I'm not alone in my obsession - mostly because of the evidence I've found behind the closet doors of many of my friends.  Even if you don't care much about shoes, you have to respect them.  There's a reason they say "you need to walk a mile in another man's shoes" in order to truly understand them.  They are the foundation upon which we stand as we move through life.  Shoes support us, present us to the world, and help propel us forward.  And even after you take them off, your "sole" leaves an imprint behind.

I believe there's something about a pair of shoes that changes your whole mood.  Your whole outlook.  Let's face it, Cinderella's story would never have worked if she had a glass hat, or a glass handbag.   She needed a pair of beautiful shoes in order for her transformation to be complete.

Well, last week, in honor of my new job at E!'s Fashion Police (btw...my latest piece is "Bitch Stole My Look! Marisa Tomei vs. Miranda Kerr), I reminisced about a pair of fabulous Gucci cap toe stacked heels I bought when I was first promoted to full agent at William Morris in NYC.


This week I give you, "Ruby Slippers Come in Hot Pink Too":

 

"Ruby Slippers Come in Hot Pink Too"

Admit it...you want to try these on.   You're compelled to try them on.  They're so open, so inviting...it would almost be a sin NOT to slip them on...just for a moment...to experience their shiny pink fabulousness and imagine what kind of an evening you would be having if you were wearing them.  

How do I know this?  Because I felt the exact same way about them...when I was 13.

When my my older, more sophisticated, well-dressed sister was 16 she went to summer school at Exeter Academy and met some other well-dressed sophisticated girls.  But in particular she made friends with one Southern girl named Pamela.  Pamela was everything I wasn't.  Tiny, demure, beautiful, blonde and Southern.   I was fascinated by her.

One weekend she came up to New Jersey (where we lived at the time) to go to some disco themed Sweet Sixteen with my sister.  (It was the late 70's)  She brought some gorgeous disco wear with her.

She had a pair of skin tight shiny pink satin pants and a matching long-sleeved lycra top with sequins on it.  But it was her brand new pair of hot pink slides (probably Candies...) I will never forget.

I couldn't take my eyes off these shoes.  Or my hands...and over the weekend when my sister and her friend left the house to check out Spencer Gifts at the mall or something, I went into her room and dug her friend's shoes out of her suitcase.  I held them in my hands and stared at them.  I thought twice about what I was doing, but couldn't help myself.  I slipped them on.  

I felt so grown up, so tasteful, so pretty.  I strutted around my sister's room in them like a drunk southern sailor and imagined they transformed my young, gawky, dark, ethnic awkwardness into "mature" southern belle beauty.  I looked in the mirror and imagined I was just like Pamela. 

Then I heard the door slam and teenage girls giggling.

I jumped out of the shoes, shoved them back in Pamela's suitcase and tried to look nonchalant - pretending to read something by Judy Blume. 

Three years ago I was at Neiman Marcus scanning the sales racks when my eyes fell on these Hot Pink Prada Patent Leather Mule Slides.  They TOTALLY reminded me of Pamela's shoes and I had to have them.  My GOD!  They were the EXACT same shoe!

I put them on the second I got home.  It was weird (and a little pathological) to buy a pair just like Pamela's after all these years. But they still spoke to me.  Telling me I would be pretty.  Sexy.  Grown-up.

But this time, when I looked in the mirror, I saw me.  Tall, dark, 40-something (cough, cough) grown-up and I looked gooooooood! 

Unfortunately, after about 20 minutes of wearing  them around the house imagining the fabulous things I would in these shoes when I wore them out, I had to take them off.  They were killing me.  Such is the life of a grown-up.

I never wore them again.  But I still love them.


This past weekend, I put these shoes out on my carpet to take a picture of them for "Shoe Stories." Livi came in and saw them.  She shreiked "OH MY GOD!  THOSE ARE SO PRETTY!" and made a bee-line for them.  She put them on her tiny feet and teetered around in them pretending to be grown-up and beautiful she admired herself in the mirror.

I hope she saw what I saw.  A beautiful little girl.

Hibernation Really Interferes with Productivity...

