6.29.2011

shoe porn and other tidbits

I realized when I was straightening my closet yesterday that all my really expensive, pretty shoes were stuck in their bags (Comme il Fauts have their own bi-sectioned satin bags, did I mention?) and thrown in the bottom of my closet, while my less important pairs were displayed on the shelf.


Not so anymore. Next to each other like that, it's harder to believe I've spent $600 on tango shoes in the last year (most of it was from bonuses of one kind or another, but still).

So, so worth it.

Also, it’s not your imagination or a trick of the camera that makes that closet look pink. It is pink. The whole house was that awful color when we moved in, and we had to fight to get all the rooms painted . . . they of course didn’t bother with the closets.

. . .


Remember that post I made about Kate’s wedding, and how I suspected the dress design was stifled by the queen’s rules? Here’s an article by Rita Wilson (that’s Tom Hanks’ wife) about the dressing requirements for meeting the queen of England. Fucking insane.

. . .

Ernest Hemingway has been floating around a lot lately. First Colin brought home For Whom the Bell Tolls on the same day that I checked out The Paris Wife from the library (a great read, by the way), and now I stumble across a great series of photos.



This is my favorite; he's the one one the right. Here are the rest.

1 comment:

  1. In the 1930s, my mom (Colin's grandma, of course) worked in a Petoskey hotel where Ernest Hemingway sometimes stayed. (She grew up in East Jordan, a few miles away.) She never ran into him, but supposedly her older brothers did, when they worked there summers earlier.

    These are the kind of details I wish I had nailed down many years ago...

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