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October Haircut and Shopping


It was time for another hair cut.  I decided to get a haircut and go to the “fashion store” (Nordstrom) that I had visited recently.  I wore a patterned dress, with a black cardigan, black flats, and nude pantyhose.

About the dress: I bought this dress at a consignment store several outings ago.  I did not like it at first, but I still tried it on (I think it was recommended).  I thought it looked bad.  Then, I drew up the fabric behind me and realized it had a lot of potential.  I bought it for the experience of altering it.  It sat untouched for months.  Finally, I had some time and I took it in about 2-3 inches (5-8 cm) on each side.  Now, it fits me rather well.  I am pleased!

Barber Shop
I went to my barbershop.  Only one employee was working.  I was the only customer.  This employee was the same one who cut my hair last time.  Nothing interesting happened.  This person was still rather unsocial.  I could not tell if she was uncomfortable or shy.  A man was in the waiting room as I left.  He glanced up to see me, then glanced at my outfit and then glanced away.

Fashion Store – Clothes
I walked into Nordstrom.  (I brought my new wedge heels, but I forgot to put them on.)  When I entered the store, I did not know where to start.  An employee approached me soon after I started browsing.  She showed me around the store and showed me options.  I was not a very helpful customer.  I did not have anything in particular in mind.  After a couple minutes of her helping, I thanked her and dismissed her.

Later, while I was browsing a rack, another employee approached me offering to help.  She was very fashionably dressed.  I told her roughly what I told the other employee: I love women’s clothes, but I do not have their fashion sense.  I want to maintain my masculinity and wear pretty things.  I do not want to wear flowers, ruffles, bows, etc.  She showed me around just like the other employee did.  Then I thanked her and dismissed her.  I browsed some more.

Fashion Store – Shoes
I walked over to the shoe section.  On my way, I saw a woman in a skirt, blouse, and a blazer.  She seemed rather tall.  I asked her where she got her blazer.  She pulled up the collar to show me the tag.  It said Banana Republic.  She recommended that I shop there on-line because they have a tall section.  She very politely spoke with me for a couple minutes about fashion and being tall.

I proceeded on to shoes.  There was a wall of beautiful shoes in size 12 and 13.  I took off my shoes and started trying some on.  At one point, a woman walked up and started shopping right beside me, looking at size 12 shoes.  Eventually, she went into an aisle and continued shopping a couple feet away from me in the size 9 shoes.  I sat down to try on some wedge high heels.  The woman in the skirt and blazer happened by.  She said, “Oh, you are trying on shoes now?”  We exchanged appropriate pleasantries as she passed by.

I stood up and walked a few steps in the wedge heels a little.  I asked the nearby shopper if the shoes made me too tall.  She enthusiastically said, “No.”  She started chatting with me about shoes and heels.  A new woman who was six feet tall walked up.  She joined our conversation.  They were expressing their opinions and experiences.  I commented that I felt slightly uncomfortable about my dress because it falls to the tops of my knee caps.  I would rather have it be an inch or two (2-5 cm) longer.  They both told me that it was the perfect length.  The tall lady said that anything longer would look like an old-lady dress.

Eventually, we all went back to our separate shopping.  I found a pair of boots that were slightly too small, but they were not too wide at the calf.  I was encouraged to think that I might one day find boots in my size that fit my calves!  I eventually got in line to make my purchase.  There was a woman and her husband in line ahead of me.  I considered avoided checking out until he was gone.  I did not listen to my fears.  Checking out was uneventful.  Then I left.

$1 Store
Later, I went to a $1 store.  I had selected one item, but could not find the other thing I was shopping for.  I went up to the counter to ask for help.  A 20-year-old employee walked up to the register.  She looked at my face, then down at my waist while noticing that my shirt went all the way down past the counter’s edge.  She returned her glance to my face.  I told her what I was looking for and could not find.  She came around the counter to help me.  With the counter out of her way, she looked down at the rest of my outfit.  She said, “I love your outfit.  You look great today!”  Of course, I thanked her.  She helped me find what I needed.  We returned to the cash register and I paid.  We wished each other a good evening as we finished.

