I’m developing a very questionable addiction and I need your opinion.

It’s nothing new, you’ve heard it from me before.  You see, I’m developing an addiction to bizarro shoes.

It all started in October with my Taylors and I’m delightfully sorry to tell you that I wear them all the time. Next came my super cheap pair of Pierre Hardys bought a few months back— Some stiletto sneakers. I’ll tell you, nothing could deliver quite such a hard blow to my French chic than putting  ‘sneakers’ and ‘stiletto’ together in the same sentence.  Ow!

But I couldn’t resist. I got myself into them like Nicole Kidman got herself into Botox and yeah, I’m thrilled.

Then, because of a highly recommendable blog, the owner of which has committed himself to a brand that I would never look at, really, never,  I came across DKNY high-heeled sneakers.

Now fast-forward to December. I wanted to forget them. I told myself that I’d never find them in France. I told myself acquired bad taste can be, er, cool, if you do it for fun once in a while. But when you do it all the time…it’s simply bad taste.

So at this point, I open Glamour’s December issue and inside, what do I find?

The messieurs over at Proenza Schouler speaking directly to me and citing as one of their “faults in taste that ruin everything” : crossbreed footwear e.g. Converse heels.

Double ouuuch. Touché. I take a deep breath and forget all about about my hybrid shoes.

Except that as I’m speaking to you now (no, I don’t write ALL my posts at 7 am), I’m sprawled like a blissful Turkish delight on my couch, with Glamour’s latest issue in hand.

And what’s on page 114 at 165€?   Merde.  My DKNYs!  Practically a freebie by magazine standards, compared with the Louis Vuitton’s on the next page (oooooh, so gorgeous) priced at over 1900€ (oooh, okay, not so cool… But that’s a whole other thing, right?)

Well, well…I can only restrain myself for so long, okay?

It isn’t like I’m, I don’t know, some mystic yogi. I can’t take this sitting down (okay, sprawling down) like some cat on a hot tin roof and act like nothing ever happened for the love of chic. And those shoes, they’re on fire!  I mean, c’mon!  Stop putting them in front of my face!

So please, tell me that they’re ridiculously stupid, totally wacky, horribly ugly shoes. Now that you know my sister, tell me what she’d say to me.  Just say it : Garance, you are irreversibly damaged.  Okay?

Translation : Magali Eva Suárez et Tim Padraic Sullivan.