Comfort vs Glamour

Another story of my life.

I forgot my pair of leather shoes (which I wear to school) back home in Cavite.

Since my school requires a standard uniform, I couldn't just wear my high-tops to class. I needed a new pair.

But of course, all the stores were closed by the time I realized I forgot my shoes, so I needed to borrow a pair from my coolest friend Monica to wear first thing on Monday. She, being the good friend that she is, lent me her weird heels.

Okay, so the classes end, and the time has come for my dad to buy me a new pair of shoes! Yay!
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Caution to Fathers:

Never accompany your daughter shoe shopping. It could lead to a major case of boredom.

Caution to Stuck-up I'm-too-educated-to-care pompous kids:

You might want to let down your hair, or else you'll probably get sick and throw up right there in your seat.

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So after about thirty minutes of browsing, I narrowed down my selection to two pairs.

1. A cute and comfy pair with inch-high heels, pink piping and perfect-fitting soft leather.
2. A hot and far-from-comfy pair with 4-inch-high heels, and hard, thick black leather.

Ah, one of the funnest choices a girl has to make.

I asked my dad what he thought. He said liked neither and preferred a pair he was pointing at out in the corner:

A hideous pair of Bandolino Caterpilllar-like shoes that boys wear in their Elementary years.

Hmm, maybe I shouldn't ask dad to pick my shoes for me.

Anyway, a voice at the back of my head told me that choice # 2 was better and hotter.

So I followed that voice.

And now I'm wearing what I think is an ancient torturing device. I suppose this is the price you pay to look good.

But hey, I must admit, these shoes are pure hotness.