During these last few moments, a mom with two young children stood behind me while waiting on the cash register to be available.  There was nothing hiding me from this mom.  I assume she saw me.  In any case, she got right in line behind me with her two kids and did not try to avoid letting them see me.  Interestingly, the kids never paid me any attention.


Fashion Store


On a recent trip I went on, I traveled on an airplane.  I was seated near the back near two flight attendants.  I bashfully admitted to them that I was a crossdresser.  (I was not dressed pretty at this point in my journey.)  I asked them what brands of pantyhose did they recommend.  One said hers were from Nordstrom.  I believe she said they were the store brand.  They were very pretty.  I decided to drop by a Nordstrom and try some of their pantyhose.

I went to a nearby Nordstrom.  I wore ladies black shorts, my red men’s polo top, nude pantyhose, short white socks and my men’s running shoes.  Beautifully dressed women were everywhere!  Fashionable women shop here.  The clothes on the racks were beautiful.

If you have ever seen the episode of Seinfeld where George Costanza goes to a nightclub full of beautiful women and models, it felt kind of like that.  I had found some secret, mystical world!

I walked through the store.  I found the shoe section.  There was a whole wall of size 12 and size 13 shoes!

I left the shoe section without trying any shoes on.  I saw where the hosiery section was.  As I walked toward it, I continued marveling at the nice outfits women were wearing.  I actually said, “This place is like paradise!”

I only saw one brand of pantyhose in the hosiery section.  The size chart suggested I needed plus size.  Since the next size down was close my size, I decided to ask.  I found a clerk who was roughly sixty years old.  I asked her for help in hosiery.

When we arrived, I said, “Sometimes I wear pantyhose.”  She said, “Alright.”  Her expression changed slightly resembling uncertainty.  I went on explaining that a flight attendant said she was wearing Nordstrom pantyhose.  The store clerk told me that some Nordstrom stores carry fancier brands than this store did.  She showed me the choices.  She told me her experiences with the sizing and the stretchiness.  She took me to another counter where there were only a few pairs of pantyhose in other brands.

I made my selections and thanked her for being understanding.  She told me about a trans customer who presents female who shops there.  She no longer seemed uncertain.

I stood in line with the beautifully dressed customers.  Eventually, it was my turn.  The cashier glanced all the way down me.  I wonder if she noticed my hosed legs after seeing the hose packages in my hands.  If she did, she never gave me any indication of it.

I hope to come back here dressed pretty and ready to shop!  I might need to bring a lot of money.  This place seems expensive!

I went to a restaurant that I have frequented for years in menswear (sometimes twice a week).  I have recently visited this restaurant in a skirt on a couple of occasions.  I ordered food to go.  There is one male employee here who has given my feet long stares when I have crossdressed at this restaurant.  He before looked down to see what I was wearing.  The waitress who took my order also took a couple glances.  They all still treat me like normal, but now they look to see, “What is he wearing now?”

Since this trip occurred, I re-visited this restaurant in all menswear.  I noticed a few glances down to see what I was wearing.  When I left, several people were gathered near the hostess area, similar to a previous visit.  I turned and waved to them all, just like I did the time when all of us were standing in the same places but I was in a skirt.  Just like the other time, they smiled and waved back.  I have never had a destination that I have frequented in both modes of dress.  This is SO intriguing!

Since I have gone to this restaurant a few times in pretty clothes, I think that they treat me the same way as before.  However, I believe that they pay closer attention to me than they used to.  I think I have stopped being one of the many customers, and have become more identifiable.

Flying Pretty Outing – Part 4


This is part 4 of a series of posts about a trip I went on.


College Campus
I decided that I should change back into my skirt.  I walked around the college campus.  I visited the department where I would have been a student.  I passed only a few people.  I asked a couple students for directions at one point.  They helped me without hesitation.

I drove the long distance back to the airport.  Near the airport, I stopped at a gas station.  I was unsure how to get to the airport rental lot.  I asked a man at another pump.  He told me what he could.

