So yesterday the girls and I were on our way into the city. We had just turned onto the county road heading toward town when a truck passed us. It was packed to the rafters with firewood, and had a skinned elk on top.
Well, this is north Idaho. What else did you expect?
The driver was a young man, perhaps mid-30's, wearing a plaid flannel shirt, suspenders, and sporting a neatly trimmed beard. He looked friendly and confident, just an ordinary guy providing for his family by bringing home both the firewood and the meat for winter.
Now fast forward to this morning. I'm reading the news online. I saw an article entitled High Heels for Men are On the Rise. Huh? Curious, I clicked on the article and promptly spewed my tea across the keyboard. (Warning: Do NOT continue reading until you've swallowed what's in your mouth.)
According to the article: "[T]he resulting looks are far from the Priscilla Queen of the Desert-esque drag styles that are so often associated with men in heels. Luke Nero, a promoter at Mr Black club in LA, told the New York Times: 'I went to a loft party yesterday, and there was a guy in normal shorts, normal tank and really hot red pumps. That’s it! Everyone was like, "Oh my God, I love those shoes!"'
Oooh, a man in "really hot red pumps." My kind of guy! I expect tomorrow he'll don those fabulous shoes and go hunt for elk and chainsaw some logs for firewood!
Also from the article, no kidding, is this quote: "Sean Wagner, 23, from LA told the paper: 'I never leave the house with less than eight inches on my feet... It helps you see over the cattle.'"
You're telling a country woman who owns cattle...that these heels help you see over the cattle. Sign me up. No, sign my husband up.
A fan of these shoe styles for men assures us, "It’s a power thing. You’re higher than everybody else. You make more sound. You walk a different way. It makes your legs look better."
I've poked fun at fashion before (notably here, here, here, here, here, here, and here). But what can I say? Stuff like this leaves me speechless.
Okay, I lied. It didn't leave me speechless. But I'll simply conclude by saying, I prefer men who look, act, and dress like MEN.
Give me a guy who can tromp through the woods and provide for his family over someone mincing around at a party in eight-inch heels any day.
Gack. Now excuse me, I have to clean my keyboard.