Today's Iranian New Year.  I know this because our school is OFF for Iranian New Year!  YAY IRANIAN NEW YEAR!

Now I have all three kids sitting home today even though I still have all of my usual work to do for Fashion Police.  Yeah, this is going to be an interesting morning.

I figure I need to keep everyone busy so I can work...you know...on my Fashion Police posts - not Mommy Lite stuff...that would be procrastinating.  And I want to do my work because I am REALLY liking it!  Last week got to call Nicky Minaj a Hot Troll Doll.  (This job really has "me" written all over it!)

I figure I'll ask all the kids to do their school work.  That'll keep 'em busy.

Livi and Ben have a big book report due - so that works well for me.  That could easily take up a couple of hours if I really milk it and force them to be neat and spell correctly.

Ben finished his report this morning while I slept in.  Okay.  It bought me an extra hour and a half.

Livi is less industrious.  She's the queen of procrastination.  She's sitting on the floor of the living room covered by a big green chenille blanket when I stumble upon her.

Me:  "Livi.  Do your work."

Livi: "I'm in hibernation."

Me:  "Get out of hibernation and do your work."

Livi: "But I like hibernation."

Me: "But you can't stay in hibernation.  Do your work."

Livi:  "Maybe next winter..."

Who am I kidding?  I'm not getting anything done today.  Nicky,...it's your lucky day.

ONLY 7 MORE VOTING DAYS!!! - TOP 25 FUNNY MOMS!

OH NO!  I'm DOWN TO #21!!!!!

Just a reminder that you can vote EVERY DAY (well every 24 hours) on Circle of Moms for MommyLITE to be one of the TOP 25 FUNNY MOM BLOGS!!!!

You guys have been SOOOOO AMAZING and I am so incredibly grateful for all of your votes so far!! But in order to win I need to still in the top 25 by the 21st!  If I am, my blog could get pimped to 6 million people!!!

Thanks so much for helping me everyone!!!!  All you have to do is CLICK HERE TO VOTE!  (No registration necessary!!!!)  Circle of Moms Top 25 Funny Moms - 2012 .

Shoe Stories: #5 "Working Girl"

Welcome once again to Shoe Diaries!  Okay, it's been a few weeks since my last "Shoe Story" but come on...give a newly back-in-the-working-world girl a break!

You may have forgotten.  Why am I doing stories about shoes??

Well, I believe there's something about a pair of shoes that changes your whole mood.  Your whole outlook.  Let's face it, Cinderella's story would never have worked if she had a glass hat, or a glass handbag.   She needed a pair of beautiful shoes in order for her transformation to be complete.

(To read the full intro to the series, just click here, and then submit your own story!...)

And in honor of my new job and being back in the office-world working force (Blogging for "Fashion Police at E! Television!!!!) I give you my latest entry in my Shoe Stories series..."Working Girl."

"Working Girl"

I bought these shoes almost 20 years ago.

I KNOW!  They're totally back in style, right??!!!  (Don't say 'no'...I can't hear you).

Back in 1992 I was working at William Morris Agency in NYC as an assistant since 1989 and this was the year I was promoted to Agent in the Literary Department.  I didn't get all of the fanfare the other agents got when they were promoted.  A huge mass  company-wide e-mail.  Pats on the back from higher-ups.  Invitations to lunch at Michael's.  Nope.

Mine was a quiet promotion - like one of those marriages that happens behind a trailer at the end of a shot gun because you're an embarrassment.  The heads of my department didn't even send out an e-mail.

I will always believe that the reason my rise at the agency wasn't publicized was because they didn't  believe in what I was doing.  I had created their Children's Book/Entertainment department and they were VERY skeptical.  They didn't believe books for kids made worthwhile money and they certainly didn't believe kids movies could do any kind of serious business.  But I did.  And I was so happy doing what I was doing.