Rental Car Return
I found the rental car return location successfully.  I drove in and stopped.  I collected my belongings.  Two people were quickly processing my car.  I was tired.  I did not care how I was dressed anymore.  I got out and placed some charging cables, etc. into my suitcase.  I headed inside.  My skirt and I pressed on toward the airport desks.

I checked in at a kiosk.  I spoke to the lady at the desk.  The “danger and risk” of going out in public had almost entirely stopped impressing me.  It was kind of cool!  I went through security with no incident whatsoever.

I found the gate for my flight.  Then, I looked for somewhere to eat supper.  I found a place that took about ten minutes to make my meal.  I stood in front of this place and watched some history documentary.  I would look toward the passing people from recently arrived airplanes.  I saw something that I have not experienced in a while.  Some people were looking at me as though I was shocking or unusual.  Some took long looks as they went by,  Others have a slight look of shock.  I wonder where THAT airplane was from!  I just kept on waiting for food and watching the program.

When my food arrived, I went to my gate to eat it and wait for my flight.  At this gate, no one talked to me.  A woman to my right left after thirty minutes.  Shortly, later, a muscular man came and sat in her seat.

Time out.  Here is an observation I made while sitting there:

  1. Many years ago, when I would go on an outing, I would avoid tourist attractions because I did not want to be where people had cameras.  I did not want them snapping pictures of me and sharing them on the Internet and exposing me.  I do not worry about that any more because a crossdresser has lost its exotic mystery.
  2. A few years went by and I started to avoid teenagers because they carry phones with camera and might snap my picture.  That does not worry me any more.  Teens seem to do that less.  Also, I am not that interesting because crossdressers are not so unheard of.
  3. On this trip, I found something new to be afraid of.  I learned to be wary of adults with cameras taking “selfies” (pictures of themselves with friends).  These days, it happens a lot.  And it happens in unexpected locations.  It is a risk!

There were people up ahead who were snapping frequent group selfies.  I was in the background.  I would try to orient myself in a way so that my face was out of view.  There were other occasions on this trip where I realized that I had unwittingly photo bombed a selfie.

Eventually, I boarded my flight.  I sat between between two men.  One man binge watched a television show the entire flight.  The other man was on his phone.  I pulled up a class I was taking on my phone.  Eventually, the second man started watching a television show as well.  I started watching gun fights on my right and monsters on my left.  I often had to rewind my video so that I could see what my much less exciting educational video had to say.

I asked the man on my left about his show.  He talked to me about it and then returned to watching.  Later, he and I had a long conversation.  It was really good.  I learned a few things from him.  I left that flight a better man, I think.

I had a long layover after that flight.  I did not want to change back into menswear yet.  I did not go to my gate just in case someone from home who knew me would be waiting there.  I walked around the concourse.  I bought some doughnuts and found somewhere in another gate to sit and eat them.  No one there spoke to me.  One woman smiled at me.  I left there and visited the restroom.  From there, I found an ice cream machine.  I ate ice cream while walking the concourse.

I visited a store in the airport and bought some gum.  I asked the clerk if she would take my picture.  Then, I changed clothes, went to my gate, and eventually went home.


The last picture from my flying pretty trip.  The clerk in this store was very kind to take my picture.  She acted like it was an everyday experience.


The bad part
The worst part of this trip was I had a run in my pantyhose for the last two hours of my trip on the second day.

The best part
I do not know.  I know I was happy to do it in a dress/skirt.  I felt good.  I felt pretty, or maybe well dressed.  I felt normal.  There was no magic.  It was just nice.  I am OK with that!

To everyone who saw me and did not care, Thank You!

Flying Pretty Outing – Part 3


This is part 3 of a series of posts about a trip I went on.


In the morning, I put on a black skirt, a red top, my black flats, and off black Leggs Sheer Energy Active Support pantyhose.  These were not as tight or as pretty as the Hanes Smooth Illusions pantyhose.  (But they were still tight and pretty.)  I felt good about my outfit.

