I woke up the other day thinkin "I need some red shoes". Surely to goodness red shoes would do the trick. You see, I need a little perkin up and since sandal season is over, nothin screams "PERKY" louder than red shoes. Now, in days past (or perhaps I should say years) the style of red shoes would have been slightly different. Even though I have never been a sun-uva-bitch about high heels, there was a time when I threw caution to the wind; a risky move when one has flimsy ankles, pigeon toes and high arches.

Heels always seemed to get the best of me. Once while I was in a fashion show at Neiman Marcus (against my better judgement) Kim Dawson herself told me I walked like Tony Curtis in that Marilyn Monroe movie; Some Like It Hot. It was not a compliment. If you remember, Tony Curtis was dressed up like a woman and even though he did a mighty fine job, he wasn't real stable in those high heels. Sadly, he walked better in them than I did.

Another time while auditioning for a jewelry store commercial I was told to wear very high heels, a tight dress and tease my hair up big. So, I got some super sexy ankle strap heels and a beautiful fawn colored sheath dress with batwing sleeves. I looked OK, even with the big Texas hair thing going on. Before the audition the four of us girls were paired up with these tiny little men (what is the p.c. word?) and we were given our scripts. Well, I was horrified! In the scene the tiny little man proposes to the real tall lady and in all her squealing excitement, she picks him up and kisses him. Other than having an issue with kissing strangers, it sounded easy enough, right? Well, let me tell you, those little tiny men are heavier than one might expect and I look stronger than I actually am, which was a recipe for disaster. Our names were called and we went into a room with long tables making a U with the jewelry store executives sitting all around. We said our lines and as I bent over to pick the little fella up, the ankle straps of my shoes seemed to shift and we both fell right to the ground! My shoes twisted around my ankles and my dress around my waist! I wanted to die. The men were laughing and the poor little fella was hooked somehow under my fashionable batwing sleeves that were acting sorta like a straight jacket restricting any movement whatsoever. We were stuck in that precarious position until finally a couple of the laughing executives helped us get untangled, shoes undone and bodies upright. We didn't get the part.

Come to think of it I have had several run-ins with high heels. Many years ago my dear friend Jeanie and I went to Steak and Ale. We were celebrating something and decided to get all tarted up and have a nice dinner. This was a big deal in college because we were struggling and usually saved our VA college money (on account of our dads being in the military) to buy necessities like Dom Perignon champagne. Anyway, we took our fancy selves to Steak & Ale and ordered our usual  sissified drinks and sat in the lounge until our table was ready. When they called us, we walked over to the red velvet swaggy ropes to wait for the hostess and my heel went cockeyed in the tile grout. On the way down, I unfortunately grabbed the red velvet rope and all the big chrome columns holding them came down too, in a domino effect. It made a deafening noise as they hit the tile floor. Of course, I had on my favorite wrap around dress that unwrapped itself enough to leave me all splayed out on the floor like a thawed Thanksgiving turkey. Mortified, I gathered what was left of my dignity off the floor and we walked to our table as if nothing ever happened.

Suffice to say I have learned my lesson and my latest red shoes are nice quality flats. If I fall over the shoes will not be to blame.