I signed some amazing clients, lots of talented writers and illustrators whose names might not ring a bell, but also some who might; Dav Pilkey (Captain Underpants...yes...I sold that series); Cynthia Rylant ("Missing May"); Betty and Michael Paraskevas ("Maggie and the Ferocious Beast"), Paul Zindel ("Pardon Me You're Stepping on My Eyeball"); I even had the honor of working Bill Cosby on his Little Bill book series.  I TOTALLY AND THOROUGHLY BELIEVED in what I was doing SO MUCH.  But they didn't.   I was shoved in an small office near the conference room on the second floor - the LAST stop for any important agency business; the FIRST stop for the agents who suddenly liked me because they wanted me to sell their celebrity client's wives crappy children's book idea, "Little Christmas Tree that Could." They'd smile, dump the thoughtless manuscript on my desk and run out of my office before another real agent saw them talking to me.

William Morris sucked.

Anyway, I was so incredibly proud of myself for becoming an agent I went out and bought myself my first REALLY nice pair of shoes.  These shoes.  Black Gucci stacked heels with cap toe and silver buckle.  And I felt SO smart, savvy and SUCCESSFUL when I wore them.  I was like a Literary Princess.

WMA (sorry...WME now) let me go in 1997 saying that the kids entertainment business would never be lucrative.  I still have nightmares about that place. 

But I still have my shoes.  My first "I'm a real Literary Agent" shoes.

And every time I wear them I am reminded that I was the ONLY ONE one at that talent agency who believed that entertainment for children could have an impact - and I was right!

Ironically, my first children's book "On My Way to the Bath" - illustrated by one of my long-time clients and friends, Michael Paraskevas - will be published by Walker Books on May 22nd.

Needless to say...I am TOTALLY wearing these shoes to my first book signing.






These Gucci pumps

Yay, Spring!

Circle of Moms Voted MommyLITE a TOP 25 FUNNY BLOG!!!!

OMG! OMG! OMG!!!!

I was JUST nominated by Circle of Moms as one of the top 25 Funny Moms!!!!!! I don't know what they're smokin' there but I am SO honored and excited!

Now all I need to make it to the Top 10 is to get votes! LOTS of Votes! Whether you've enjoyed my writing, or just feel sorry for my kids I would be SO grateful if you would JUST CLICK on the button below and vote for MommyLITE! It's super easy!

THANK YOU DRUNK PEOPLE AT CIRCLE OF MOMS!!!! The NEXT round is on me!!!

Circle of Moms Top 25 Funny Moms - 2012 .

Is Your Uvula Showing?

Uvula! Uvula! UUUUUVVEEEEUUUUULAAAHHHHH!!!

Livi's running around the house shouting "Uvula!  Uvula!" and I have no idea why.

I had to look it up because I wasn't entirely sure what it was.  Or if she should get in trouble for saying it.

Turns out our uvula is that little dangling punching bag that hangs down in the back of your throat.  Okay, not punishment worthy at all.

She ran down the hall, "Izzy, is your uuuuvula showing?

Izzy gave her a board stare.  "Stop it, Livi."

She trotted back to her room  "Ben! Put away you're Uvula!'

His response?  "Hee-Hee!!...What's a uvula?"  I swear, he's her best audience.

She turned to her fish, Jeffrey.  "Your new name is, Uvuuuula."

I had to ask her, "Why do you keep saying that?"

"It's fun to say."

"Where did you hear that word?" (She's only in 2nd grade. Wouldn't you want to know?)

"My friends at school."

I imagined a bunch of girls giggling about the word, thinking they were being very inappropriate, having no idea what they were talking about.

"Do you know what a Uvula is?"  I asked, ready to prove my point.

"Yes!  It's something in your throat."  Touche.

Ben felt around the outside of his neck.  "Oh yeah!  I can feel it!"

"Ben...you can't feel your uvula.  Not on your neck at least."  I added.

"Yeah." Said the all-knowing Izzy.  "And if you touch it, you throw up."

So, this was my evening.  I realize it isn't dinner table conversation.  But I couldn't help but take a little pride in the intellectual level of our conversation.   Yes.  My kids know what a Uvula is.  And that you throw up if you touch it.

Are my expectations too low?


This story was originally published here on MommyLITEonline.com on 6/11/11.   Hope you don't mind the rerun!