I went downstairs to go to breakfast.  I passed that man in the hall again.  In the lobby, I found the “continental breakfast” was not very inspiring.  I wanted something more significant than cold cereal, fruit, and waffles.  There were two men eating breakfast.  I basically ignored them and filled a cup of orange juice.  I returned to my room.  On my way, I passed that man again as he came down for breakfast.

I collected my belongings and checked out, without incident.  I might have passed that man one more time.  I am not sure.

I went to a nice restaurant for breakfast.  I was rather early.  There were very few customers.  No one paid me any attention.  My server was nice.  After she brought my meal, I asked the server if she would take my picture.  The food was delicious.  I ate eggs, bacon, toast, and juice.  I quietly ate my meal.  I paid and left.

Breakfast in a restaurant.


Grocery Store
It was so early, I started looking for something to do.  I visited a grocery store and got some things I needed.  Nothing really happened there.  Then I drove on and saw a shopping mall.  I thought, I will be a “mall walker!”

Mall Walker
A mall walker is someone who goes to the shopping mall to walk for the sake of exercise.  Some people do it early before the mall opens for business.  I have always wanted to be a mall walker while dressed pretty.  (I suppose I have sort of done it once in shorts and nude hose.)  I put on my men’s tennis shoes and went inside.  All of the shops were closed.  I started walking.  There may have been twenty other mall walkers.  Most of the other walkers were senior citizens.  I believe all of the other walkers were older than me.

People would greet me.  When I would pass someone, they would speak politely.  Once, I had a brief conversation with someone.  Later, I asked another man how long is one loop.  He said, “About a mile.”  I thanked him as I continued on, passing him.  Then, he started talking to me more describing specifically what I had to do to get a mile.  I thanked him again.  He could have stopped the conversation with a weird man in a skirt, but he did not.

I loved being a mall walker!


After I walked two miles, I took a few pictures.  This is the best one.


Dressed in Menswear
I went to my car and changed into menswear.  I had business to do that day that I intended to do in pants.  However, I considered doing my business in a skirt.  In retrospect, I think it was the right decision.  The people I traveled to work with might have communicated back to my home and exposed my fashion choices to people I choose not to share it with.

After my business was complete, I visited a college campus.  I did not bother to change into my skirt.  There was some kind of event going on on campus.  There were a lot of students and adults in dresses and suits.  I think 5-10% of the women were wearing either nude pantyhose.  Some others were wearing opaque black tights.  I wonder if a professor suggested that dress code to them.  I started wishing I was dressed pretty.

I visited a presentation room.  There were students at tables presenting their groups.  At one table, a group of LGBT engineers were presenting.  I spoke to them briefly.  At one point, I mentioned that I was a crossdresser.  They said that there was a guy at the university who wears skirts and dresses all the time.  At this point, I decided to go change back into my skirt.

Flying Pretty Outing – Part 2


This is part 2 of a series of posts about a trip I went on.

On the Airplane
On the plane, I sat in a window seat beside a man who owns a business.  The man worked almost the whole flight.  Late in the flight, we spoke some.  We had an off-and-on conversation for the rest of the flight.  We talked like normal.

At one point, a flight attendant visited to give out drinks, pretzels and cookies.  She was also wearing a dress and pretty support pantyhose.  (She was doing it better than I was.)  When she was talking to us, I noticed her take a few glances at my legs which happened to be crossed at the time.  If I may, let me take you back with me…  I used to only underdress (wear pantyhose under my pants).  When I would be around a woman who was also wearing pantyhose, I would be joyfully screaming in my heart, “Me too!!!”  That seems to have stopped happening.  Instead, this time, I merely took some pleasure in knowing that I was not the only one dressed like this.  I did not have any “Me too!!!” moments.  I kind of miss them.

During the flight, I made sure that my dress did not ride up my leg.  I did not want to show too much leg.  I have always been self conscious about this dress being a couple inches too short.  During a quiet time where the man and I were silent, I noticed that the evening sun was shining in the far side window onto my legs and causing my pantyhose to sparkle.  I felt pretty.  To be clear, I was not interested in being attractive to this man.  In fact, it never crossed my mind until I was proofreading this and I realized how this might sound to someone else.

