When Boston turns into a jilted ex out for revenge come late November the worst reaction is to allow the blasphemous weather to permanently glue Uggs to your feet. The ladies who are stylish, or vain enough to brave the elements may look better than their duck boot donning counterparts when out at night, but it is a catch 22. The Boston fashionista will strap on stilettos in a blizzard, but the effect is short lived, as the first step onto the icy embankments ruins the intended grace.
I have ruined three pairs of heels this winter alone from tossing them in a soggy pile after trotting through salty masses of snow and ice skating to cabs. My girlfriends and I have taken to cropping every photograph from the ankles down as the shoes that were once prized possessions have become graying messes. This particularly awful winter has further postponed any idea of saving up for louboutins…watching the red soles wear away would be a tragedy.
We stumble, slip, hang onto our friends for support and ultimately appear far more inebriated had we gone a more practical route, but damn our legs look good.