The Boy is addicted to shoe-shopping, it’s scary. In a few years, he will likely be buying shoes he won’t ever wear, much like a teacher he used to have. In a few years, our shoe racks will likely rival our bookshelves.

The only way to deal with the situation is to buy shoes myself.

Okay, I don’t know how that helps. All I know is that it eases the jealousy I feel when I see The Boy parading around the apartment in his new shoes. So yeah, in a ¬†way, it helps.

Unlike him, however, I don’t buy ridiculously expensive pairs. After all, I am bored and thrifty; cheap yet chic is my game.

My latest acquisition is this pair of brown ankle boots. I am wearing them here with a dress (thrifted, too) that I will be wearing at a wedding next weekend. I could wear the boots, too, but 3-inch heels + 4-hour event in which I will be taking photos = poor feet.

boots 1

If I wear the boots, I will look like this after a few hours:

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