I visited the men’s room after I arrived at the airport.  It was not significant.  Next, I walked through the airport looking for the rental car area.  I felt like many people did not notice me.  Others noticed, but did not pay much attention.  I am developing a fashion opinion: Perhaps, straighter lines, such as pencil skirts, are better for helping a man who is dressed pretty to blend in.

Rental Car Facility
I rode an escalator down to a rental car desk.  I stood at a corral until the man called for me to approach.  He took only a brief glance at me and never showed any other reaction.  I went to the garage to receive my rental car.  A perky, young woman came to help.  She took a quick glance down.  She continued talking to me and stole another glance.  It was as if she could not contain it.  She needed a couple more looks.  There were other people around, but I did not pay attention to them.  The woman brought me a car.  We spoke briefly more while I walked around it and checked it out.  Then she left me.  I found all of the controls to the car and adjusted my mirrors.  Then I departed.

I went to a restaurant for supper.  There were not a lot of customers.  It was about an hour after most people finish supper.  I walked up to the restaurant and saw in the windows that there were six tables populated and four of them included children.  I hesitated about going in.  I went in.  The hostess never looked at anything but my face.  I really think she did not notice.  She seated me in a booth beside a brave woman who was trying to eat out with three young boys.  I do not think anyone who was eating in the restaurant ever looked at me.

The hostess had seated me in a booth that was open toward the entrance.  Throughout my time there, when people came in, they normally walked toward my booth as they traveled to they main part of the restaurant.  Several groups did look at me.  That is the first time I have ever been paid any attention while in a sit-down restaurant.

My server glanced down under the table every time she approached.  She was a very happy, young, pretty woman.  I ate my food without incident.  I took my ticket and walked to the cash register to pay.  The hostess took my money.  My server and a couple others were near the kitchen standing around and talking.  One was facing me.  I finished my transaction and walked to the door.  I went out.  Once outside, I looked back to see if their demeanor had changed after I had left.  It had not.  No laughing, no fast conversations now that I was gone.  They just kept on talking about whatever topic was more interesting than a man in a dress.  Rock on!

I drove for a long time.  Eventually, I arrived at my hotel.  It was late.  I got out of my car and collected my luggage.  Another car stopped in front of the main entrance.  While people were getting out, I walked in front of their car and into the entrance.  The clerk at the counter may not have seen anything below the counter.  When she was finished with me, the older people from the car were at the desk with me.  One of them, a man, crossed paths with me almost every time I was not in my room during this trip.

I found my room and got settled in.  I left my room in order to go to the lobby for some water, goodies, and a picture.  That man who was beside me at the front desk was on my hall looking for ice.  I told him where it was.  When I arrived in the lobby, I found it was empty.  I was alone.  I set my camera to auto and tried to take a picture of myself there.  Every picture I took was blurry.  I retried several times.  Eventually, the young woman who checked me in arrived.  She offered to take my picture.  We ended up talking for 10-15 minutes.

Posing in the hotel lobby.
I always feel like I do not know how to pose for a picture when I am dressed pretty.
In my first few outing pictures, I looked like a country western line dancer waiting
to scoot my boots.  I have never recovered from that!


While the hotel employee and I were talking, a couple in their sixties came in the door with luggage.  I told the employee, “You have customers.  I should go.”  I went to the elevator.  The couple did not stop at the counter.  They got on the elevator with me.  I was near the buttons.  They told me what floor to press.  Then, we all chatted on our way up.  Just another day…

I went to my room and was done for the night.


Flying Pretty Outing – Part 1


This is part 1 of a series of posts about a trip I went on.


“Flying pretty” is a term that I believe Kimberly Huddle coined.  It is what a crossdresser calls it when they dress up and fly in a plane to somewhere.  I had the excellent opportunity to fly somewhere this week and I did it while dressed pretty!

