Shoes That You Could Wear Instead of Uggs

It’s winter. Your poor little feet are cold, and you want some adorable boots that go with everything. There’s snow on the ground, and you need to buy some shoes, stat. So what do you do? You snatch your mom’s credit card, bop on down to the Ugg Emporium, and spend $150 on these things.

Now, there are worse shoes. Crocs, for example. Or those boots made out of denim that JLo used to wear back when she was Jenny. Uggs are actually kind of adorable, like little fluffy puppies you shove your feet into, only without the animal abuse. (Unless you count all the dead sheep used to make le Uggs.)

This might be abuse-ish if no one takes down their laundry, but awwww!

But. $150? $150?!!?!? I have a friend who owns about ten pairs of the things, and you aren’t supposed to get them wet, apparently, because it ruins the outside (unless you buy their $20 Care Kit!). She said hers came also with a slip that told her not to wear them with socks, because it’ll wear out the fluffiness of the inside. So, in summary, Uggs are $150-$350 winter boots that you can’t get wet or wear with socks?

WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY. Why. I don’t understand. They are casual and comfortable and you just plop your tootsies in there and go, and the colors are nice, and from what I understand they’re fairly well made. These things all make sense. But there are so many better options! If I’m going to spend $150 on shoes, I’m going to spend them on shoes that don’t look like a 5-year-old girl’s galoshes.

Here are some great alternatives to making your feet look like fat sheepskin pillows buying Uggs: these Steven Madden boots ($150), these gorgeous heeled ones from Mod Cloth (only $50!), these classy J. Crew boots ($350), these two-toned platforms from Clark’s ($210), or these Guess boots ($105).

Pick any of them! Just, for the love of God, if you’re going to spend some people’s weekly paycheck on shoes, at least make them beautiful boots that will make you look sophisticated and sexy, instead of I’m-a-fashionless-drone-whose-Uggs-perfectly-match-my-ripped-Abercrombie-jeans-and-hoodie!

See, Sophia Loren can rock a pair of boots.

 

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Fall in Line, Summer Sluts

I am excited for Fall Sexy.

What is Fall Sexy, you ask? (I heard you. You can’t deny it. You’re sitting there with your hands on the keyboard, talking out loud. That’s kind of weird. But doesn’t it feel like we’re having a conversation right now, except it’s like a conversation with a psychic on account of the fact that I heard you say, “What is Fall Sexy?” and I’m probably three hundred miles away? Oh, wait, you didn’t ask about Fall Sexy? Well, you sure have stuck in here reading this whole thing, then. Kudos.)

Sorry, I got a little carried away trying to convince certain People of the Internet that I’m a psychic. Anyway, Fall Sexy. Fall is just this great wonderful fabulous season, for a million reasons–it’s the perfect temperature, the air feels crisp, it’s beautiful, and everything just seems fucking great in the fall. But one of the best things is that it’s the perfect time to dress like a minxy vixen.

See, look at it this way: Winter is too cold to wear anything a little slutty outdoors. No strappy heels (and no heels at all, if you live in Snowhell like me), no dresses, and everything else covered up under a giant coat. And Summer is great to wear short-shorts and flirty little sundresses, but it’s way too hot to swan around in garters or long sleeves, both of which can be sodamnsexy. And fuck Spring, that shit is muddy.

Which leaves us with glorious glorious Fall. You can wear skirts, or you can wear pants. You can wear a whorish dress and then make it [a little] classier with a cardigan. And, my favorite part of all, you can wear hosiery. I go buck-fucking-wild with my stockings and thigh-highs and tights in the fall, because a.) you can wear the shortest skirts ever and no one can say a word, and b.) these things are sex on legs (literally).

Plus, in case you couldn’t tell from the way I kind of word-fucked it earlier, Fall is my favorite season. And everyone looks good when they’re happy. (Awww, look how I ended on that sweet sentimental note! Now go buy some whore outfits, you delicious slatterns. [Also, my goodness, there are a lot of synonyms for “slut.” But stop reading and go shopping, you trollop!])

