tory burch denim t-bar wooden wedge sandals

every girl has got to have one!

what fun and fearless pair of shoes do you have? i would not (in my rare sane state of mind) usually grab just anything from my shoe corner especially if i have my two-year-old in tow. if a pair requires certain skills, such as not tripping while wearing high heels, or in this case, not tottering while wearing a gorgeous tory burch denim t-bar wooden wedge sandals, then i leave it for my "me" time (which again, rarely happens). this pair is like the friend that you want to keep for life. they go with a great pair of jeans, skirts, even leggings and casual trousers, but only if you could pull off the look.

the tory burch denim wedge sandals do not only look sexy, they have in them the power to make you feel sexy. even if you have to wait in a long queue at the grocery, trust me, you'd still feel the most fabulous human being that ever walked the planet. the gold eyelets and designer-stamped loops complete the gorgeous look of this 70's-inspired footwear.

a must have? definitely. 

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tory burch denim wedge sandals, footwear, womens shoes, girl shoes, wedges

what is your story?

let me travel with you...through your stories

i have weaved a hundred stories in my head. stories about me, my life, and stories that i wish were mine. i own a lot of stories but i get lost in my own plots. my mind is just as restless as the pen that i can’t stop from tapping rhythmically on my desk while i’m thinking. or daydreaming. i really can’t tell between the two sometimes. oh, the pen? no i don’t really write with it. i use it to remind me where i am at and what i intend to do, which i never get around to doing most of the time these days. i try to find the perfect words to write knowing that that is what people want to read. or breeze through. or whatever. criticism is a business that earns—monetarily and otherwise. in this day and age, bashing has become an official proof of income. the more insults you hurl, the more you earn. there are no proper mechanics to this but anyone who is living through this fantastic age of the internet knows what i’m talking about.

pour, stir. i sit listening to the hushing of the sea, very slowly sipping my coffee. then i realize that the thoughts that follow me sometimes are not my own. oh how silly of me not to recognize the humming in my own head. i am yearning , almost praying, to sit down with someone to listen to. i want to listen to other people’s stories—your story—whoever may be reading this right now. when you’re at it please do not be too kind to organize your thoughts. don’t sequence your life to make it sound unerring (supposing you think it is uninteresting) because i just want to listen to every little thing. i want to know who you are, where you’ve been, the different kinds of people that you have met, what kind of fellows  you loved sharing your coffee with, the food that made you sick, the book that made you cry, the train ride that made you want to jump out of, the thoughts that hum like a thousand bees in your head. i just want to listen.

and oh, i may interrupt once in a while, but don’t let me bother you. go on like you don’t hear me at all.

so...what is your story?