My Wife
My wife is not very supportive about my crossdressing.  It makes her uncomfortable.  She does not want our children or friends to know about it.  She does not want me to go out in public and be found out.  However, she also does not like it when I wear pretty stuff around the house after the kids are in bed.  Her ideal solution would be for me to forget about crossdressing altogether.  That has not happened, yet.

She knows that when I go on a trip that I am probably going to dress as much as I can.  As the trip approached, I shaved my legs.  I went shoe shopping and accidentally left a shoe store bag in the closet where she could find it.  Maybe there were other cues.  In any case, my wife figured out that I would be traveling pretty.  She started to seem more concerned.  Eventually, she asked me, “Do you have big plans for this trip?”  I understood.  We have kids around us a lot.  Code words like that help control the information.  I responded, “I have little plans.  I do not have time on this trip for big plans.”

On the day of the trip, she seemed a little worried.  When she told me good-bye, she said, “Be wise.”  She kissed me good-bye.  We texted love messages throughout the day.

First Airport
I had considered wearing menswear to the gate at my first airport and then changing clothes just before the flight if no one I knew was there.  It was tempting — literally tempting.  I was wrestling with this unwise idea.  At some point, I thought about how it would hurt/upset my wife to know I did that.  Suddenly, it was easy for me to commit to changing at my layover.  Therefore, I wore menswear on the first leg on my trip.

First Layover
Soon after landing at the airport, I went to the men’s room and changed clothes.  This turned out to be more complicated than I expected.  I was using one carry-on item, a small suitcase.  It was on wheels.  I had to lay it down in a restroom stall and unzip it, etc.  Normally, I use a backpack for my carry-on.  I could not hang up this suitcase the way I normally hang up my backpack.

I managed to change into a black, knee-length dress,  I wore Hanes Smooth Illusions pantyhose in barely black.  I wore my black flats that I always seem to wear because I could not find new black flats.

I was not terribly stressed.  I walked out of the restroom stall and went to the sink.  The restroom was busy.  Not a lot of men even seemed to notice.  At the sink, I noticed a couple men give a glance as they came in.  Others looked long enough to take it in.  No one said or did anything different.  That is because a man in a dress is welcome in at least some men’s rooms.

I went to my gate and sat down.  The gate was fairly well populated.  After a little hunting, I found a place with three empty seats in a row.  I sat in the middle, between a sleeping younger woman, and a 50-something year old woman.  Across was a man, an empty chair, a woman, an empty chair, and a group of two dressy women and a man who were talking a lot.  I sat down, crossed my legs, and pulled my hemline down so that I did not show too much leg.  Everyone but the sleeper took a look at me.  The dressy people seemed more interested, but they did not lose their train of thought.  They kept on talking.

The woman to my right finished what she was doing after 5-10 minutes.  Then she looked at me and said something.  We started chatting.  We talked for roughly twenty minutes about traveling, our kids, where we were from, etc.  Eventually, it was time to board the airplane.  We stood up and got in line to board the plane.

I asked her if she would take my picture.  She agreed.  I told her that I was a blogger and people ask me to include pictures of my adventures.  We continued talking as we slowly progressed toward the plane.  When we got to the plane, the female flight attendant had us stop.  She waited for the line in the plane to advance so she could see where there was room for carry-on luggage.  I said to the woman who I had been talking to, “This might be the my last chance to speak to you.  Thank you for talking with me.  I do not go out dressed like this all of the time.  Sometimes I can feel like a freak.”

She responded with something kind and affirming like, “Everyone is different…”  I cannot remember what she specifically said.  I think a great response would have been, “You’re welcome, I’m glad it mattered.”  In any case, it was very nice to have someone to talk to.

Airport1AHere I am about to board the plane.  This is my first time flying pretty while wearing a dress.  The woman behind me is looking at me with a rather board expression on her face.  I cropped him out, but a man across from her is also looking.

Airport1BI included both of these pictures because the woman has lost interest in me.  The man in front of her is still looking.


Shaved Legs and a Shorter Skirt


My smooth legs needed an outing…  It is that time of year again.  I shaved off my summer coat of leg hair.  I am OK with having leg hair.  However, it feels nice to be smooth!  It looks prettier with a skirt as well!