I’m White on Rice

It’s officially summertime for me. Which means a lot of great things, like eating watermelon and riding my bike and playing tennis and finally getting to swim in water instead of chlorine. But one the best things about summer is that I will no longer look like Casper the Friendly Tool Ghost.

I mean, I really need to spell this out for you, Internet. You’re probably thinking, “Yeah, every white person is pale in the winter, shut up.” In which case you’re kind of harshing my mellow, but it’s fine, I’ll forgive you. Anyway. That might be true, but I am paler than all of them. I practically glow in the dark. I am so white that a polar bear in a snowstorm looks Brasilian in comparison.

So, I like to be tan. And now that there is sunshine in the world again, people will stop trying to put carrots on my nose because they think I’m a snowman. What a relief!

Winter Wilds

Do you ever just feel like doing something absolutely outrageous, like dancing on a table or streaking or rescuing a giraffe from the zoo and making him be your pet? I get this feeling that I call the “summer wilds,” on account of the fact that it typically takes place in the summer, but I guess my brain is seasonally confused because I have it right now.

Seriously, on January 2nd, I am done with snow and being freezing cold everywhere I go and wearing thirty-seven layers. And not the cute kind of layers, but long-johns (okay, I don’t actually wear those, although if I did it might solve Thing I Hate About Winter #2) and fifty scarves. The snow is all charming and adorable during the holidays, but afterward, when it’s all pollution-dirty and icy? Not so much.

Right now, I just want summer. And I know, those people who bitch all summer about how hot it is and then change their tune are dumb. But seriously, it was -11 yesterday, so fuck it, I want sunshine and sand.

Either way, though, I kinda have that let’s-go-crazy mentality usually reserved for when I’m not pale and suffering from frostbite. Except that I know I’ll be all, “Yeah, let’s rage, come on, let’s go!” and bop outside with some contraband FourLoko and then be all, “Shit, no,” and stumble back into a warm bed.

Long story short, I am just going to shut up, calm down, and appreciate the good things about the world being an icy hell. Like warm cozy blankets, and hot coco with whipped cream, and watching people slip and fall in the snow.

Snow Now

I love winter. I love it. I love the snow, and I love the holidays (except Thanksgiving, but luckily, we’ve already jumped that hurdle), and I love my winter hat (it has four deelyboppers, otherwise known as pom-poms on strings, and it makes me look approximately four years old, and it is wonderful).

Sadly, my current city really just hasn’t checked a calendar lately. Yesterday’s weather was stormy with a chance of Noah’s Ark, followed by flooding. (In case you couldn’t tell, it was really rainy.) Today is bright and sunny and thirty-nine degrees, but it feels warmer. But you know what hasn’t happened in the middle of all this schizophrenic weather? SNOW.

I mean, it’s December! Is it so much to ask for that some pretty, Thomas Kincade-like snow-showers happen? (Obviously it is, because they’re not happening. But anyway.) I just don’t know how to handle winter without snow. I like to sled (okay, I love it, to the point where I have scars on both sides from sledding adventures, but that’s another story) and cross-country ski and make awkward hipster snowmen.

Instead, I have to freeze my ass off while looking at dead grass and trees with no leaves. Just personally, I’d rather freeze my ass off while looking at a pretty snowy landscape. Because, for some reason, my brain can’t comprehend that cold can exist without snow (I blame my hometown–address: Antarctica, Ice Town [a hamlet of Freezingville in the county of Snowbuckets], on Sleet Street. Ahh, see what I did there?). So I look out my window, on a day like this one, and I think to myself, “Oh, sunshine! It can’t possibly be chilly!” And then you know what I do? Wear flip-flops.

I mean, it’s not Mother Nature’s fault I’m an idiot, but you have to blame somebody, right? So, if you’re reading this, MN, send a little snow my way, huh? And then maybe (maybe) I’ll pretend I care about Arbor Day.