I'm not going to buy them, but looking at them makes me happy. Maybe more than owning them, in this particular case, given the inches on these things.
On some old self-indulgent schizz.
Purple satin MJ too-high heels... Boudoirs, corsets, courtesans, sex and
class. Martinis and white wine, the outer beauty, pain for pleasure.
Mary Jane, the consummate little girl, shoes engineered to give a shine
and smoothness to the angular ash of the human foot -- fit for work and
play. What kind of work, these, is another question. What kind of play.
Sultry shady sensual sleek. Bustles and proffered arms. Tipped hats and
fascinator bonnets and pin curls.
In other news, I've successfully made it through the first week of the micro-challenge. Hooray!
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