I went on an afternoon outing today.  I wore nude pantyhose with a blue jean skirt that falls to just above the knee, a black top, and black flats.  I have been almost exclusively wearing these black flats for some time now.  I want another pair of flats so that I have something else to wear.  I was also considering getting a modest pair of wedge heels in black.

My denim skirt that falls about two inches above my knee.
Deep down, I know this is a “miniskirt”…  I am in denial.
I am not a miniskirt kind of guy.


Shoe Store
I went to a shoe store in my happy outfit looking for flats.  I tried on a few pairs of shoes.  They did not have anything that I liked in flats.  I found two pairs of wedges that I liked.  I would have bought one of them if they were in my size.  There was only one employee in the store.  She knows me from previous visits.  We chatted some while I was browsing and trying on shoes.  She was working on some inventory on the other side of the store and never came over to help me.

I told her that I did not find anything that worked for me.  She said that she had some wedge sandals on sale in the boxes she had at the cash register.  I took a look.  There was a cart with about ten pairs of size 13 women’s shoes.  I peeked in the boxes and found two pairs that I would try on.

The first pair were high-heeled, wedge sandals.  They were almost ridiculous (for me).  These shoes were 3-4 inches tall with a one inch platform under the balls of my feet.  They had a narrow heel area.  They were espadrilles.  I thought, “I would probably never wear these.  I would need to paint my toes to wear them!”  Then again, they were not that bad.  I felt good in them.  They fit.

I was not going to buy them because I am cheap and somewhat logical.  HOWEVER, I looked over at the box while thinking this and saw the price tag.  These were marked down to three dollars.  These shoes were almost free.  I bought them.  At the register, I learned that they were also 20% off.  I bought them for $2.40.

I am afraid to wear these shoes on any significant outing because I figure shoes this cheap will tear up on me.  I will probably take back-up shoes the first few times I wear these.  Intellectually, I do not want to acknowledge that they had a previous price of $40.  “Former prices” are sometimes a deceptive marketing ploy.

high_heel_wedge_sandlesWedge platform sandals
Are they excessive?


Sandwich Restaurant
Next was lunch.  Guess what shoes I wore…  I wore the espadrilles to lunch.  I am already over six feet (1.8m) tall.  These shoes grew me a good bit taller.

I went to a sandwich shop.  I stood alone at the ordering counter.  Two construction workers were eating in the restaurant’s dining area.  They looked over at me.  I stood at the counter, waiting.  I looked over at the construction workers.  They promptly stopped looking at me.  They never paid me any more attention that I could see.

Let me interrupt myself to say this: I have been in restaurants before where construction workers were eating.  Having “manly men” in the restaurant while I was dressed pretty has historically made me uncomfortable.  Not this time.

There was a booth directly behind where I was standing in line.  On it was a man, sleeping.  He was wearing sunglasses.  Another man, who was older than me walked across the restaurant toward the bathroom which was on the other side of me.  I looked over at the older man as he approached.  He never looked at me.  A man asleep in a restaurant was more interesting to this man than a man in a skirt.

I placed my order and the lady made my meal.  Then she asked me, “Is this for here or to go?”  I changed my mind.  I said, “For here.”

I filled my drink at the fountain.  It happened to be positioned directly in front of where the two construction workers were eating.  I was slightly self conscious, maybe a 2 out of 10.  The older man had returned to his seat in the corner.  I selected a table equidistant from both occupied tables.

I crossed my legs and ate my food.  It was harder crossing my legs in heels.  I forgot about that.  My bottom leg has to be at quite an angle to keep my upper knee from rubbing/banging the table.

The older man was in my line of sight.  He paid me no attention the whole meal.  The construction workers sat and talked and paid me no further attention.

I finished quickly and walked to the trash can.  Then, I returned to the fountain and refilled my cup.  I turned to the exit.  I placed my hand on the door and looked back at the sandwich area.  There were two employees now.  I said, “Thank you.”  They looked my way.  The woman who served me thanked me for coming.  Then, I turned and walked out the door.